while the wheel, escaping from his hands, spun over until the spokes
were all of a mist.

In a moment the ship would have fallen off before the wind had not our
hero, leaping to the wheel (even as Captain Morgan shouted an order for
some one to do so), seized the flying spokes, whirling them back again,
and so bringing the bow of the galleon up to its former course.

In the first moment of this effort he had reckoned of nothing but of
carrying out his captain's designs. He neither thought of cannon balls
nor of bullets. But now that his task was accomplished, he came suddenly
back to himself to find the galleries of the galley aflame with musket
shots, and to become aware with a most horrible sinking of the spirits
that all the shots therefrom were intended for him. He cast his eyes
about him with despair, but no one came to ease him of his task, which,
having undertaken, he had too much spirit to resign from carrying
through to the end, though he was well aware that the very next instant
might mean his sudden and violent death. His ears hummed and rang, and
his brain swam as light as a feather. I know not whether he breathed,
but he shut his eyes tight as though that might save him from the
bullets that were raining about him.

At this moment the Spaniards must have discovered for the first time the
pirates' design, for of a sudden they ceased firing, and began to shout
out a multitude of orders, while the oars lashed the water all about
with a foam. But it was too late then for them to escape, for within a
couple of seconds the galleon struck her enemy a blow so violent upon
the larboard quarter as nearly to hurl our Harry upon the deck, and then
with a dreadful, horrible crackling of wood, commingled with a yelling
of men's voices, the galley was swung around upon her side, and the