The same day Lendrim was about to enter an embrasure to remove a sand-bag which was burning on the sole, when the petty officer in charge of the gun mounted there requested him not to do so until he had fired, as the piece was already loaded. While waiting, a very young naval officer approached, and asked Lendrim why he delayed the service. He soon explained, but the midshipman as quick as thought leaped into the opening and threw the bag on the merlon. Piqued at this interference, Lendrim told the officer he did not thank any one for doing a duty for which he was responsible; and added, “Since you have done so much you had better finish the job.” With as much good sense as good nature, the officer, seeing the chafed spirit of the sapper, did not attempt to supplant him, and so Lendrim sprang into the embrasure. With some water brought to him by an assistant line soldier he quenched the smoking sand-bag and patched up the breach in the stricken check. Witnessing the corporal’s coolness and celerity the officer observed, evidently to dissipate the unpleasant feeling which his daring had induced, “I would not have touched the bag had I known you were one of the old sappers.” Lendrim was more than satisfied with this complimentary apology. Sixteen extra sappers were sent to the left in the afternoon for exposed duty, and in two or three hours fixed mantlets across the gaping mouths of No. 7 battery. Under fire all the time the operation was necessarily hurried, and did not admit of those nice attentions which unopposed exertions would have permitted. The mantlets were simply suspended across the openings on a piece of wood jambed into the parapets of the embrasures. Four guns of the battery did good service against the Boulevard works. In the course of the evening two of the mantlets were blown away, but the battery stood up firmly.