‘We will shift the helm,’ continued old Keeling, in the skewered, buttoned-up sort of voice and air he was wont to use when addressing his mates in the presence of the passengers, ‘so as to bring the wreck within reach of our carronades.’ ‘Very good, sir.’ ‘I expect,’ continued old marline-spike, ‘that she is floating on the air in her hold rather than on her cargo, even though it be cork; and if we can knock a hole in her, she will sink.’ Mr. Prance stepped aft to the wheel, and the vessel’s course was changed. Instructions went forward; and the boatswain, who combined with his duties the functions of chief-gunner aboard the _Countess Ida_, superintended the loading of a couple of pieces. ‘Please tell me when they are going to fire, Mr. Riley, that I may stop my ears,’ cried Miss Hudson, who looked a very lovely little woman that morning in a wide straw hat and a body of some muslin-like material, through which the snow of her throat and neck showed, making you think of a white rose in a crystal vase. Mr. Greenhew, with a glance full of scissors and thumbscrews, as sailors say, at Mr. Riley, told Miss Hudson that if she objected to the noise, he would insist that the gun should not be fired, and would make it a personal matter between himself and the captain. ‘Not for worlds, thank you very much all the same,’ said Miss Hudson, sending a languishing look at him through her eyelashes; which, being witnessed by Mr. Riley, would, I did not doubt, occasion a large expenditure of sarcasm between the young men later on. The motion of the ship was very slow, and we had floated almost imperceptibly down upon the wreck. The skipper then suggested that the ladies should go aft, and off they went in a flutter and huddle of many-coloured gowns, Mrs. Colonel Bannister leading the way, and Mrs. Hudson limping in the wake with her fingers in her ears. A chap with a purple face and immense whiskers was sighting the piece. ‘Let fly now, whenever you are ready,’ shouted Mr. Prance. There was a roaring explosion; Mr. Johnson recoiled on to the feet of Mr. Emmett, who shouted with pain, and went hopping to the skylight with a foot in his hand. There were several screeches from the ladies, and methought the whiskers of the colonel, who stood beside me thirstily looking on, forked out with an added tension of every separate fibre, to the thunder of the gun and the smell of the powder. The ball flew wide. ‘Another shot!’ called out Mr. Prance. Bang! went the piece. I had my eye on the wreck at that moment, and saw half the stern-post, from which the rudder was gone, and a few feet of the keel to which it was affixed, vanish like a shattered bottle. ‘That’s done it!’ cried old Keeling with excitement as he stood ogling the wreck through his binocular. ‘If a hole that’ll let the air out is to sink her, she’s as good as foundered.’ He had scarcely said this when there was a sudden roar of voices along the whole length of our ship.