em lay the
broad blue Channel, seamed and flecked with flashing foam, for a sharp
sea was running and the few ships in sight were laboring heavily.
Nigel's eyes traversed the wide-spread view, rejoicing in the change
from the gray wall of his cramped chamber. Finally they settled upon a
strange object at his very feet.

It was a long trumpet-shaped engine of leather and iron bolted into a
rude wooden stand and fitted with wheels. Beside it lay a heap of metal
slugs and lumps of stone. The end of the machine was raised and pointed
over the battlement. Behind it stood an iron box which Nigel opened. It
was filled with a black coarse powder, like gritty charcoal.

"By Saint Paul!" said he, passing his hands over the engine, "I have
heard men talk of these things, but never before have I seen one. It is
none other than one of those wondrous new-made bombards."

"In sooth, it is even as you say," Aylward answered, looking at it
with contempt and dislike in his face. "I have seen them here upon
the ramparts, and have also exchanged a buffet or two with him who had
charge of them. He was jack-fool enough to think that with this leather
pipe he could outshoot the best archer in Christendom. I lent him a cuff
on the ear that laid him across his foolish engine."

"It is a fearsome thing," said Nigel, who had stooped to examine it.
"We live in strange times when such things can be made. It is loosed by
fire, is it not, which springs from the black dust?"

"By my hilt! fair sir, I know not. And yet I call to mind that ere we
fell out this foolish bombardman did say something of the matter. The
fire-dust is within and so also is the ball. Then you take more dust
from this iron box and place it in the hole at the farther end--so. It
is now ready. I have never seen one fired, but I wot that this one could
be fired now."

"It makes a strange sound, archer, does it not?" said Nigel wistfully.

"So I have heard, fair sir--even as the bow twangs, so it also has a
sound when you loose it."

"There is no one to hear, since we are alone upon the rampart, nor can
it do scathe, since it points to sea. I pray you to loose it and I will
listen to the sound." He bent over the bombard with an attentive ear,
while Aylward, stooping his earnest brown face over the touch-hole,
scraped away diligently with a flint and steel. A moment later both he
and Nigel were seated some distance off upon the ground while amid the
roar of the discharge and