see, at
the loss of his ship. He was dancing to and fro waiting while the poop
swung round on the tide; and the old craft plunged deeper in every wave
that lifted her, but he cared no more for that nor for the musket-balls
from the tops, nor for the brown grinning devils who shook their pikes at
him from the decks, than--than a mad dog cares for a shower of leaves;
but he stamped there and cursed them and damned them as they laughed at
him; and then in a moment the poop touched.

"Well, lads--" and the lieutenant set his cup down on the table, clapped
his hands on his knees, laughed shortly and nervously once or twice, and
looked round. "Well, lads, I have never seen the like. The captain went
for them like a wild cat; one step on the rail and the next among them;
and was gone like a stone into water"--and the lad clapped his hand on
his thigh. "I saw one face slit up from chin to eye; and another split
across like an apple; and then we were after him. The men were mad,
too--what was left of us; and we poured up on to the decks and left the
old _Seahorse_ to die. Well, we had our work before us--but it was no
good. The dons could do nothing; I was after the captain as he went
through the pack and came out just behind him; there were half a dozen of
them down now; and the noise and the foreign oaths went up like smoke;
and the captain himself was bleeding down one side of his face and
grunting as he cut and stabbed; and I had had a knife through the arm;
but he went up on to the poop; and as I followed, the Spaniards broke and
threw down their arms--they saw 'twas no use, you see. When we reached
the poop-stairs an officer in a blue coat came forward jabbering some
jargon; but the captain would have no parley with him, but flung his dag
clean into the man's face, and over he went backwards--with his damned
high heels in the air."

There was a sudden murmur of laughter from the room; Anthony glanced off
the lieutenant's grinning ruddy face for a moment, and saw the rows of
listening faces all wrinkled with mirth.

"Well," went on the lad, "up went the captain, and I after him. Then
there came across the deck, very slow and stately, the Spanish captain
himself, in a fine laced coat and a plumed hat, and he was holding out
his sword by the blade and bowed as we ran towards him, and began some
damned foreign nonsense, with his _Senor_--but the captain would have
none o' that, I tell you he was like Tom o' Bedlam now--so a