Hildebrand Clifford had not (to borrow the nautical phrase of his lieutenant) “hove-to” above three hours, on the occasion described in a former chapter, before he was called to the deck again. On repairing thither, he found his lieutenant, Halyard, had been up for some time, and was waiting his approach at the after-hatchway.

“A strange sail seen from the masthead, Sir,” he said, as Hildebrand made his appearance.

“What like is she?” asked Hildebrand.

“A large vessel, Sir,” answered Halyard. “One of the Dons, no doubt!”

“She must be a marvellous heavy sailer, then,” rejoined Hildebrand, “to be so far leeward of the fleet, which I see is now out of sight. Are we bearing towards her?”

“Right ahead, captain,” replied Halyard.

“I will go have a look for her,” said Hildebrand.

Accordingly, he broke away from Master Halyard, and, with a quick but steady step, passed towards the forecastle. A crowd of seamen, some score in number, were gathered in the bows, looking ahead; but they fell back directly he appeared, and thus opened to him a view of the remote horizon.

“Can ye see her from here, my lads?” he asked.

“Ay, Sir!” answered a half-dozen of voices:—“right ahead, Sir!”

Hildebrand, thus instructed, raised his hand over his eyes, and gazed in the direction specified with all his might. After a brief survey, he discerned a small slim object, like the trunk of a tree, on the edge of the horizon, which he readily recognised as the masts of a ship. On bringing it into view, he turned away from the forecastle, and stepped back to the quarter-deck.

“Thou mayst see her from the deck, now,” he said to Master Halyard, on coming up with that person. “Howbeit, I will even overhaul her from the mast-head.”

Without more words, he mounted into the shrouds, and proceeded, as on a previous occasion, to pass up aloft. He did not pause on his way, but ascended right up, over the topmast, and the top-gallant mast; and only stopped when he had gained the mast-head.

He remained in his elevated position for several minutes, and, as it seemed from the deck, gazed intently for’ard the whole time. At last, his curiosity appeared to be satisfied; and, step by step (yet not over-carefully), he descended to the deck again.

Master Halyard waited his return with some impatience.

“What cheer, Sir?” he inquired, as Hildebrand set his foot on the deck.

“A large galleon, Sir, big enough to eat us,” answered Hildebrand. “By my troth, she will have a store of doubloons aboard!”

Master Halyard involuntarily thrust his hands into his pockets; and, quite forgetful of his situation, began to hum a song.

“An’ she be well in the wake of the fleet,” observed Hildebrand, after a moment’s reflection, “methinks we might even venture it.”

“Let me perish else,” answered Halyard, whom the result of his search in his pockets, now that an attack on the galleon appeared uncertain, rendered desperate. “Hang me up, an’ I would not venture it in an old hen-coop.”

“We will see to ’t, then,” rejoined Hildebrand. “Let all the spare hands turn in, and take an hour’s rest. We will be up with her by ten o’clock!”

Reassured by a prospect so promising, Master Halyard thrust his hands into his pockets again; and hastened, in compliance with Hildebrand’s instructions, to order all the men that were not required for the navigation of the ship to take an hour’s rest. Having seen his order obeyed, he returned to the quarter-deck; and there, with becoming gravity, but not with any dread or apprehension of the result, arranged with Hildebrand how they could best realize their project of attacking the supposed galleon.

Meantime, the ship, favoured by the wind, made good way ahead, and bid fair to fulfil her commander’s expectations. As the time slipped by, the galleon became more distinct, and her hull, which hitherto had been invisible, or only distinguishable from the mast-head, was apparent from the forecastle by the evening. It was, however, far from being viewed by our friends with satisfaction; for the hull of the galleon could not be visible to them, unless their ship, and its hostile bearings, which were indicated by its course, were visible to her. On discovering these particulars, she might alter her course; and so, under cover of the night, escape them altogether. But though Hildebrand thought such a result was not unlikely, he determined, after deliberate reflection, to bear down on her still, and pursue the course he had entered on without deviation.

The issue justified his mode of proceeding. About three hours after nightfall, which (for it was now winter) was near the time that he had predicted, the look-out man in the weather-bow gave the anxiously-expected alarm.

“A large ship ahead, Sir!” he cried to Hildebrand, who, together with Halyard, was still pacing the quarter-deck.

The announcement drew a low buzz from the crew, who, though many of them were yet at liberty to remain below, had all assembled on the deck of their own accord; and a general rush, sounding like the roar of a cataract, was made to the forecastle. Loud as the noise was, however, the voice of Hildebrand, raised to its highest tone, was heard above it.

“Silence there! fore and aft!” he cried.

All was still in a moment—so entirely and distinctly still, that one would have thought it impossible, on observing their profound silence, that the crowd of men around could be living creatures, much less that they were on the eve of a fierce and deadly struggle.

Hildebrand paused till his order was obeyed, when he resumed.—

“Pass the word for the drummer!” he cried.

While his command was being fulfilled, he quitted the quarter-deck, and ascended to the forecastle. Then, looking right ahead, he distinguished the galleon, scarcely a gun-shot in his front, and on the point of veering to windward. From the purposed change in her course, he was satisfied that, like him, she had suddenly become aware of the proximity of an enemy, and was seeking to avoid him. All prospect of surprise, therefore, was at an end, and he returned to the quarter-deck with the determination of steering straight alongside of her.

On the quarter-deck, by the side of the capstan, he found Halyard and the drummer.

“Beat to quarters!” he said, to the latter.

The drummer obeyed; and while his spirit-stirring summons rolled through the ship, Hildebrand laid his hand on Halyard’s arm, and drew him aside.

“Man the three boats,” he said. “I will run straight for the galleon, and, as we come alongside, drop you all astern. When I think ye are fairly on your way, I will give the enemy a broadside, and, in the confusion, do you board her, all with one mind, on her nearer quarter. I will thereafter lend thee what succour I can.”

“A right noble project!” observed Halyard, feeling his pockets with both his hands. “How many men shall I muster, Sir?”

“Forty!” answered Hildebrand, “which, as thou knowest, is half the crew. Now,” he added, in a deeper tone, as he grasped Halyard by the hand, “give thee farewell!”

Halyard did not reply on the instant. His pause, however—only that the crisis rendered the briefest pause perceptible—was hardly apparent, albeit, when he did speak, his voice was somewhat shaken.

“Farewell, noble captain!” he said. “Life is but short; let us live well on the road, says the gentle Shepherd of Salisbury Plain.”

During the short interval that the commander and his lieutenant thus conversed, the drummer had beaten his summons, which was to lead so many to a bloody end, with unabated assiduity. Short as the interval was—and it embraced but a few minutes—it sufficed to assemble on the deck the whole of the crew, and to cover every arrangement for entering into action. Each man’s bed, tied up taught in his hammock like a sack, was placed in the hammock-nettings, along the top of the ship’s bulwarks; the decks were cleared of all lumber; the guns were all manned; and the powder, with the portfires, sponges, and other implements for charging them, handed up the hatchways. Every man was armed; the flag of Old England was hoisted in the mizen; and nothing remained, for the furtherance and completion of the design they had in hand, but to come up with the enemy.

In this state of things, Hildebrand struck off the men who, according to his previous arrangement, were to accompany Halyard, and ordered them to the boats. There, by his directions, they were all supplied with boarding-pikes, in addition to their cutlasses and pistols; and, though it was not quite likely that it would be required, an extra allowance of ammunition. The other men were ordered to their respective quarters of the ship.

So promptly had all these arrangements been conceived, determined on, and executed, that, from the first alarm of the galleon being in sight, as given by the look-out man for’ard, up to the moment at which every preparation was completed, scarcely five brief minutes had elapsed. In the interim, the ship, with the wind still aft, advanced steadily towards the galleon, a little to leeward of her bows, and drew close upon her. Hildebrand, standing at the helm, whence he could command a view ahead, observed that she had prepared to receive him, and would probably meet him with a broadside. Expecting no less, he ordered the sails to be hauled up; and passed the word to the gunners, who were all posted at their several guns, to count ten before they answered the salute, which would cover the auxiliary attack of Halyard and the boarders. His orders had scarcely been delivered, when the ship, floating on the waves, came alongside of the enemy.

Scarcely a breath was exhaled on board the “Eliza” as she thus breasted the galleon. The terrible pause, however, was but momentary. As she came fairly alongside, looking like a little pleasure-boat in comparison with her huge adversary, the latter, conformably to Hildebrand’s expectations, poured into her her whole broadside. But the shot did little damage, and that, as it turned out, only to the ship’s hull—the crew having sheltered themselves behind the bulwarks. Hildebrand alone had maintained his exposed position, and now, free from injury, looked anxiously round. The ship was enveloped in smoke; but sternwards, whither his glance first turned, the prospect was clearer; and he perceived that the boats had departed. He could distinguish nothing for’ard; but, with the aid of a speaking-trumpet, he could reach the crew with his voice, and he delivered his orders without hesitation.

“For’ard there!” he cried. “Grapple on to the enemy’s stern; and prepare to board!”

As the order fell from his lips, the deck below him, conformably to his previous order, opened its fire, and poured a broadside into the enemy. The report was yet booming over the water, when a loud “hurrah” broke on the ear, and afforded a cheering assurance that the boats under Halyard had arrived at their destination.

Covered by the smoke of the galleon’s fire, Halyard had advanced towards her near quarter, according to his instructions, without being observed; and, protected by the fire of his own ship, gained it unscathed. The broadside of the “Eliza” had caused a momentary confusion among the enemy, and, at this auspicious juncture, he pulled alongside, and led the way up her bulwarks. The crew on the lower-decks, at the several port-holes, observed him instantly, but, taken by surprise, their opposition did not impede him; and the disorder on the upper deck, where he was not yet visible, prevented it from spreading further. Before the alarm became general, he and his men had gained the hammock-nettings; and there, with a loud hurrah, prepared to make their way on the deck.

It was a terrible moment. Amidst the volumes of smoke which still rolled about, the stout little band, glancing quickly round, discerned hosts of grim adversaries, all armed to the teeth, and crowding towards them with the most fixed determination. But after the one rapid glance mentioned, they hardly paused to draw a breath. Led on by Halyard, they sprang on the deck, and pressed forward in a mass. The charge was resistless; and the long boarding-pikes, propelled at double quick time, and with the whole force of each individual, swept over the quarter-deck like an avalanche. Nevertheless, the success, though so decided, lasted only a moment. As their small force became apparent, the Spaniards took courage; and joining together, under the guidance of one of their officers, pressed upon them bodily, front and rear. The English were forced together again in an instant. Falling into two ranks, they backed to each other, and thus, by a ready evolution, fronted the enemy either way. But the force opposed to them was overpowering. No sooner had each file, pressing resolutely forward, cleared the deck in their front, than the Spaniards rushed in between them, and renewed the struggle. The two files were now divided, and when, in obedience to a shout from Halyard, they sought to join again, the Spaniards pressed down behind them, and attacked them both in front and rear. It soon became evident that they could not hold out much longer. Their ranks began to be thinned, and there was hardly one of them, not excepting Halyard, but had received some hurt. They still bore up, but, compared with their first assault, their efforts were feeble, and were rather the result of desperation, or a wild and reckless animosity, than genuine courage. They fought singly, too—back to back; and seemed more desirous to die hard, and, in their fall, to destroy as many of the enemy as they could, than to look for conquest. While all their energies were thus required for their defence, the Spanish commander had mustered a strong force, composed of the flower of his crew, to rush upon them simultaneously, and so overwhelm them at a blow. The overpowering reinforcement was already in motion, and the fate of the heroic Englishmen, after all their efforts, and their noble and glorious resistance, appeared to be now decided, when a loud hurrah broke from the stern of the ship.

“Hurrah!” responded Master Halyard; and each of his comrades caught up the cheer.

The help that was approaching might well tend to reanimate them. As the English ship approached the galleon’s poop, the helmsman, under Hildebrand’s direction, ran her bowsprit against that vessel’s stern, and, pursuant to the orders they had received, the sailors instantly fastened on to her with the grappling-irons. Hildebrand joined them the next moment, and, led on by him, they sprang on to her poop. The resistance they encountered was terrible, but, though they scarcely numbered thirty, they swept onward undaunted, driving all before them. As they became masters of the poop, a panic fell on the Spaniards, and they fled for’ard, past the little band of Halyard, without a struggle. When they pushed by that weakened body, they forced on with them, in one confused mass, those of the enemy with whom they were contending, and so left Halyard at liberty. He had hardly time to recover his breath, however, when he was joined by Hildebrand.

“Now, then, my lads!” cried that person: “on them all at once! Now! Hurrah!”

“Hurrah!” answered his men.

But the Spaniards, now utterly disheartened, did not tarry for the charge. As the tall form of Hildebrand was seen to spring forward, they pressed back, and made a rush for the fore-hatchway. Hildebrand loitered as he discerned their object, and, checking the impetuosity of his men, only gave the Spaniards an impulse forward, without inflicting on them any hurt. Assured by his forbearance, some of the rearmost Spaniards, after a brief interval, turned round to him, and offered him their arms. Hildebrand ordered them to throw them down, and, when they had obeyed his injunctions, passed them behind him, and there placed them under guard. He had scarcely seen them secured, when, following their example, the remainder of the galleon’s crew surrendered, and he was now the undisputed master of the ship.

The Spaniards having thrown down their arms, the only care of the conqueror, in securing his victory, was to provide them a prison. The ready mind of Hildebrand quickly decided where they could be best placed under restraint. After a moment’s pause, he ordered them to be passed down the main-hatchway; and the hatch, which was of stout oak, and, consequently, could not be easily forced up, to be well secured above them. When his directions were fulfilled, he posted a sentry over the hatchway, and felt that his conquest was now secure.