"Shall I take the helm again, or leave it to Biddle?" he asked.
"Fegs, I say leave it to him, and do 'ee take the match, sir. I'se warrant 'ee'd be quicker than Billy Hawk. Biddle will port the helm when I give the word; he hates you and me, but he hates the Spaniards worse."
This time the gun had been loaded with chain shot. At a hail from Amos, Biddle put the helm down, the vessel swung round, and as soon as she was broadside to the enemy Amos carefully laid the gun, loosening the quoin, and thereby elevating the muzzle, which he pointed straight for the pursuer's foremast. But the enemy was now more alert. At the first sign of the Mirandola yawing the galleon began to swing round by the stern, so that the two vessels came broadside on within a few moments of each other. Those few moments gave time for Amos to resight his gun. Dennis stood ready, match in hand.
"Now!" said the mariner, as the Mirandola sank on the roll while the galleon rose.
The gun spoke. Only a second or two later it seemed to the crew of the Mirandola that the end of all things must have come. With a thunderous roar the whole broadside of the enemy burst upon them. Some of the enemy's shots passed clean over the smaller vessel; her masts almost miraculously escaped harm, but her hull was struck in half a dozen places, and her long-boat splintered to atoms. And the big gun, breaking loose from its extemporized breechings, recoiled obliquely across the waist, smashed through the forecastle, and plunged with a resounding splash into the sea. Some of the men were groaning in pain; the Frenchmen were flat on their faces beseeching their saints; Dennis found himself in a heap by the break of the poop; for the moment Amos was not to be seen.
Dennis picked himself up and peered through the smoke to see whether the enemy had suffered any hurt. To his joy he saw that both the foremast and the mainmast of the galleon had been shattered. Turnpenny's shot had cut away the shrouds of the foremast, causing this to snap off, and struck the mainmast fair and square. The enemy's decks were smothered under a medley of spars and rigging; it was clear that the galleon was out of action, and already the Mirandola was rapidly drawing away. This her crew perceived, and the air was rent with a tremendous shout of triumph.
But their exultation was short-lived. Half a minute later Amos came up the hatchway and hurried aft.
"Sir, there be three terrible rents in the hull below water. I feared as much when I felt the shots strike the vessel. The galleon's masts must have fallen just as the knaves were a-firing, and so the most of her shots struck us low."
"Can we stop the leaks?"
"I fear, I fear! But we'll try."