he flag," cried Alleyne, vainly struggling to break
from the other's hold.

"Bide here, man. You would need wings ere you could reach Sir Nigel's
side."

The vessels were indeed so far apart now that the Genoese could use the
full sweep of their oars, and draw away rapidly from the cog.

"My God, but it is a noble fight!" shouted big John, clapping his
hands. "They have cleared the poop, and they spring into the waist. Well
struck, my lord! Well struck, Aylward! See to Black Simon, how he storms
among the shipmen! But this Spade-beard is a gallant warrior. He rallies
his men upon the forecastle. He hath slain an archer. Ha! my lord is
upon him. Look to it, Alleyne! See to the whirl and glitter of it!"

"By heaven, Sir Nigel is down!" cried the squire.

"Up!" roared John. "It was but a feint. He bears him back. He drives
him to the side. Ah, by Our Lady, his sword is through him! They cry for
mercy. Down goes the red cross, and up springs Simon with the scarlet
roses!"

The death of the Genoese leader did indeed bring the resistance to an
end. Amid a thunder of cheering from cog and from galleys the forked
pennon fluttered upon the forecastle, and the galley, sweeping round,
came slowly back, as the slaves who rowed it learned the wishes of their
new masters.

The two knights had come aboard the cog, and the grapplings having been
thrown off, the three vessels now moved abreast through all the storm
and rush of the fight Alleyne had been aware of the voice of Goodwin
Hawtayne, the master-shipman, with his constant "Hale the bowline!
Veer the sheet!" and strange it was to him to see how swiftly the
blood-stained sailors turned from the strife to the ropes and back. Now
the cog's head was turned Francewards, and the shipman walked the deck,
a peaceful master-mariner once more.

"There is sad scath done to the cog, Sir Nigel," said he. "Here is a
hole in the side two ells across, the sail split through the centre,
and the wood as bare as a friar's poll. In good sooth, I know not what I
shall say to Master Witherton when I see the Itchen once more."

"By St. Paul! it would be a very sorry thing if we suffered you to be
the worse of this day's work," said Sir Nigel. "You shall take these
galleys back with you, and Master Witherton may sell them. Then from the
moneys he shall take as much as may make good the damage, and the rest
he shall keep until our home-coming, when every man shall have his
share. An image of s