"For that reason I commiserate his fate the more," said Howard, who was no doubt thinking of Lady Margaret Drummond.
"Tush! display the signal to clear away for battle, and hoist the French ancient, for I have no doubt these are the ships of him we are in search of. If they were not, our defunct fisherman would soon have said so."
"God will not bless the course we thus begin," said Howard; "and if yonder ships are indeed those of Sir Andrew Wood, the weepers of Saint John, by London Wall, will be singing dirges for some of us ere long."
"I care little whether or not God blesses it, if Henry our king is pleased," said Sir Stephen, with a glance of pride and anger; "but peace with this croaking, Sir Captain of mine—'tis a new thing in thee. To your arms and to your quarters, fore and aft—sound trumpets, and load culverins and arquebusses! Dick Selby, open the magazine; John o'Lynne, see the fire's out; beat to quarters, and get abroach three runlets of canary. Fight to the death, my merry men all, for if you fall into the hands of the Scots they will chain you to work on their castles and highways, and feed you worse than Charterhouse monks—so every man to quarters, and St. George for Merry England!"
CHAPTER LXIV.
THE BATTLE OFF FIFENESS.
"Were ye twentye shippes, and he but one,
I swear by kirke, and bower, and hall,
He wolde overcome them everye one,
If once his beames they doe downefall.
This is colde comfort, quoth my lorde,
To welcome a stranger thus to sea;
But I'll bring him and his ships to shore;
Or to Scotland he shall carry me."—SIR ANDREW BARTON
After nearly bringing to a successful issue his diplomatic mission concerning the quarrel between the Scottish, Dutch, and Flemish merchants,—though the latter remembered bitterly the various barrels of pickled heads despatched by the unquhile Sir Andrew Barton to the Privy Council of James III.,—Sir Andrew Wood had left the port of Sluys, or Sluice, which is one of the best harbours and strongest frontier towns in Dutch Flanders, and from the Bailiff and Echevins of which he received a gold cup and silken banner. Sailing with a fair wind, he soon lost sight of the low flat shores of Batavia, and bore away for the Firth of Forth.
The voyage across the northern ocean was rough, and more than once his Scottish caravels rolled their lower yard-arms in the water; but their trip of five hundred miles was drawing to a close, and on the morning mentioned in the preceding chapter, the crews of the Flower and Yellow Frigate hailed with satisfaction the black rugged scalp of St. Abb, as it rose above the summer sea.
The Flower was commanded by Sir Alexander Mathieson, "the Auld King o' the Sea," whose former ship, the Margaret, had been given by the young king to John, the younger brother of Robert Barton. John was also a brave mariner, and well known in Scottish history.