A second gun boomed from the Spaniard and then a third; after that there was a pause, and then they were saluted by what sounded like the thunder of a whole broadside.
The Chevalier lowered his white and shaking wife, whose knees had suddenly turned to water, to a seat on the hatch–coaming. He was futilely profane in his distress.
From the rail Luzan, taking pity on them, and entirely unruffled, uttered what he believed to be reassurance.
'At present she is burning powder to no purpose. Mere Spanish bombast. She'll come within range before I fire a shot. My gunners have their orders.'
But, far from reassuring them, this was merely to increase the Chevalier's fury and distress.
'God of my life! Return her fire? You mustn't think of it. You can't deliver battle.'
'Can't I? You shall see.'
'But you cannot go into action with Madame de Saintonges on board.'
'You want to laugh,' said Luzan. 'If I had the Queen of France on board I must still fight my ship. And I have no choice, pray observe. We are being overhauled too fast to make harbour in time. And how do I know that we should be safe even then?'
The Chevalier stamped in rage.