"What have you in your gun, Mr. Nelson?"

"A five-second shell, sir," answered Frank, promptly.

"Very well. Run out your gun and give them a shot."

The men sprang to their stations in an instant; the ports flew open with a
crash, and the heavy gun was ran out as easily as though it had been a
twelve-pounder. The first captain seized the lock string; there was a
deafening report, and an eleven-inch shell went booming into the fort. The
force of the discharge ran the gun back into the turret again, and the
ports closed as if by magic. They did not close entirely, however, for
there was a space of about four inches left between them, to allow for the
action of the rammer in loading. The gun was sponged, the cartridge driven
home, and the gunner's mate stood at the muzzle of the gun, removing the
cap from a shell, when a percussion shell from the fort struck in the
space between the shutters and exploded. The discharge set fire to the
shell which the gunner's mate was holding in his hand, and the unfortunate
man was blown almost to atoms.

In naval actions there is nothing which will carry such terror and dismay
among a ship's company as the bursting of one of their own shells; and the
scene which followed the explosion in the turret of the Ticonderoga
beggars all description. Old seamen, who had been in many a hard-fought
battle, and had stood at their guns under the most deadly fire the enemy
could pour upon them, without flinching, now deserted their stations, and
ran about through the blinding and suffocating smoke that filled the
turret, with blanched cheeks, trampling each other under their feet, and
utterly disregarding the commands of their officers, who ran among them