"'Tis not my way, Robert, to fight under false colors," he proceeded, as if determined to argue me over to his view-point. "Any sailorman will tell you that, whatever other slander he may relate of Captain Rip-Rap. As for the Jolly Roger—pho! 'Tis a tradition required by any pirate crew. I look upon it as a somewhat humorous attempt to terrify the timid; but I ha' fought under it without shame, since 'tis the only emblem of the sea outlaw. But today 'tis different. We fight, not as pirates, but as servants of King James."
A white puff of smoke jetted from our fo'csle, and a crackling explosion smote our ears. Coupeau had fired the first shot from one of the chase guns, long eighteens, beautiful bronze pieces of prodigious range. Involuntarily we all focused our eyes upon the treasure-ship, and a cheer from the gun-crews applauded the flapping rent that showed in the bulge of the Spaniard's foretops'l.
"Excellent!" murmured my great-uncle.
The Santissima Trinidad staggered for an instant like a man who has been struck unexpectedly by one he supposed to be a friend. Then she yawed to give us a full view of her colors; and as she yawed, broadening the target, Coupeau fired again. 'Twas a low shot, fired as the James dropped into the trough betwixt two waves, and all we could see of it was that apparently it plowed into the waist.
The Spaniard fired a gun to leeward and put over his helm, aiming to cross our bows and head up for Santo Domingo. Plainly he did not know what to make of the incident. To all appearances the Royal James was a King's ship. She showed the English naval ensign. To a Spanish eye, at any rate, she might well seem to possess the solidly rakish aspect which was the usual keynote of an English frigate. So he evidently decided that hostilities must have broken out between the two countries, and in obedience to his sailing-orders endeavored to avoid a fight and make for the nearest fortified Spanish port.
But the James sailed two feet to the treasure-ship's one; and, splendidly handled, we overhauled her within a glass of the first shot. In the meantime Coupeau kept pecking away at her, and as we came within range of our main battery her foretopmast crashed, covering her fo'csle with a tangle of top-hamper.
This was too much for her people, and she put up her helm, brought her entire battery to bear and let fly at us with all her starboard metal. 'Twas a poorly managed salvo, yet three or four round-shot swished across our decks, and an eighteen-pounder smashed a couple of men to jelly just for'ard of the poop.
Murray stepped to the poop-rail to examine the damage and shouted to Coupeau:
"Hold your broadside, Master Gunner! He must come to to clear his decks."
And to Martin, who was conning the ship: