A goodly fleet of stout ships, with bulging sails, and gayly-coloured
banners and streamers flying, sailed down Plymouth Sound before a
favouring breeze, which promised to waft them along steadily towards the
sunny latitudes of the tropics. There sailed the Red Dragon, of full
three hundred tons and forty pieces of ordnance--the admiral's ship; and
there was the Serpent, of not less than two hundred and fifty tons--the
vice-admiral's ship; and the Lion, of not much less tonnage and armament
than the Serpent; there was the Lion's Whelp, a tall ship, and two
pinnaces, the Sunshine and Moonshine, the larger ships carrying each
from one hundred to one hundred and thirty men, and the pinnaces thirty
men each; and as for arms, besides great guns, they were amply provided
with culverins, sakers, falconets, and murtherers, the latter
unpleasantly-named pieces being similar to blunderbusses on swivels, and
loaded with small shot, and scraps of iron, lead, or stones. No little
squadron in those days could have been more amply equipped, provisioned,
and found in every way, or better manned or commanded.
It must be remarked that the pictorial representations of ships of those
days give us a very erroneous notion of what ships really were. Ships
capable of performing long voyages in tempestuous seas, and ships on
tapestry--worked by fair fingers, which, however ably they might have
plied their needles, were scarcely capable of delineating accurately
those wonderful constructions on which the eyes of the workers had
probably never rested--are very different from each other. The ships
now described sailing down Plymouth Sound were strongly-built craft,
with bows not over-bluff and sides not over-high. They had erections on
deck, both at the bows and stern, rising some five feet above it, or a
little more, perhaps, on the top of which men could stand for fighting
or working some of the sheets and braces of the lighter sails, while the
halyards and other chief ropes lead to the main deck. In these said
erections, or castles, as they were called, still to be seen in most
foreign and many English merchantmen, somewhat modified and in more
pacific guise, there were port-holes, with guns projecting from them
both at the sides and outer ends, and also along the deck. Thus an
enemy having gained the deck would be exposed to a hot fire from the
defenders under shelter of the wooden walls of the two castles. On the
fore and main mast the sails were square, and there were also staysails
fore and aft. On the mizzen-mast there was a large lateen yard and
sail, such as is still seen in the Mediterranean. It was a useful and
powerful sail for plying to windward, gaff-sails not having then been
invented. The tops were circular, and heavier than would now be
approved of, but certainly not the heavy constructions they are
represented in pictures. The holds of those vessels were very
capacious, and the cabins were fitted not without regard to comfort and
luxury, and were often richly ornamented.
Such was the squadron to which the Lion belonged, and on board the Lion
sailed Antony Waymouth as master's mate or chief officer under the
captain, and his friend Edward Raymond, to whom was awarded the office
of cosmographer, he being at the same time an adventurer of some three
hundred pounds. Of the Lion an honourable gentleman, John Wood, was
captain, and Master James Walker, a truly worthy man, and pious withal,
the minister. Captain Lancaster, a man of renown and valour, was the
admiral and general; and Nicholas Parker, captain of the Serpent, the
vice-admiral. Of the rest of the officers and gentlemen adventurers it
is not necessary here to speak. That they were not a godless or a
lawless company, intent only on plunder, may be proved by the following
rules and articles set down for their guidance:
"The usual service appointed by the Church of England to be said twice a
day. Due reverence to be given to the ministers. Not to suffer
swearing, dicing, card-playing, or other vain talk. Conspiring against
the life of the general or any other in authority to be punished by
death. To follow the admiral day and night and no man to be so bold as
to go before him. To speak with him every morning and night. Not to be
more than an English mile from him. Signals: Not to give chase without
the admiral's orders. Watchwords: `if God be with us;' answer, `Who
shall be against us?' If an enemy be encountered, rather to be on the
defensive than the offensive."
Waymouth showed these articles to Raymond, observing--"You see, Ned, we
seamen are not, the godless reprobates some who grow rich upon our toil
and danger would wish to make it appear. Where would you find a more
humble Christian man than good Master Walker, our minister? and surely
the example he and the other chaplains of the fleet set is not without
its due influence among the crews."
Waymouth spoke the truth. It was not till many years after this that
the character of the British seaman changed very much for the worse. No
chaplains were then sent to sea; religion was ignored, and, as a
consequence, the mass of seamen became godless, swearing, vicious
reprobates, little better than heathens in their religion or morality.
On board Captain Lancaster's fleet, however, order was well maintained,
and the ministers setting a good example, religion flourished more than
among most communities on shore.
All honour be to our sea-going ancestors! They were brave, sincere,
zealous, and energetic men; black was black with them, and white white.
They had, it must be owned, some queer notions as to right and wrong,
and honest traders on the north of the line seemed to consider
themselves justified in acting the part of pirates to the south of it.
Like the Arabs of the desert, their hand was against every man, and
every man's hand against them. In the East, Spaniards, Portugals,
Hollanders, and English were at ceaseless war with each other; or when
the Hollanders pretended to side with the latter, it was simply for the
purpose of betraying them and injuring their commerce in those parts.
As Raymond stood on the aftercastle of the Lion, watching the
fast-receding shores of Old England, his spirit sank within him. He was
thinking--and shame, to him if he was not--of Beatrice. Not for a
moment did he doubt her love and constancy; but he thought of the
dangers to which she might be exposed should troublous times again
arise--of her grief should he not be destined to return. He had others,
also, whom he loved at home; his widowed mother, his brothers, and,
above all, his sister Constance, the dear friend of his Beatrice, unlike
her in appearance, for Constance was a dark-eyed, dark-haired beauty,
full of life and animation, but like her in goodness and sense, and the
sweetness of her disposition. Hugh Willoughby affected her, but it was
evidently with a mere boyish admiration, and she regarded him in no
other light than as her friend's brother.
Edward's reveries were broken in on by Waymouth, who sprang up on the
deck of the aftercastle and clapped him, as was his wont, on the
shoulder, exclaiming--
"What! disconsolate, Ned? Turn thee about, lad; the old country will
not move till we come back, depend on that. Look ahead! that's the way
we seamen set our eyes. Even now the admiral has made a signal that
several sail are in sight under all canvas, steering for the south.
Spaniards or Portugals I hope they may prove, and if so, and we come up
with them, thou'lt have the satisfaction of enjoying a sea fight before
we've been forty-eight hours on the salt ocean."
Edward's attention was instantly aroused. Nothing in the then state of
his feelings he would so much enjoy as a battle. Not that he had seen
one, nor had he pictured its horrors very clearly to himself. Had he,
possibly he would not have been so anxious for it. The hope of booty
animated the ship's company generally, though some declared that it was
the desire to destroy Papists, the born enemies of England, at which
their minister, Master Walker, severely rebuked them, telling them that
it was filthy lucre, and that alone, they desired, and that the sword
was not the weapon to win men over to the truth, or to use against men
who held not the truth.
"The sword repelleth friends," he continued. "Kind words and gentle
usage attract those who have been our foes. Such are the weapons
Protestants should use against their Papist adversaries."
Master Walker's plain speaking and honest dealing with those over whose
spiritual welfare he had the charge made him generally beloved, though a
few bad tempers disliked him. To Waymouth and Raymond he was a sincere
and warm friend, as he was in truth, as far as they would let him, to
all who sailed on board the fleet. The chase continued; but the
strangers, whatever their nation, were fleet craft. So far they had
been gained on as to be seen from the tops of the Lion. Though
outnumbering the English, they continued their flight; southward they
sailed, and southward after them sailed their pursuers. The Spaniards
had received so many severe lessons of late that they had learned to
consider discretion the best part of valour. Henceforth their history
was to show a retrogressive movement. Their black injustice and
horrible cruelties to the natives of Mexico and Peru were to meet with
just retribution. The cries of thousands ascending from their
inquisitorial prisons were not unheard. National sins were to meet with
national punishment. They had been tried in the balance, and found
wanting. So it has gone on. The land of Spain, bountifully blessed by
Nature, still holds a people grovelling in the dust of ignorance and
superstition. At that time it is difficult to overstate, though not to
believe, the utter detestation in which the Spaniards were held by all
true-hearted Englishmen, and in which the Portugals over whom they held
sway had to share. The chase continued till night hid the strangers
from the sharp eyes of the men on the lookout at the mast-heads. In
vain were they looked for the next morning.
"Never mind," said Waymouth as he walked the deck; "the world is round:
Sir Francis Drake has proved it so. We'll come up with them in the
course of the circle."
The belief that the enemy were ahead urged the bold mariners to carry
sail night and day, so that their run to the south was unusually rapid.
Raymond devoted himself to the study of navigation and to practising the
use of such nautical instruments as were then invented; nor did he
neglect to gain a knowledge of the object of the ropes and sails, and
the mode of dealing with a ship under various circumstances, so that
Waymouth soon pronounced him an accomplished seaman. There occurred but
one event worth narrating for some time. Sixteen sail were seen
approaching, and the fleet got ready for action. The strangers,
however, turned out to be Hamburg hulks from Lisbon; but the obstinate
Hollanders refused to strike to the English flag--a piece of folly not
to be borne--so they were fired into and compelled to heave to. Boats
were then sent on board, and such articles as were likely to prove
useful were taken out of them, it being evident that they were loaded
with Spanish property. They were then charitably allowed to proceed on
their voyage. We will not describe the mummeries and other ceremonies
which took place on crossing the line, introduced by some Genoese seamen
on board, such as they said their countrymen were wont to indulge in
formerly on passing through the "Gut of Gibbelterra," and now of late in
these same latitudes. It was not much to good Master Walker's taste,
seeing that numerous profane gods and goddesses of the sea were
introduced--Hercules and Orion, and Venus and Neptune, and others,
Tritons and odd fish of all sorts. Without misadventure the squadron
reached Sierra Leone, where the blacks were friendly, and, taking in
water and fresh provisions, stood across to the coast of Brazil. Here a
brighter lookout than ever was kept, and not without avail, for when
about eight leagues from the shore they descried a small Portugal ship,
which they chased and took, of about fifty tons' burden, bound up the
River Plate. She had forty-two negroes on board for Peru, and two
Portugal women and a child passengers, with some sugar, rice, and
sweetmeats. The next day another Portugal ship was captured. Waymouth
in his journal remarked, "that the only riches in her besides slaves and
friars were beads, pictures, and other spiritual trinkets--furniture
designed for the use of a new monastery."
The pilot of this ship turned out to be an Englishman--one Dick Carter,
from Limehouse--who had been so long away from home that he had almost
lost all use of his native tongue.
"Why, lad, we have a man aboard--Tom Carter--from the same place,"
observed Waymouth, as the man tried in broken accents to narrate his
history.
Tom was sent for, and, sure enough, the two proved to be brothers. Dick
gladly consented to serve on board the Lion, and informed Waymouth, in
gratitude for his kind treatment, that a Spanish squadron of
considerable force was daily expected in the Plate. The admiral,
however, instead of trying to avoid them, resolved to await their
coming, and, entering the river, cast anchor.
"Now, Ned, we shall have our hearts' desire," exclaimed Waymouth, as he
stopped for a minute near his friend while going round the decks to see
that the ship was ready for a fight.
The day was passing away, when, about four o'clock in the afternoon,
five sail of large ships and several smaller ones were seen rounding a
point in the river. The English, therefore, in warlike manner set their
watch, the trumpets sounded, the drums beat, and the admiral opened fire
on the approaching enemy, who, however, anchored out of shot, the better
to prepare for the expected fight. They were some little time in doing
this, and then once more they advanced, it being now nightfall. The
wind had dropped, so the Spaniards' boats towed on their big ships with
the intent of boarding the English. Both sides were, meantime, plying
their guns and small arms with vigour; the English with the greater
success, as their men were more at liberty. The Spanish vice-admiral
was seen with two smaller ships bearing down on the Lion; Captain Wood
was, therefore, compelled to slip his cable, to prevent them driving
athwart his hawse. A breeze springing up, he was able to make sail and
lay the galleon alongside, caring little for the smaller ships. Now
began a most desperate fight, the bright flashes of the guns making
night appear like day; the rattle of the small arms, the roar of the
heavy ordnance, the sounding of the trumpets and drums, the shouts and
shrieks of combatants, creating a turmoil terrible to novices--and
confusing to the senses.
The Lion enjoyed a large share of the fight, everybody being actively
engaged, the captain himself firing a musket like the rest. One of the
Spanish frigates, coming too near her, received so heavy a storm of
shot, that, one penetrating her magazine, with a loud roar she blew up,
when her companion sheered off, not wishing to share the same fate. The
Lion now turned her whole fury on the galleon, which she kept at a
respectful distance. Suddenly the galleon's fire ceased. The darkness
was great; she could nowhere be seen. Captain Wood now stood away to
support the admiral and the other ships; they were hard pressed, though
fighting valiantly. The Lion soon had an enemy worthy to contend with
in a Portugal galleon which had come in with the Spaniards, and now
hoped, by attacking a ship partly disabled by a long combat, to come off
the conqueror. The English captain, as did his young lieutenant, called
on their men to exert themselves to the utmost to fight for the honour
of Old England. Raymond supported them bravely, and, though at length
wounded in the arm, he refused to leave the deck. Thus the fight
continued, Captain Wood making several attempts to board his opponent,
which the latter nimbly avoided. The admiral and vice-admiral were all
the time hotly engaged. The former was seen to run a large Spaniard
aboard, when, after a hot discharge of great guns, flames were observed
to burst forth from one ship or the other, and thus they drove by till
no longer to be distinguished. The last seen of the Serpent was in
chase of some Spaniard, as her tall masts, like some huge monster of the
deep, glided by past the Lion. Towards morning the moon disappeared,
clouds overspread the sky, the Portugal thought it wise to sheer off,
and the brave ship's company of the Lion waited anxiously for daylight
to ascertain the fate of their friends and foes. For fear of the ship
being drifted on shore, Captain Wood again anchored.
As soon as the fight was over, Waymouth hastened to look for his friend.
He found him below in the hands of the surgeon. Raymond bore the pain
bravely. Waymouth congratulated him.
"You've had a taste of what a sea fight is like, Ned," he observed.
"Maybe before we get back to Old England we may have to count scores
such, for, no doubt, the Portugals and Spaniards, and even the
Hollanders, will give us plenty of occasions to prove our valour."
Raymond replied that he was ready for another fight, and should be
willing to meet the foes of England wherever they were to be found.
It appeared probable that he would at once have another opportunity,
for, as daylight broke, a large ship was discerned bearing down on them
under all sail. She was the Portugal. The Lion's crew flew to their
guns, and as she came near plied her so well with their shot that she
was fain to sheer off, and to stand down towards the river's mouth. As
she stood away, an officer of rank--so he seemed by his fine garments
and feather in his cap--sprang on the aftercastle, and, shaking his
fist, cried out through his trumpet--
"We shall meet you again ere long, you hated English, and then we shall
have our revenge."
"Let the dog bark who runs away. Though he shows his teeth he dare not
use them," exclaimed Waymouth with a scornful laugh.
The increasing light had shown some way astern the topmasts of a ship
out of the water, crowded with people. Was the foundered ship a friend
or foe? As soon as they were clear of the Portugal ship two boats were
lowered, and made towards the spot where the masts appeared. At the
same time several boats were seen putting off from the shore, clearly
belonging to Spaniards. When they, on their part, beheld the English
approaching, fearing their prowess, from which they had suffered so
much, they put back, leaving their countrymen to their fate.
The poor people on the masts, who had been clinging there for the
greater part of the night, held out their hands, imploring succour.
This English sailors have ever been ready to give to those in distress,
whether friends or foes. The boats, therefore, approached to take off
the nearly-exhausted people. Waymouth, who was in the first boat,
perceived, as he fancied, the flutter of a female's dress. On the
cross-trees, just above the water, lay a young lady, her head resting on
the arm of an old and dignified-looking man, while the two were further
supported by four or five faithful seamen who clung near them. The
seamen waved their hands to attract the notice of the English.
"Take this lady off first," they cried out. "Save her and her father;
mind not us."
Waymouth required no further inducement to exertion than the sight that
feminine gear had excited. The Spanish seamen refrained from leaping
into the boat as she came up to the mast, allowing Waymouth to climb up
and release the lady from her painful and perilous position. Carefully
he lifted her into the boat, and placed her in the after-part.
"Oh, meu pai! meu pai!" she cried out in the tongue of the
Portugals--"Oh, my father! my father!"
"Have no fear, fair lady," cried Waymouth, who understood it slightly;
"he is safe." And, springing back, he assisted the old gentleman into
the boat. The latter, as far as his exhausted slate would allow,
expressed his thanks.
Not till now did the Spanish seamen descend into the boat. As soon as
he had received as many as she could carry, Waymouth returned with them
to the Lion. The care of the surgeon and good Master Walker soon
restored the young lady--for young she was and beautiful--to a state of
consciousness and quietude. Her nerves had been sorely shaken by the
combat, the sinking of the ship, and terrible danger to which she had
been exposed. Her father, the old gentleman, was, it appeared, Don Joao
Pinto d'Almeida, the governor of a Portugal settlement in the East; she
was the Donna Isabel d'Almeida, his only child. Though Portugals, they
had taken passage aboard this Spanish ship, intending to proceed on
their farther voyage in the one which had escaped and left them to their
fate. The Portugal ship was the Santa Barba, and her captain Don Pedro
de Lima. Don Joao seemed glad to hear that the Santa Barba had escaped
capture, and supposed that in the darkness Don Pedro had not seen the
wreck. Meantime most of the people from the masts had been rescued and
brought on board the Lion.
While the boats were thus engaged, firing was heard, and several ships
were seen approaching, hotly engaged, down the mighty Plate stream,
compared to which the rivers of Europe seem but purling brooks. It was
a sad fate for the poor wretches on the masts to be thus left to starve
or fall off and be drowned, but there was no time for delay. The Lion
lifted her anchor, and made sail to join in the combat. Her rigging had
been repaired as far as practicable, so that she was fresh for the
fight. The rest of the English squadron and four Spaniards or Portugals
were observed fiercely exchanging shots with each other. The enemy,
probably, had already enjoyed a sufficient taste of the quality of the
English to be tired of the fight, for no sooner was the Lion observed
drawing near with drums beating, trumpets braying forth defiance, and
ordnance speaking a still more decided language, than they steered for
the shore on either side, and ran hard and fast aground. Some of the
people in the enemy's ships took to their boats, others leaped overboard
and swam to the shore, and several were seen running backwards and
forwards at their wits' end, the English cannon thundering furiously at
them; while a few bold spirits stood at their quarters, and returned the
fire from their own pieces. However, they could not long maintain the
unequal fight; flames burst forth from the ports of the ships, and one
after the other, before any booty could be obtained from them, they blew
up, till not a Spaniard remained to dispute the passage of the river.
Now the English admiral thought fit to anchor his fleet opposite a
pleasant spot near the mouth of the river, and, the larger number of the
company landing, a fort was erected to guard against surprise, and the
repairing of the ships commenced.
As yet they had gained much of what men call glory and renown,
concerning the value of which there may be some dispute; but they had
obtained no booty, about the desirableness of which there cannot be two
opinions. So thought the adventurers. They were all eager, therefore,
to proceed to the East, where they expected to find it in abundance, and
accordingly hurried on the refitting of the ships. It was well that
they did so, for scarcely was the squadron once more clear of the land
than a large fleet was seen approaching the mouth of the river. The
English ships stood on their course, for the strangers, undoubtedly
Spaniards and Portugals, were too numerous to be trifled with. The
enemy were soon seen to make sail in chase. The English set all their
canvas, not to avoid the fight, but to separate the ships of the enemy,
so as to deal first with the faster sailers. The plan answered; but the
leading Spanish ships soon got such a taste of the guns of the Dragon,
the Serpent, and the Lion, that they dropped astern, the rest not
deeming it prudent to take their places, content with boasting that they
had put an English squadron to flight.
Thus triumphantly the English ships sailed on their way across the
Atlantic till they neared the Cape Bona Spei, or Bona Speranza, as in
those days the Cape of Good Hope was frequently called. Once more they
dropped anchor in Saldanha Bay, a place at which most vessels sailing to
Cathay were wont to touch. The common people among the prisoners had
been left on shore in America; but the officers and the Portugal
governor and his daughter, and some attendants, had been carried on, the
admiral deeming that they might be useful to exchange with any English
persons of quality who might have been captured by the Portugals; or, if
not, that a good ransom might be obtained for them. Don Joao and Donna
Isabel remained accordingly on board the Lion, where Captain Wood, as
did his young lieutenant, paid them all the attention in their power.
Waymouth admired the fair captive. He could speak her language better
than most on board, and many an hour, not unnaturally, he passed in her
company. It is possible that his feelings might have run away with him
altogether had he not had so grave a monitor as Edward Raymond by his
side, who was ever whispering that Donna Isabel was of a country at
enmity with his, of a faith differing greatly from his, and that, though
her attractions were great, there were many fair ladies in England
possessed of still greater, and more suited to be his bride. These
remarks did not exactly go in at one ear and out the other; but no
sooner did Donna Isabel appear on deck than they were forgotten for the
time. That Donna Isabel had, however, any other feeling than that of
gratitude for Antony Waymouth, no one on board could say, for she was
equally courteous to Raymond and to all the other officers.
Don Joao meantime was very anxious to be liberated, as he wanted to get
to his government, and he was continually urging his captors to allow
him to depart on board the first Portugal ship they might meet, he
undertaking to pay a large ransom for himself and daughter. Captain
Wood was a jovial-hearted and mannered man. He laughed loudly at the
proposal.
"Thine own ransom, worthy senhor, we shall fix at not less than five
hundred golden pieces; and for thy daughter, we must allow Antony
Waymouth to arrange that."
The captain spoke in jest, but to Waymouth the proposal caused sore
perplexity. He was grieved to have to part with her, in the first
place. In the second, if he named a ransom at what he considered her
value, it would be high indeed; if he mentioned a small sum, it would
appear as if he held her in low esteem. He was very much inclined to
quarrel with his captain on the matter; but the more perplexed he
appeared the more determined Captain Wood became to fix him to the
point. He walked the deck in a state of great agitation. All sorts of
mad schemes occurred to him.
He had paced up and down for some time when he was joined by Raymond,
who had heard of his perplexity.
"Let me judge if I may help to get thee free of thy difficulty," said
Raymond, who, having an older head on his shoulders, was not so troubled
as his younger friend about the matter. "You have to name the value of
this fair Portugal donna; you esteem her very highly too."
"Yes, indeed I do. She is the most charming, sweet, enchanting creature
my eyes have ever beheld or expect to behold," exclaimed Waymouth,
uttering many other rhapsodical expressions, which his friend did not
interrupt. When he ceased, the latter quietly remarked--
"Well, repeat all you have said to our captain, and then declare that,
as she is above all price, so no price would pay her ransom, and that,
therefore, she is entitled to go free."
Waymouth struck his forehead, surprised that so bright a thought had
never occurred to him, and, thanking Edward, hastened to the captain to
give his reply.
It was taken in good part; no one was inclined to gainsay it; and Don
Joao undertook to pay the required sum, how, when, and where it might be
demanded.
"At your own castle, when we can get there, and to whomsoever we may
depute," was the reply.
Perfect confidence was placed in Don Joao that he would pay the money.
At that time the Portugals and the Spaniards were held in respect for
their rigid adherence to the code of honour which they had laid down for
themselves.
The difficulty was to find a ship by which to send them, as the admiral
was unwilling to go out of his course to land them. Hitherto the
squadron had avoided all disaster, though not successful in making
prizes. They were now in a part of the ocean where fearful hurricanes
were at times to be expected, and in a latitude full of little-known
islands and rocks; at the same time, they might hope to meet with
numerous ships of the enemy.
Waymouth, as he thought on having to part with Donna Isabel so soon,
became more and more downcast, though Edward and good Master Walker, the
minister, and the other officers, did their utmost to keep up his
spirits; some, like Raymond and Master Walker, by entering into his
feelings; others, like Captain Wood, by bantering and quizzing.
"A sail! a sail!" was shouted from the mast-head, whence a bright
lookout was constantly kept. Chase was made--the stranger was
overtaken. She proved to be a Portugal, a straggler from a large
squadron supposed to be far ahead.
Not a moment was to be lost. Every article of value was taken from her
except the fittings of her chief cabin, some guns for signals, and
provisions sufficient to last her till she could reach the Malabar
coast. The admiral then ordered the prisoners to be placed in her.
Waymouth had the duty of conveying them.
Donna Isabel spoke but little, keeping her head muffled in her hood.
The English lieutenant tried to talk, but never had he felt so
tongue-tied. This was not surprising. He could say nothing definite
about the future, and he had little to say about the past. He carefully
helped her up the side, and placed her on a seat on the deck of the
Tiger. Don Joao was profuse in his expressions of gratitude for the
treatment he and his daughter had received, and over and over again
declared that it would afford him intense satisfaction to pay his ransom
whenever demanded. Waymouth, like a true sailor, had hurried below to
see what arrangements could be made for the comfort and convenience of
Donna Isabel, and, having pointed out to the officers of the ship what
was to be done, had returned on deck resolved to pour out all his
feelings into her ear, when a gun from the admiral, repeated by the
Lion, warned him that he must not delay another moment. All he could do
was to bow low as he passed the lady and her father, utter a low
farewell, and, leaping into his boat, pull back to the Lion as fast as
his men could bend to their oars. The squadron instantly made all sail
in chase of the enemy supposed to be ahead. For some time Waymouth had
too much to do to look towards the ship on board which he had left the
Portugal governor and his daughter, and when he did look she appeared
but a speck on the horizon. He stood gazing, lost in a reverie. He was
aroused by a slap on the shoulder.
"Look ahead! that's the way we seamen set our faces," said a voice near
him, "quoting your own words, coz. We have changed places, methinks."
Waymouth, looking round, saw Raymond and several other officers standing
behind him. He heaved a sigh, and then joined in the laugh in which the
rest were indulging. He had been too long at sea not to know the folly
of growing angry under such circumstances. Besides, as he confessed to
Raymond, he could not help feeling relieved at having no longer so
important a charge. A brighter lookout than ever was kept on board the
squadron, that they might not pass the enemy. Just before noon on the
third day some strange sail were descried ahead. They increased in
numbers: they were tall ships. There could be no doubt that they were
those of the Portugal fleet they were in chase of, but far more numerous
than they had been led to expect. Still undaunted, the brave admiral
and his officers resolved to attack them. The Portugals saw the English
approaching, and no longer, like caitiffs, flying before the foe, hauled
their wind, and, forming a semicircle, prepared to receive them. In
spite of the mighty superiority of the Portugals, the English sailed on
in compact order, the men at their guns, their matches in their hands
ready to open fire, every one in the fleet prepared for death or
victory.