When the lights had been put out, Lawrence saw for the first time that during dinner the solid cubes of steel, the size of the windows, had noiselessly rolled back, leaving a square aperture or passage-way through the six-foot thickness of the armour-plate, and forming a sort of _loggia_ into which they stepped. It was a beautiful night, and through the clear, rarefied atmosphere the stars seemed to Lawrence brighter than he had ever seen them before, while down below them he could just see the lights of Berlin. The explosions of the motors of the Taubes could be plainly heard, but as yet nothing could be seen of them. “What do you suppose those mosquitoes expect to do against us with their pop-guns and tomato cans?” asked Lawrence. “I do not know.” Edestone shook his head. “Perhaps they are just coming up to look us over. They will keep out of sight, and as they may not know that we are protected on top, will perhaps try to drop one of their tomato cans on us. That is, if they can get close enough. I hardly think that they will risk a miss, and drop bombs on their own capital, so long as the Only One Who Seems To Count In Germany is in the midst of his beloved people.” The Taubes could be heard on all sides, as if they were climbing in great circles around the Little Peace Maker. There seemed to be at least a dozen of them, although owing to the confusion of sounds as they crossed and re-crossed, it was impossible to count them. At last, though, when judging by the noise they were about on the same level as the ship, Edestone turned to an officer who was standing by him. “Tell Commander Anderson to load all of the big guns with a full charge of black powder only, and fire them all off at the same time. “And, Lawrence,” he advised his friend, “when you hear a bell ringing, stand on your toes, open your mouth, stick your fingers in your ears, and if you’ve never been in Hell before, prepare yourself for a shock.” Hardly had he gotten the words out of his mouth, when bells began ringing all over the ship. In just exactly one minute, Lawrence thought he had been blown into bits, as he was lifted and thrown from side to side against the steel walls of the passage. The noise was so great that his ears seemed unable to record it, and it was made known to him by the air pressure which seemed to be crushing him to death. The rush of air down his throat was choking him, while his very insides seemed to be turning over and over in their effort to escape. A dizziness and nausea followed, and he had to lean against his friend, trying to catch his breath in the thick, black smoke with which they were enveloped. “This is Hell all right,” he managed to gasp. “That is the worst you will ever get,” said Edestone. “It was noise that I was after, and black powder makes it. Your experience would not have been half so bad had the guns been loaded or had I used smokeless.”