and surely he will
hide it in the hollow of his hand and in the shadow of his wing. God of
battles, hear us! God of England, God of America, aid the children of
the one, the saviors of the other!"

He had dropped the pike to raise his clasped hands to the blue heavens,
but now he lifted it again, threw back his shoulders, and flung up his
head. He laid his hand on the flagstaff, and looked up to the banner
streaming in the breeze. "It looks well so high against the blue, does
n't it, friends?" he cried genially. "Suppose we keep it there forever
and a day!"

A cheer arose, so loud that it silenced, if it did not convince, the
craven few. As for Master Edward Sharpless, he disappeared behind the
line of women.

The great ship came steadily on, her white sails growing larger and
larger, moment by moment, her tiers of guns more distinct and menacing,
her whole aspect more defiant. Her waist seemed packed with men. But no
streamers, no flag.

A puff of smoke floated up from the deck of the Tiger, and a ball from
one of her two tiny falcons passed through the stranger's rigging. A
cheer for the brave little cockboat arose from the English. "David
and his pebble!" exclaimed Master Jeremy Sparrow. "Now for Goliath's
twenty-pounders!"

But no flame and thunder issued from the guns aboard the stranger.
Instead, from her deck there came to us what sounded mightily like
a roar of laughter. Suddenly, from each masthead and yard shot out
streamers of red and blue, up from the poop rose and flaunted in the
wind the crosses of St. George and St. Andrew, and with a crash trumpet,
drum, and fife rushed into

"Here's to jolly good ale and old!"

"By the Lord, she's English!" shouted the Governor.

On she came, banners flying, music playing, and inextinguishable
laughter rising from her decks. The Tiger, the Truelove, and the Due
Return sent no more hailstones against her; they turned and resolved
themselves into her consort. The watch, a grim old sea dog that had
come in with Dale, swung himself down from his post, and came toward
the Governor at a run. "I know her now, sir!" he shouted. "I was at the
winning of Cales, and she's the Santa Teresa, that we took and sent home
to the Queen. She was Spanish once, sir, but she's English now."

The gates were flung open, and the excited people poured out again
upon the river bank. I found myself beside the Governor, whose honest
countenance wore an expression of profound bewil