"I'm afraid Mrs Fidler does not believe in the thunder and lightning
theory."
"No?" said the Vicar, turning his head.
"No," said Uncle Richard, smiling, but wincing at the same time; "she
has had experience of me before in my dabblings in other things. What
do you say was the cause of the trouble, Tom?"
"Well, I should say, uncle, that the silver was too strong for the
glass, and made it split all to pieces."
"Not a bad theory," said Uncle Richard. "What do you say, Maxted?"
"Well," said the Vicar, "do you know, I'm puzzled. Of course it was not
an electric shock, and my knowledge of chemistry is so very shallow; but
really and truly, I feel convinced, that you must have got hold of wrong
chemicals, and formed some new and dangerous explosive compound."
"Quite right, only it was not new," said Uncle Richard. "As soon as I
could collect my shattered thinking powers, I began to consider about
what I had done, and I think I see correctly now. The fact is, I forgot
one very important part of the instructions I have for silvering
mirrors."
"Indeed!" said the Vicar, in an inquiring tone, while Tom pricked up his
singing ears.
"Yes," said Uncle Richard. "You remember how the silvery surface was
covered with a greyish powder?"
"Yes, thickly," said Tom.
"That had no business there, and it would not have been if I had been
more careful to remember everything. When I took the speculum glass out
of the silvering bath, I ought to have deluged it with pure water till
all that greyish powder was washed away, then it would have been fairly
bright."
"Yes, uncle; but what has that to do with the explosion?"
"Everything, my boy. If there had been no powder there we should have
had no explosion."
"But it wasn't gunpowder, uncle," cried Tom, "it couldn't be. I know
what gunpowder's made of--nitre, brimstone, and charcoal; and besides,
we had no light."
"No, Tom, but it was a mixture far stronger than gunpowder, and one
which will explode with a very slight friction."
"I know," cried the Vicar eagerly, "fulminate of silver."
"Quite right," said Uncle Richard; "and I feel quite ashamed of my
ignorance. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing; and I ought to have
known that in this process I was preparing so dangerous a compound."
"I know," cried Tom now; "fulminate of silver is what they put in
percussion caps, isn't it, uncle?"
"No; that is a very similar compound, but it is fulminate of mercury.--
Well, Maxted, what am I to say to you for trying to kill you?"
"I think you had better say nothing," said the Vicar quietly. "It seems
to me that the less we talk about it the better, and content ourselves
with being thankful for our escape."
"It's lucky, uncle, that it missed the big speculum, and a lot more
stuff being used."
"Fortunate indeed, Tom. We must be more careful next time."
"But surely you will not try so dangerous an experiment again?" said the
Vicar anxiously.
"Certainly I shall," said Uncle Richard. "The experiment is not in the
least dangerous if properly carried out. The accident was from my
ignorance. I know better now."
"You've paid very dearly for your experience," said the Vicar, smiling.
"It's rather hard upon your friends, though, to try such risky
experiments in their presence."
"Next time all will go well. Will you come and see it?"
"Really, my dear Brandon, I respect you very much, as my principal
parishioner, and a man after my own heart, but I'm afraid I shall be too
busy to come next time. I'll wait till the big telescope is ready for
use, when I shall want to peep through; but even then I shall approach
it with fear and trembling. It will look like a great gun, and I shall
always feel afraid of its going off."
"And you, Tom," said his uncle, "what do you say?"
"What about, uncle?"
"Shall you be afraid to come and help silver another time?"
"Oh no, uncle, I think not," replied the boy. "But I say, will my ears
leave off?"
"What, listening?"
"No, uncle; it's just as if I'd got a little tiny muffin-man ringing his
bell in each ear as hard as he can go."
"Try a night's rest," said Uncle Richard. "Yes, I'm very sorry we had
such a mishap."
"Never mind," said the Vicar; "it will give our little glazier a job.
And now I feel rested and better, so good-evening, I'm going home."