Again cautious counsel prevailed. Two prisoners—a Lieutenant from Puna, and the Captain of the Frenchman of recent capture—were sent to parley with the Spaniards.
“The English are afraid!” whispered the inhabitants. “Let us keep them off with braggadocio, and mayhap reinforcements will come to us.”
So they bickered and delayed.
“These dogs would palaver forever,” said Captain Rogers, when negotiations had proceeded for full two days without result. “I, for one, am for attacking the city right now!”
“Yes! On! On!” cried his men.
Even the cautious Dover was ready to advance; so, landing upon the beach, the one hundred and ten ran towards the town with a wild, exultant whoop!
Zip! Zip! came the bullets from the nearer houses, as the privateers advanced.
Boom! Boom! sounded the guns from the Duchess and the Duke, which had edged up near the wharves and anchored. Shells shrieked and burst; guns roared; and, with a hoarse cheer, the English beat down two lines of Spaniards who opposed them.
Back, back, they crushed the defenders of Guayaquil to the market-place in the centre of the town, where four cannon were drawn up behind a barricade which was flanked by cavalry.
Crash! Crash! they roared at the on-coming privateers, and many a man went down before the exploding grape and cannister. But the blood of the English was now up.