It would have been a serious matter for both if they had stood out, for Gil formed almost the only channel through which Jeremiah Cobbe's productions were sold, and upon him depended the supply of two of the principal ingredients with which one of the founder's branches of industry was carried on. So gunpowder was made and ground. Gil--though never asked to the house, nor making any attempt to see Mace, and at their casual encounters meeting her quite as a friend--spent much of his time at the founder's works, superintending a casting, watching the purification of some batch of nitre that he had brought home, and, above all, helping at the trial of a newly-finished howitzer or culverin. The founder was pleased, for he told himself that the young people were growing sensible, and he became more friendly to Gil, who at last, after sundry night journeys had been noted by the people about, found himself ready for another voyage. "When do you sail, then?" said the founder to him one morning. "I have thought of going to-morrow," was the reply; "but the tide hardly suits." "Then put it off till the next day, my lad, and we'll have out the new piece to-morrow, and try her across the Pool." "With all my heart," said Gil, and the next morning he was busy and light-hearted at the foundry, with old Wat Kilby and half-a-dozen more, helping and superintending the mounting and dragging out of the great newly-finished piece of artillery, on which the founder for some time had been engaged. "She'll startle some of them," he said, as he patted the great piece on the breech, just as Mace came up slowly, and saluted Gil. "You shall have the first shot with her, Tit," he said, as the idea occurred to him. "Will it be safe to let her?" said Gil, rather anxiously, as he saw Mace shudder and shrink back. "Safe? Just as if one of my pieces could burst!" cried the founder, disdainfully. "The girt barrel be ready, Mas' Cobbe," said Tom Croftly, as he came up to announce that he had set up a great tub on a platform of planks on the other side of the Pool. "We'll soon batter that down," cried the founder, as with a loud cheer the huge piece of artillery was dragged up to the end of the lake, facing the founder's house, the whole of the men turning out to see the first discharge. "You'll help me to load and train her?" said the founder, who was as excited over the trial as a boy. "Ay, I'll help," cried Gil, rolling up the sleeves of his doublet, and taking the lead at charging the monster; Mace smiling as she looked on, and saw the strength he brought to bear, ramming the powder, lifting the great shot as if it were a child's ball, and then driving it home. "Don't aim at the target till we get the charged shell," said the founder. "This is only a christening shot." "Then we'll call the piece `Mace the First,'" said Gil, laughing. "That's her name, then," said the founder; "and she shall be the first of many Maces. Why are you aiming so low?"