had been calm and the sea tranquil, there seemed something brooding in
the atmosphere.

As the twilight deepened, the moon became totally obscured, dark cloud-
masses spread over the heavens, the sea grew black, distant thunder
rolled, and the sob of an approaching tempest became distinctly audible.
Such indications of a westerly gale, were not encouraging to those
cumbrous vessels, with the treacherous quicksands of Flanders under their
lee.

At an hour past midnight, it was so dark that it was difficult for the
most practiced eye to pierce far into the gloom. But a faint drip of
oars now struck the ears of the Spaniards as they watched from the decks.
A few moments afterwards the sea became, suddenly luminous, and six
flaming vessels appeared at a slight distance, bearing steadily down upon
them before the wind and tide.

There were men in the Armada who had been at the siege of Antwerp only
three years before. They remembered with horror the devil-ships of
Gianibelli, those floating volcanoes, which had seemed to rend earth and
ocean, whose explosion had laid so many thousands of soldiers dead at a
blow, and which had shattered the bridge and floating forts of Farnese,
as though they had been toys of glass. They knew, too, that the famous
engineer was at that moment in England.

In a moment one of those horrible panics, which spread with such
contagious rapidity among large bodies of men, seized upon the Spaniards.
There was a yell throughout the fleet--"the fire-ships of Antwerp, the
fire-ships of Antwerp!" and in an instant every cable was cut, and
frantic attempts were made by each galleon and galeasse to escape what