Timothy knew his voice. It was that of young Roland Grenville.
"Nay, unhand me, Master Grenville," the lad cried, as well as the tightening fingers upon his throat would permit him. "I am Timothy Trollope, that went up to summon Jacob Whiddon. I—I—"
"S'death, lad, I had nearly throttled thee!" cried Grenville, releasing him, and then stooping and taking up Timothy's rapier, he added: "Here, take thy blade and hie thee down to the boats yonder at the water's edge. And, hark ye, if any Spaniard attempt to get aboard, run him through. Dost hear me? Run him through."
Scarcely had he spoken when the report of a pistol-shot from behind him rang through the air. It was Ambrose Pennington who had fired it at the retreating forms of the Spaniards, who, having crept along under the deep shadow of the cliff, had eluded their pursuers and were now hastening across the open beach down towards the water's edge.
"To the boats! to the boats, my lads!" cried Pennington, and he set off at a run, followed by Roland Grenville, Timothy, Richard Drake, and several of the men who had come out from Plymouth. At their heels ran Jacob Hartop, pistol in hand, and as game for a fight as any of them.
When the old man got down to the foreshore, where the outgoing tide was plashing upon the loose stones, he found himself in the midst of some thirty men, who were belabouring each other with their sticks and swords. It was difficult for him in the darkness to discover which were Spaniards and which men of Plymouth. But presently the crowd divided, one half remaining fighting, the others rushing knee-deep into the water and scrambling into one of the two boats that lay afloat within easy reach. Jacob Hartop levelled his pistol at one of the foremost of the fugitives and fired. Without waiting to see the effect of his shot, he turned to discover Captain Whiddon, Roland Grenville, and Timothy Trollope engaged all three in combat with seven of the Spaniards. Hartop saw that Timothy Trollope was being hard pressed by three of the enemy, who were assailing him with their heavy sticks. Only one of them was armed with a sword, and this one stood in front of Timothy, while his two companions were attacking the lad from the rear.
Jacob rushed headlong into the fray and speedily relieved Timothy of two of his assailants, who, seeing the old man's glittering rapier, and being themselves armed only with cudgels, turned upon their heels and fled towards the boats.
"TIMOTHY DISARMED THE FELLOW, AND WITH A FORWARD THRUST PIERCED HIM IN THE CHEST"