“Can it be that any on board are treacherous, and wish thus to gain our favour?” said Waymouth.
“More likely that they are cowards all, and think discretion the best part of valour,” observed Carlingford: “we shall soon learn, though.”
“Ay, that shall we,” answered Waymouth. “But, see, what flags are those? They look not as if the Portugal was in a humble mood.”
As he was speaking, several flags were hoisted to the mast-heads of the stranger, conspicuous among all being that of Portugal flying above the flag of England. The sight caused a general shout of indignation among the English crew, and doubled their desire to get alongside the foe. As they got still nearer, the Portugal once more let fall his sails and stood boldly towards them, letting fly a shot in defiance.
“Now this is what does the heart good,” exclaimed Waymouth in high glee. “Yonder is a brave fellow and a worthy foe. I had ten times rather meet such a one than the coward who runs away and then yields when he is caught without striking a blow. We shall take yonder gentleman—of that there is no doubt; and it will be a satisfaction to treat him as a brave man should be treated—with honour and distinction.”
“I would that we could avoid fighting,” said Master Walker. “Here are we both from Europe—two ships, the remnant, probably, of the proud fleets which left our native shores—and we must needs set to work to knock each other to pieces. What, prithee, is to be gained by it?”
“Honour, good Master Walker! honour, which we gentlemen of the sword sigh for and live for, not to speak of the golden doubloons and other articles of value with which these Portugals think fit to freight their ships,” answered Waymouth with a laugh which showed the cool if not light spirit with which he could enter into the deadly fight.
Nearer and nearer drew the two ships. The Portugal was the first to fire, and all his guns were aimed high, as if he was anxious to cripple his opponent. The reason was obvious. His decks were crowded with men, and he hoped by running on board the English ship to take her easily with his overwhelming numbers. Waymouth saw that his proper plan was to give the Portugals a wide berth and keep firing away till he had thinned those numbers, at the same time that it was very much against his usual system and inclination, as it was against that of his followers.
Now the guns of the Lion began to play vigorously, some of them being, according to the captain’s orders, fired high, and others low. Although now and then her spars and ropes were hit, she was inflicting equal injury on the rigging of her opponent, while such of her guns as were trained low were making fearful havoc among the people on the deck of the Portugal. She, in return, was employing every manoeuvre to close with the Lion, till it appeared as if the English were actually afraid of her.
“This must not last longer,” exclaimed Waymouth. “British steel has seldom failed, however great the odds. We’ll give the Portugals their way.”