us vaults I have spoken of. Often he might be seen groping his
way into them, followed by his subalterns, the old quarter-gunners, as
if intent upon laying a train of powder to blow up the ship. I
remembered Guy Fawkes and the Parliament-house, and made earnest
inquiry whether this gunner was a Roman Catholic. I felt relieved when
informed that he was not.

A little circumstance which one of his _mates_ once told me heightened
the gloomy interest with which I regarded his chief. He told me that,
at periodical intervals, his master the Gunner, accompanied by his
phalanx, entered into the great Magazine under the Gun-room, of which
he had sole custody and kept the key, nearly as big as the key of the
Bastile, and provided with lanterns, something like Sir Humphrey Davy's
Safety-lamp for coal mines, proceeded to turn, end for end, all the
kegs of powder and packages of cartridges stored in this innermost
explosive vault, lined throughout with sheets of copper. In the
vestibule of the Magazine, against the panelling, were several pegs for
slippers, and, before penetrating further than that vestibule, every
man of the gunner's gang silently removed his shoes, for fear that the
nails in their heels might possibly create a spark, by striking against
the coppered floor within. Then, with slippered feet and with hushed
whispers, they stole into the heart of the place.

This turning of the powder was to preserve its inflammability. And
surely it was a business full of direful interest, to be buried so deep
below the sun, handling whole barrels of powder, any one of which,
touched by the smallest spark, was powerful enough to blow up a whole
street of warehouses.

The gunner went by the name of _Old Combustibles_, though I thought
this an undignified name for so momentous a personage, who had all our
lives in his hand.

While we lay in Callao, we received from shore several barrels of
powder. So soon as the _launch_ came alongside with them, orders were
given to extinguish all lights and all fires in the ship; and the
master-at-arms and his corporals inspected every deck to see that this
order was obeyed; a very prudent precaution, no doubt, but not observed
at all in the Turkish navy. The Turkish sailors will sit on their
gun-carriages, tranquilly smoking, while kegs of powder are being
rolled under their ignited pipe-bowls. This shows the great comfort
there is in the doctrine of these Fatalists, and how such a doctrine,
in