"So I hear," said John.
"I don't think anybody in the fort, sir," Ewins went on, "would do a dirty trick on me like that. You see, sir," he said, in a voice of intense seriousness, "it put us out of Action."
John was silent for a moment. For the first time the full gravity of what had happened struck his consciousness.
"I'll swear it wasn't an accident," continued Ewins, emphatically. "Old 'Crumbs' said it was; but he don't know anything about guns."
"Who's 'Crumbs'?"
"I beg pardon, sir; I meant Private Sims, the baker."
"He said it was an accident?" pursued John.
"Yes, sir. I lost my temper that morning, and when I come here and found how things were, I gave one of the squad a bit of a push."
"Was 'Crumbs' one of the squad?"
"Oh, no, sir; he come in to bring me a lump of cake." Ewins looked sheepish a moment. "You see, sir, I am partial to cake, and he generally hands me a bit at odd times. He was in the gun chamber when I got here, sir, looking for me, with a bit of cake in his hand."