and we
quality."

"That's true," said one, "for one honest man is worth two rogues."

"And one culverin three of their footy little ordnance," said another.
"So when you will, captain, and have at her."

"Let her come abreast of us, and don't burn powder. We have the wind,
and can do what we like with her. Serve the men out a horn of ale all
round, steward, and all take your time."

So they waited for five minutes more, and then set to work quietly,
after the fashion of English mastiffs, though, like those mastiffs, they
waxed right mad before three rounds were fired, and the white splinters
(sight beloved) began to crackle and fly.

Amyas, having, as he had said, the wind, and being able to go nearer it
than the Spaniard, kept his place at easy point-blank range for his two
eighteen-pounder culverins, which Yeo and his mate worked with terrible
effect.

"We are lacking her through and through every shot," said he. "Leave the
small ordnance alone yet awhile, and we shall sink her without them."

"Whing, whing," went the Spaniard's shot, like so many humming-tops,
through the rigging far above their heads; for the ill-constructed
ports of those days prevented the guns from hulling an enemy who was to
windward, unless close alongside.

"Blow, jolly breeze," cried one, "and lay the Don over all thou
canst.--What the murrain is gone, aloft there?"

Alas! a crack, a flap, a rattle; and blank dismay! An unlucky shot had
cut the foremast (already wounded) in two, and all forward was a mass of
dangling wreck.

"Forward, and cut away the wreck!" said Amyas, unmoved. "Small arm men,
be ready. He will be aboard of us in five minutes!"

It was too true. The Rose, unmanageable from the loss of her head-sail,
lay at the mercy of the Spaniard; and the archers and musqueteers had
hardly time to range themselves to leeward, when the Madre Dolorosa's
chains were grinding against the Rose's, and grapples tossed on board
from stem to stern.

"Don't cut them loose!" roared Amyas. "Let them stay and see the fun!
Now, dogs of Devon, show your teeth, and hurrah for God and the queen!"

And then began a fight most fierce and fell: the Spaniards, according to
their fashion, attempting to board, the English, amid fierce shouts of
"God and the queen!" "God and St. George for England!" sweeping them
back by showers of arrows and musquet balls, thrusting them down with
pikes, hurling grenades and stink-pots from the tops; while the