he two
vessels grated together, and a stream of swarthy, red-capped Spaniards
were swarming up the sides of the Basilisk and dropped with yells of
triumph upon her deck.

For a moment it seemed as if the vessel was captured without a blow
being struck, for the men of the English ship had run wildly in all
directions to look for their arms. Scores of archers might be seen under
the shadow of the forecastle and the poop bending their bowstaves to
string them with the cords from their waterproof cases. Others were
scrambling over saddles, barrels and cases in wild search of their
quivers. Each as he came upon his arrows pulled out a few to lend to his
less fortunate comrades. In mad haste the men-at-arms also were feeling
and grasping in the dark corners, picking up steel caps which would not
fit them, hurling them down on the deck, and snatching eagerly at any
swords or spears that came their way.

The center of the ship was held by the Spaniards; and having slain all
who stood before them, they were pressing up to either end before they
were made to understand that it was no fat sheep but a most fierce old
wolf which they had taken by the ears.

If the lesson was late, it was the more thorough. Attacked on both sides
and hopelessly outnumbered, the Spaniards, who had never doubted that
this little craft was a merchant-ship, were cut off to the last man.
It was no fight, but a butchery. In vain the survivors ran screaming
prayers to the saints and threw themselves down into the galley
alongside. It also had been riddled with arrows from the poop of the
Basilisk, and both the crew on the deck and the galley-slaves in the
outriggers at either side lay dead in rows under the overwhelming
shower from above. From stem to rudder every foot of her was furred
with arrows. It was but a floating coffin piled with dead and dying men,
which wallowed in the waves behind them as the Basilisk lurched onward
and left her in the fog.

In their first rush on to the Basilisk, the Spaniards had seized six of
the crew and four unarmed archers. Their throats had been cut and
their bodies tossed overboard. Now the Spaniards who littered the deck,
wounded and dead, were thrust over the side in the same fashion. One ran
down into the hold and had to be hunted and killed squealing under the
blows like a rat in the darkness. Within half an hour no sign was left
of this grim meeting in the fog save for the crimson splashes upon
bulwarks and dec