as
a mass of fire. Just then the brave Sir Richard Haddock received a shot
in the thigh. He fell, but again raised himself to his feet: "Lower the
boats, lads!" he shouted. "Ere a few minutes are over, no one will be
able to live on board our stout ship. Where is the earl?"

"He went to his cabin," answered some one.

"Christison, come with me; we must get him into a boat. I fear he is
wounded." Wenlock was obeying his commander, when just at that moment
he felt a severe pang, and was conscious that a missile of some sort had
passed through his side. In spite of his wound, however, he followed
the captain. The earl was seated at the table, with a handkerchief over
his eyes.

"My lord, a boat is in readiness, and we have come to conduct you to
it," said Sir Richard.

"No, friend, no," answered the earl. "I cannot brook some bitter words
spoken to me yesterday by the Duke of York. If my ship is to perish, I
will perish with her."

In vain Sir Richard and Wenlock tried to persuade the brave earl to
listen to reason. Already the crackling sounds of the flames were
heard, and wreaths of smoke came driving into the cabin. Then came a
terrific sound. Wenlock scarcely knew what had happened, when he found
himself plunged into the water. He was a strong swimmer, and struck out
for life. Near him was another man whose features, lighted up by the
flames from the burning ship, he recognised as those of Sir Richard
Haddock. He swam towards him.

"Leave me, Christison," he said; "I am desperately wounded, and cannot
survive this night. You too I saw were wounded, and will have enough to
do to save yourself."

"No, no, sir," answered Wenlock; "I see close to us a spar. It will
support us till some help arrives. I will tow you towards it if you
will float quietly."

Sir Richard did as he was advised, and in a short space of time Wenlock
had placed him on the spar. It was not, however, sufficient to support
both of them.

Another was seen at a little distance. Securing the captain to the
first, Wenlock swam to the other. He had wished to remain by his
captain, but by some means he perceived that they were gradually
receding from each other. In vain he shouted to the ships nearest to
him. The din of battle drowned his voice. First one tall ship, then
another, went down. The whole ocean around seemed covered with
fragments of wrecks and struggling men. Of the latter, one after the
other, however, su