But
the anchor still held them in its crooked claw, and Sir Oliver
with fifty men was hard upon their heels. Now, too, the archers
had room to draw their bows once more, and great stones from the
yard of the cog came thundering and crashing among the flying
rovers. Here and there they rushed with wild screams and curses,
diving under the sail, crouching behind booms, huddling into
corners like rabbits when the ferrets are upon them, as helpless
and as hopeless. They were stern days, and if the honest
soldier, too poor for a ransom, had no prospect of mercy upon the
battle-field, what ruth was there for sea robbers, the enemies of
humankind, taken in the very deed, with proofs of their crimes
still swinging upon their yard-arm.
But the fight had taken a new and a strange turn upon the other
side. Spade-beard and his men had given slowly back, hard
pressed by Sir Nigel, Aylward, Black Simon, and the poop-guard.
Foot by foot the Italian had retreated, his armor running blood
at every joint, his shield split, his crest shorn, his voice
fallen away to a mere gasping and croaking.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333