The watchman on the bows of the galleon hailed us, and though his voice sounded clearly to us, we pretended not to hear; he called again through the quiet of the night, and when we returned no answer we could see that he ran with a sort of terror of he knew not what from his place, and was lost in the darkness of the forecastle.
In the meantime we had come close up to her, her sailors bending blanched, fear-stricken faces over her bulwarks upon us, and perhaps thinking that they saw before them the fabulous Ship of Death, upon which for ever sail the souls of those foully murdered on the sea, and which for the nonce had taken on the form of the Capitana to lure them to their doom, for never might human eyes behold that dreaded sight and live.
The two ships were now so near each other that it required but a touch of the helm and the quick ringing word of command from Grace O’Malley—the statues sprang to life, and a host of the O’Malleys jumped on board the galleon at different points.
It was all the work of a twinkling, so soon was the ship carried. The watch on deck were overpowered and made prisoners with scarcely a blow being struck. Tibbot crept through a window in the poop of the Spaniard, and, followed by a dozen of the Irish, had secured those who were asleep or half-awakened before they could make any resistance. In the forecastle alone was there any struggle, for there a handful of men stood to their weapons, and, refusing quarter, fought on till everyone of them was slain.
I had watched with straining eyes through the gloom for the form of that young Spanish knight who was my mistress, and, not seeing it anywhere, was in sore dismay; not many minutes, however, went by—the action had moved with the speed with which things change in a dream—when she appeared on the poop, as I thought.
Nor was I mistaken, for she called to me to trim the Capitana and to wear down upon the other galleon, which had changed her course, and was striving to make off southwards for the open sea. Her watch had given the alarm, and we could see the dark bodies of her crew and of her fighting men making to their posts.
Sending back to me some of our Irish for the better working of the Capitana, she caused the newly-captured vessel to be released from the grapplings and fastenings, by which I had had her bound to us while the attack was going on, and we swung apart. Crowding on sail in hot haste, we put about, and went in pursuit of the fleeing galleon, which not only had the start of us, but now also appeared to be a better sailer than either of us, as we did not gain on her, but, on the contrary, rather fell back.
It was apparent that she would escape us if we were to trust to our sailing powers alone. I had just determined to train one of the cannon on board the Capitana on to her, when a loud explosion shook the air.
Of what had occurred, then and afterwards on the Santa Ana, as the ship Grace O’Malley had just taken was named, I was not a witness, nor was Tibbot, who told me of it, either; but it is narrated here just as I heard it.