nd suddenly overwhelmed with good
tidings--any of these will know what we felt.

"An English ship!" cried Pharaoh. "Thanks be to God--an English ship!"

And straightway there rose from the crowded benches on our deck a
strange and marvelous babble of sound. Some burst into tears of
thankfulness and relief, some howled like wild beasts because of their
chains, some cursed and blasphemed because there was small chance of the
English ship's folk knowing our condition. Others shouted and yelled for
help; the men sitting next the port-holes thrust forth their heads and
cried loudly across the waters, though the ship was yet a good mile
away. Every man betrayed his emotion and his misery in some way: here
they tugged at the chains which bound them, there they showed their
teeth at the Spaniards, snarling and snapping like dogs chained to a
staple in the wall. And then the overseers fell upon us once more, and
their great hide-whips descended mercilessly upon our shoulders, so that
we were forced to tug at the oars with redoubled force, and the galleon
shot forward again under a storm of yells and cries and loud groans.

"Yon is an English ship, as I live," said Pharaoh, as we tugged at our
oar. "And she will overhaul us. Pray God she does not slay a score of us
in this rat-trap by her first shot. If she only knew what we know.
Listen, master!"

Over the strip of sea that separated us came the dull, heavy roar of a
cannon-shot. They were firing at us in order to make the Spaniard
lay-to. But Captain Manuel Nunez had no intention of acceding to the
Englishman's wishes in that respect, and it was evident that he was
crowding on all sail, and making every possible effort to escape that
terrible ship which overhauled him hand over hand. On deck we heard the
Spaniards rushing hither and thither, the mates and boatswain shrieking
and yelling orders to the crew, the armorer and the soldiers making
ready the ordnance and small arms. Now and then we caught the voice of
Nunez, cool and collected as usual, but very fierce and determined; and
once the pale face of Frey Bartolomeo appeared, and we heard him
admonishing the overseers to lay on with their whips.

"We are like to be flayed alive if this goes on much longer," muttered
Pharaoh as the lash curled about his shoulders again. "Oh, if we were
but free and had some weapon in our hands! Lay on, ye murderous
villains, lay on! Your reign is well-nigh over. Master, hold up a while
l