oeuvre, the "principal galleon of
Seville," in which are Pedro de Valdez and a host of blue-blooded Dons,
runs foul of her neighbor, carries away her foremast, and is, in spite
of Spanish chivalry, left to her fate. This does not look like victory,
certainly. But courage! though Valdez be left behind, "our Lady," and
the saints, and the bull Caena Domini (dictated by one whom I dare not
name here), are with them still, and it were blasphemous to doubt. But
in the meanwhile, if they have fared no better than this against a
third of the Plymouth fleet, how will they fare when those forty
belated ships, which are already whitening the blue between them and the
Mewstone, enter the scene to play their part?

So ends the first day; not an English ship, hardly a man, is hurt.
It has destroyed for ever, in English minds, the prestige of boastful
Spain. It has justified utterly the policy which the good Lord Howard
had adopted by Raleigh's and Drake's advice, of keeping up a running
fight, instead of "clapping ships together without consideration," in
which case, says Raleigh, "he had been lost, if he had not been better
advised than a great many malignant fools were, who found fault with his
demeanor."

Be that as it may, so ends the first day, in which Amyas and the other
Bideford ships have been right busy for two hours, knocking holes in a
huge galleon, which carries on her poop a maiden with a wheel, and bears
the name of Sta. Catharina. She had a coat of arms on the flag at her
sprit, probably those of the commandant of soldiers; but they were shot
away early in the fight, so Amyas cannot tell whether they were De
Soto's or not. Nevertheless, there is plenty of time for private
revenge; and Amyas, called off at last by the admiral's signal, goes
to bed and sleeps soundly.

But ere he has been in his hammock an hour, he is awakened by Cary's
coming down to ask for orders.

"We were to follow Drake's lantern, Amyas; but where it is, I can't
see, unless he has been taken up aloft there among the stars for a new
Drakium Sidus."

Amyas turns out grumbling: but no lantern is to be seen; only a sudden
explosion and a great fire on board some Spaniard, which is gradually
got under, while they have to lie-to the whole night long, with nearly
the whole fleet.

The next morning finds them off Torbay; and Amyas is hailed by a
pinnace, bringing a letter from Drake, which (saving the spelling, which
was somewhat arbitrary, like