shrieked amid the foam, and rushed upward at the Spaniard. It was
Michael Heard. The Don, who stood above him, plunged his sword into
the old man's body: but the hatchet gleamed, nevertheless: down went
the blade through the headpiece and through head; and as Heard sprang
onward, bleeding, but alive, the steel-clad corpse rattled down the
deck into the surge. Two more strokes, struck with the fury of a dying
man, and the standard-staff was hewn through. Old Michael collected
all his strength, hurled the flag far from the sinking ship, and then
stood erect one moment and shouted, "God save Queen Bess!" and the
English answered with a "Hurrah!" which rent the welkin.

Another moment and the gulf had swallowed his victim, and the poop, and
him; and nothing remained of the _Madre Dolorosa_ but a few floating
spars and struggling wretches, while a great awe fell upon all men, and
a solemn silence, broken only by the cry

"Of some strong swimmer in his agony."


And then, suddenly collecting themselves, as men awakened from a dream,
half-a-dozen desperate gallants, reckless of sharks and eddies, leaped
overboard, swam towards the flag, and towed it alongside in triumph.

"Ah!" said Salvation Yeo, as he helped the trophy up over the side;
"ah! it was not for nothing that we found poor Michael! He was always
a good comrade. And now, then, my masters, shall we inshore again and
burn La Guayra?"

"Art thou never glutted with Spanish blood, thou old wolf?" asked Will
Cary.