“Not being deaf, I do,” said the Captain, a little tartly—any reflection on his hearing always nettled him; “but what on earth they are for I can't conceive. You had better get up and dress yourself.”
“I'm nearly dressed, sir.”
“BOOM! BOOM!”—two of the guns had gone off together.
The door of Miss Abigail's bedroom opened hastily, and that pink of maidenly propriety stepped out into the hail in her night-gown—the only indecorous thing I ever knew her to do. She held a lighted candle in her hand and looked like a very aged Lady Macbeth.
“O Dan'el, this is dreadful! What do you suppose it means?”
“I really can't suppose,” said the Captain, rubbing his ear; “but I guess it's over now.”
“BOOM!” said Bailey's Battery.
Rivermouth was wide awake now, and half the male population were in the streets, running different ways, for the firing seemed to proceed from opposite points of the town. Everybody waylaid everybody else with questions; but as no one knew what was the occasion of the tumult, people who were not usually nervous began to be oppressed by the mystery.
Some thought the town was being bombarded; some thought the world was coming to an end, as the pious and ingenious Mr. Miller had predicted it would; but those who couldn't form any theory whatever were the most perplexed.
In the meanwhile Bailey's Battery bellowed away at regular intervals. The greatest confusion reigned everywhere by this time. People with lanterns rushed hither and thither. The town watch had turned out to a man, and marched off, in admirable order, in the wrong direction. Discovering their mistake, they retraced their steps, and got down to the wharf just as the last cannon belched forth its lightning.