"Hell's fury! sayst thou so?" cried the chaplain, losing all patience, as another of King Henry's pills came crashing through the timbers, killing and wounding all in its way.
"Oho! may I drink bilge but a friar can swear as well as a poor gunner, though it is forbidden," said Willie Wad, as he hoisted up case after case of shot; but the unhappy chaplain, rendered furious by the destruction of his lifelong labours, flung off his frock, under which he wore a jazarine jacket, seized a sword, and rushed on deck intent on vengeance.
The Yellow Frigate and the Unicorn were now less than a musket shot apart, when Sir Andrew blew his silver whistle; and then the former poured her broadside of "pestilent" carthouns, sakers, and serpentines, into the latter, exchanging fire with her on opposite tacks, while the arquebussiers and crossbowmen aloft and below volleyed at each other as fast as they could cast their weapons about.
"By the soul of King James, that broadside will cost ye a few bolts of canvas, my friends!" said Wood, with a smile; and bearing on, by his great seamanship he continued to keep the weather-gage of Bull; while Sir Alexander Mathieson, with the Flower, followed close in his wake, they each exchanged broadsides with the three English ships, whose triple fire cut up their rigging, battered their gay bulwarks, and wounded a vast number of their men; but few were killed, though all the scuppers ran with blood and water.
These brave adversaries foresaw not the days that were to come, when "Duncan, Nelson, Keppel, Howe, and Jervis," under a united flag, would lead their descendants side by side to sweep Scotland's ancient ally from the ocean.
"Tack," cried the admiral to Barton, again, as the cannon were charged for the fourth time; "tack again, and range up on the weather quarter of the sternmost ship."
By this manoeuvre he almost blew to pieces the poop of Miles Furnival's caravel; he then gave the order to "close in and grapple."
"A narrow escape, David," said Barton, as an English bullet tore the crest off Falconer's headpiece.
"A little lower, and it would have ended all my cares to-day," replied Sir David, with a sad smile; "and believe me, Barton, I would rather die here than land to-morrow, and learn that Sybilla has become the countess of the high-admiral."
The five vessels now simultaneously shortened sail, and, according to the tactics of the day, grappled with each other; and there was a frightful rasping as they closed-in muzzle to muzzle with their yard-arms tearing each other's canvas to rags and ribbons.