"Get it then," said Gil indifferently; and a couple of men were despatched to the ship, returning after some two or three hours with the keg, which they carried in turn. Mother Goodhugh had not moved, but lay in a kind of stupor with half-closed eyes, Gil sitting near and dreaming over the past. A slight rustle near him made him gaze upwards once to see a rabbit scurry away from a hole beneath the great stone, and this he marked as suitable for laying the charge to lift away the mass. At last, the men came toiling up the steep ascent, and Wat Kilby busied himself in preparing a mine that should do what was required without further damage to the store. It was soon done--a train laid, and a fuse prepared. Then Mother Goodhugh was carefully lifted and laid behind a corner of the rock, where harm could not befall her, and Wat Kilby stood ready to fire the fuse after seeing all the men were safe. "Now, captain," he said, "as soon as you like." "Stop a moment," said Gil, thoughtfully, though all the time he was experiencing a fierce longing to enter the cave once more. "What for, captain?" said Wat gruffly, as he puffed at his pipe. "The sound may be heard, and bring Sir Mark's fellows down." "Nay," cried Wat, "the noise will run down the valley and out to sea, my lad. They'll not hear it inland, I lay my life. Bah! and if they did, what then? No one could find his way here without a guide." "Go on, then," said Gil quietly; and, drawing back to the shelter of a little recess, he stood watching the acts of Wat Kilby, a famous old gunner in his way, as, after puffing at his pipe to make it glow, he just touched the end of the fuse, laid the other end by the train, and limped coolly to the captain's side. From the rocky recess they could see the fuse sparkle and burn rapidly away, and listen to the buzz of the voices of the crew as they talked of the explosion; then a zigzag line of fire seemed to run along amongst the heather and ferns; there was a blinding flash, a thick white smoke, and, lastly, a heavy dull roar that rolled down the ravine, and the fall of masses of the splintered rock. The smoke rose slowly over the face of the cliff, showing the grey and blackened traces where the fire had blasted bush and tree; while, where the large block of sandstone had lain was now a dark opening, the rock having been lifted right away, reft in twain, and thrown some yards down the slope. "There, skipper," growled Wat, as he limped along, and the men came up; "there be not a cask split inside I'll wager, and a few showers of rain will hide all the marks." Gil nodded. "Four of you bring the old woman along," he said. "We'll make her a bed inside. Good God!" He was startled at what he saw, for the explosion seemed to have roused Mother Goodhugh, who came crawling painfully towards them to raise herself upon her knees and point, and struggle to speak.