Cinco Llagas out of Cadiz. The vessel was bearing down upon them,
her mountains of snowy canvas bellying forward, the long pennon with
the cross of St. George fluttering from her main truck in the morning
breeze, the gilded portholes in her red hull and the gilded beak-head
aflash in the morning sun.

Miss Bishop was not to recognize this for that same Cinco Llagas which
she had seen once before--on a tragic day in Barbados three years
ago. To her it was just a great ship that was heading resolutely,
majestically, towards them, and an Englishman to judge by the pennon
she was flying. The sight thrilled her curiously; it awoke in her an
uplifting sense of pride that took no account of the danger to herself
in the encounter that must now be inevitable.

Beside her on the poop, whither they had climbed to obtain a better
view, and equally arrested and at gaze, stood Lord Julian. But he shared
none of her exultation. He had been in his first sea-fight yesterday,
and he felt that the experience would suffice him for a very
considerable time. This, I insist, is no reflection upon his courage.

"Look," said Miss Bishop, pointing; and to his infinite amazement he
observed that her eyes were sparkling. Did she realize, he wondered,
what was afoot? Her next sentence resolved his doubt. "She is English,
and she comes resolutely on. She means to fight."

"God help her, then," said his lordship gloomily. "Her captain must be
mad. What can he hope to do against two such heavy hulks as these? If
they could so easily blow the Royal Mary out of the water, what will
they do to this vessel? Look at that devil Don Miguel. He's utterly
disgusting in his glee."

From the quarter-deck, where he moved amid the frenzy of preparation,
the Admiral had turned to flash a backward glance at his prisoners. His
eyes were alight, his face transfigured. He flung out an arm to point
to the advancing ship, and bawled something in Spanish that was lost to
them in the noise of the labouring crew.

They advanced to the poop-rail, and watched the bustle. Telescope in
hand on the quarter-deck, Don Miguel was issuing his orders. Already the
gunners were kindling their matches; sailors were aloft, taking in sail;
others were spreading a stout rope net above the waist, as a protection
against falling spars. And meanwhile Don Miguel had been signalling to
his consort, in response to which the Hidalga had drawn steadily
forward until she was now abeam of the