he swiftly
executed boarding manoeuvre had caught them almost unawares in the
moment of confusion following the punishing broadside they had sustained
at such short range. For a moment there was a valiant effort by some
of Don Miguel's officers to rally the men for a stand against these
invaders. But the Spaniards, never at their best in close-quarter
fighting, were here demoralized by knowledge of the enemies with whom
they had to deal. Their hastily formed ranks were smashed before they
could be steadied; driven across the waist to the break of the poop
on the one side, and up to the forecastle bulkheads on the other, the
fighting resolved itself into a series of skirmishes between groups. And
whilst this was doing above, another horde of buccaneers swarmed through
the hatch to the main deck below to overpower the gun-crews at their
stations there.

On the quarter deck, towards which an overwhelming wave of buccaneers
was sweeping, led by a one-eyed giant, who was naked to the waist, stood
Don Miguel, numbed by despair and rage. Above and behind him on the
poop, Lord Julian and Miss Bishop looked on, his lordship aghast at the
fury of this cooped-up fighting, the lady's brave calm conquered at last
by horror so that she reeled there sick and faint.

Soon, however, the rage of that brief fight was spent. They saw the
banner of Castile come fluttering down from the masthead. A buccaneer
had slashed the halyard with his cutlass. The boarders were in
possession, and on the upper deck groups of disarmed Spaniards stood
huddled now like herded sheep.

Suddenly Miss Bishop recovered from her nausea, to lean forward staring
wild-eyed, whilst if possible her cheeks turned yet a deadlier hue than
they had been already.

Picking his way daintily through that shambles in the waist came a tall
man with a deeply tanned face that was shaded by a Spanish headpiece. He
was armed in back-and-breast of black steel beautifully damascened with
golden arabesques. Over this, like a stole, he wore a sling of scarlet
silk, from each end of which hung a silver-mounted pistol. Up the broad
companion to the quarter-deck he came, toying with easy assurance, until
he stood before the Spanish Admiral. Then he bowed stiff and formally.
A crisp, metallic voice, speaking perfect Spanish, reached those two
spectators on the poop, and increased the admiring wonder in which Lord
Julian had observed the man's approach.

"We meet again at last, Don M