The smoke now cleared away and no ship was to be seen upon the surface of the water. The Glorioso was still-belching both smoke and flame, and near her were three sails, indistinctly seen through a haze of smoke and fog. Could it not have been the Duke, after all? “Vain thought,” cried bold Walker, aloud. “Our bravest and best ship has gone to the bottom.”
This terrible incident had such an effect upon the seamen of the King George that Captain Walker called the officers aside into the companionway, and there made them a speech.
“My brave men,” said he, “you must keep up an air of cheerfulness before these fellows of ours, for, otherwise they will be backward in fighting, and will not have the courage which we desire. Go among them and show no sign that you are lacking in pleasantry.”
As he ceased speaking there was a series of sudden explosions, mingled with cries of alarm.
“Gad zooks! What’s happened!” cried all, rushing to the deck.
They found matters in a sorry state, for the crew was in a panic; some clinging outside the ship; some climbing out upon the bowsprit, all ready to jump overboard should the vessel blow up.
Captain Walker was astonished. “Why, men!” said he. “What means this confusion?”
It was easily explained, for the alarm had been caused by a seaman who stepped upon a number of loaded muskets, which had been covered by a sail. One was fired off accidentally, and this exploded some spare ammunition, set the sail on fire, and completely demoralized the crew; who still were thinking of the sad tragedy which they had just witnessed. Order was quickly restored, the blazing sail was torn down and bucketed, and the terrified sailors came back to their posts. When men have their nerves shattered, it is easy to startle them.
But how about the Glorioso?
The fair-fighting Spaniard was far out of sight, by now, still whanging away at her many enemies, and still proudly flaunting the flag of Arragon in the faces of the British war-dogs, who were snapping and snarling at her like a wolf pack. What became of her was not known for several days, when the poor, battered King George staggered into a sheltering harbor, there to meet with the Duke herself, which was Dottin’s good ship,—the one which all had thought to have exploded and sunk.