s, her cottages,
and churches. Lord Keith had the sense to laugh at all that stuff, but
he had not the grand mechanical powers which have now enabled the human
race, not to go, but to send one another to the stars. A clumsy affair
called a catamaran, the acephalous ancestor of the torpedo, was expected
to relieve the sea of some thousands of people who had no business
there. This catamaran was a water-proof box about twenty feet long, and
four feet wide, narrowed at the ends, like a coffin for a giant. It
was filled with gunpowder, and ballasted so that its lid, or deck, was
almost awash; and near its stern was a box containing clock movements
that would go for about ten minutes, upon the withdrawal of a peg
outside, and then would draw a trigger and explode the charge. This
wondrous creature had neither oar nor sail, but demanded to be towed to
the tideward of the enemy, then have the death-watch set going, and be
cast adrift within hail of the enemy's line. Then as soon as it came
across their mooring cables, its duty was to slide for a little way
along them in a friendly manner, lay hold of them kindly with its long
tail, which consisted of a series of grappling-hooks buoyed with cork,
and then bringing up smartly alongside of the gun-boats, blow itself up,
and carry them up with it. How many there were of these catamarans is
not quite certain, but perhaps about a score, the intention being to
have ten times as many, on the next occasion, if these did well. And no
doubt they would have done well, if permitted; but they failed of their
purpose, like the great Guy Fawkes, because they were prevented.

For the French, by means of treacherous agents--of whom perhaps Caryl
Carne was one, though his name does not appear in the despatches--knew
all about this neat little scheme beforehand, and set their wits at work
to defeat it. Moreover, they knew that there were four fire-ships,
one of which was the Peggy of Springhaven, intended to add to the
consternation and destruction wrought by the catamarans. But they did
not know that, by some irony of fate, the least destructive and most
gentle of mankind was ordered to take a leading part in shattering man,
and horse, and even good dogs, into vapours.

Many quiet horses, and sweet-natured dogs, whose want of breeding had
improved their manners, lived in this part of the great flotilla, and
were satisfied to have their home where it pleased the Lord to feed
them. The horses wer