when he left off and asked for another, driving this
in at a tremendous rate and again asking for another and another, until
he had driven in a whole series of them which extended from the level of
the dinghy's gunwale right up the gunboat's side.

Then it seemed to the sleeper that the dinghy was passed along to the
war-vessel's stern, where Chips made her fast to the rudder-chains, and
then held out his hand for the powder-bag, which was so big that it
filled up all the bottom of the little boat and swelled right over the
side. It was very heavy, but Fitz felt that it must be done, though it
was not proper work for a young officer in Her Majesty's Navy.

But Chips was sitting astride the rudder, holding out his hands, and the
bag was obliged to be passed up. Directly afterwards it was made fast,
and Chips came back holding a black string moistened with gunpowder, and
holding out the end to him to light with a match. This he did, after
striking many which would not go off because his hands were wet; and
then he sat back watching the powder sparkle as it gradually burned
along the string towards the neck of the bag full of black powder, which
somehow seemed to be the soot from one of the chimneys at home, while
Chips the carpenter was only the sweep.

Fitz remembered his sensations of horror as he sat expecting to see the
explosion which would blow him into the water; and his dread was
agonising; but just then the dinghy began to glide along till it was
underneath the augers extending upwards like a ladder, and up these the
carpenter climbed, beckoning him to follow, to the gunboat's deck, where
all the Spanish sailors were lying fast asleep.

Here he seemed to know that he must step cautiously for fear of treading
on and waking the crew; but Chips did not seem to mind at all, going
straight in one stride right to where the big breech-loader lay
amidships on its carriage, waiting to be lifted out and dropped
overboard.

And here the confused muddle of dreams became condensed into a good
solid nightmare that would not go, for Fitz felt himself obliged to step
to the heaviest part of the huge gun and lift, while Chips took the
light end and grinned at him in his efforts to raise it, while as he
lifted, and they got the gun poised between them, each with his clasped
hands underneath, it kept going down again as if to crush his toes. But
he felt no pain, and kept on lifting again and again, till somehow it
seemed