else," said Dolly, gazing at the lines of black
guns stretching along both sides of the deck, so near to each other, so
black, so grim. "How many men does it take to manage each gun? You said
_three or four_ might be killed."

"According to the size of the gun. Twelve men for these guns; larger
would take fifteen."

Again Dolly meditated; in imagination peopled the solitary place with
the active crowd of men which would be there if each gun had twelve
gunners, filled the silence with the roar of combined discharges,
thought of the dead and wounded; at last turned her eyes to the blue
ones that were watching her.

"I wonder if God likes it?" she said.

"Likes what?" said the midshipman in wonder.

"Such work. I don't see how He _can_."

"How can you help such work? People cannot get along without fighting."

He did not speak carelessly or mockingly or banteringly; rather with a
gentle, somewhat deliberate utterance. Yet Dolly was persuaded there
was no unmanly softness in him; she never doubted but that he would be
ready to do his part in that dreadful work, if it must be done.
Moreover, he was paying to this odd little girl a delicate sort of
respect and treating her with great consideration. Her confidence, as I
said, had been entirely given to him before; and now some gratitude
began to mingle with it, along with great freedom to speak her mind.

"I don't think God can like it," she repeated.

"What would you do, then?" he also repeated, smiling. "Let wicked
people have their own way?"

"No."

"If they are not to have their own way, you must stop them."

"I think this is a dreadful way of stopping them."

"It's a bad job for the side that goes under," the young officer
admitted.

"I don't believe God likes it," Dolly concluded for the third time,
with great conviction.

"Is that your rule for everything?"

"Yes. Isn't it your rule?"

"I have to obey orders," he answered, watching her.

"Don't you obey _His_ orders?" said Dolly wistfully.

"I do not know what they are."

"Oh, but they are in the Bible. You can find them in the Bible."

"Does it say anything about fighting?"

Dolly tried to think, and got confused. Certainly it did say a good
deal about fighting, but in various ways, it seemed to her. She did not
know how to answer. She changed the subject.

"How do you get the shot, the balls, I mean, into these guns? I don't
see how you get at them. The mouths are out of the windows. Por