The reef below would infallibly wreck any ship that tried to approach
within the point-blank range of some 270 yards, and its extreme range
of ten times that distance was no protection to the haven, which lay
round a sharp corner of the cliff. But the engineer's blunder was
never a check upon the alacrity of the Die-hards, who cleaned,
loaded, rammed home, primed, sighted, and blazed away with the
precision of clockwork and the ardour of Britons, as though aware
that the true strength of a nation lay not so much in the
construction of her fortresses as in the spirit of her sons.

Captain Pond halted, re-formed his men upon the platform, and,
drawing a key from his pocket, ordered Lieutenant Clogg to the
store-hut, with Uncle Issy in attendance, to serve our the
ammunition, rammers, sponges, water-buckets, etc.

"But the door's unlocked, sir," announced the lieutenant, with
something like dismay.

"Unlocked!" echoed the Doctor.

The Captain blushed.

"I could have sworn, Doctor, I turned the key in the lock before
leaving last Thursday. I think my head must be going. I've been
sleeping badly of late--it's this worry about Fugler. However, I
don't suppose anybody--"

A yell interrupted him. It came from Uncle Issy, who had entered the
store-hut, and now emerged from it as if projected from a gun.