of the lightning, the deafness of the grave. It weighs ten thousand
pounds, and it rebounds like a child's ball. It spins and then abruptly
darts off at right angles.

And what is to be done? How put an end to it? A tempest ceases, a cyclone
passes over, a wind dies down, a broken mast can be replaced, a leak can
be stopped, a fire extinguished, but what will become of this enormous
brute of bronze. How can it be captured? You can reason with a bulldog,
astonish a bull, fascinate a boa, frighten a tiger, tame a lion; but you
have no resource against this monster, a loose cannon. You can not kill
it, it is dead; and at the same time it lives. It lives with a sinister
life which comes to it from the infinite. The deck beneath it gives it
full swing. It is moved by the ship, which is moved by the sea, which is
moved by the wind. This destroyer is a toy. The ship, the waves, the
winds, all play with it, hence its frightful animation. What is to be done
with this apparatus? How fetter this stupendous engine of destruction? How
anticipate its comings and goings, its returns, its stops, its shocks? Any
one of its blows on the side of the ship may stave it in. How foretell its
frightful meanderings? It is dealing with a projectile, which alters its
mind, which seems to have ideas, and changes its direction every instant.
How check the course of what must be avoided? The horrible cannon
struggles, advances, backs, strikes right, strikes left, retreats, passes
by, disconcerts expectation, grinds up obstacles, crushes men like flies.
All the terror of the situation is in the fluctuations of the flooring.
How fight an inclined plane subject to caprices? The ship has, so to
speak, in its belly, an imprisoned thunderstorm, striving to escape;
something like a thunderbolt rumbling above an earthquake.

In an instant the whole crew was on foot. It was the fault of the gun
captain, who had neglected to fasten the screw-nut of the mooring-chain,
and had insecurely clogged the four wheels of the gun carriage; this gave
play to the sole and the framework, separated the two platforms, and the
breeching. The tackle had given way, so that the cannon was no longer firm
on its carriage. The stationary breeching, which prevents recoil, was not
in use at this time. A heavy sea struck the port, the carronade,
insecurely fastened, had recoiled and broken its chain, and began its
terrible course over the deck.

To form an idea of this strange slidi