if in defiance exploded upright into the air, hurling the ball to the
very heavens.

In an instant it was answered from the _Rose_ by a column of smoke, and
the eighteen-pound ball crashed through the bottom of the defenseless
Spaniard.

"Who fired! Shame to fire on a sinking ship!"

"Gunner Yeo, sir," shouted a voice from the maindeck. "He's like a
madman down here."

"Tell him if he fires again, I'll put him in irons, if he were my own
brother. Cut away the grapples aloft, men. Don't you see how she
drags us over? Cut away, or we shall sink with her."

They cut away, and the _Rose_, released from the strain, shook her
feathers on the wave-crest like a freed sea-gull, while all men held
their breaths.

Suddenly the glorious creature righted herself, and rose again, as if
in noble shame, for one last struggle with her doom. Her bows were
deep in the water, but her after-deck still dry. Righted: but only for
a moment, long enough to let her crew come pouring wildly up on deck,
with cries and prayers, and rush aft to the poop, where, under the flag
of Spain, stood the tall captain, his left hand on the standard-staff,
his sword pointed in his right.

"Back men!" they heard him cry, "and die like valiant mariners."