“She’s a treasure ship,” cried a sailor. “And she won’t fight if she can avoid it!”
Walker turned to his officers and asked,
“Gentlemen, shall we fight her?”
“Aye! Aye!” came from all. “She’s afraid of us!”
The vessel, in fact, was a treasure ship which had been recently chased by some English men-of-war and had already landed her treasure, to the value of about one million sterling (about $5,000,000). A slight breeze sprang up, at about five in the afternoon, and the big ship kept on her course; the gamey King George following, while the white sails of the Prince Frederick were far astern, as the breeze had not yet struck her. So they swashed along, the Englishmen anxious for a fight, and a chance to overhaul the supposed treasure which the stranger was carrying. At eight o’clock the King George was struck by a favorable puff of wind, and came quite close to the seventy-four. It was time for battle.
“What ship is that?” hailed Captain Walker, in the Portuguese tongue. He was cleared for action and his men were all lying down at their quarters. There was no answer to his challenge.
“What ship is that?” he asked again; this time in English.
A voice came back,—also in English,
“And what ship may you be?”
“The King George.”