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"You can scarce stand, lad, far less jump," said he. "See how
the blood rips from your bassinet."
"My place is by the flag," cried Alleyne, vainly struggling to
break from the other's hold.
"Bide here, man. You would need wings ere you could reach Sir
Nigel's side."
The vessels were indeed so far apart now that the Genoese could
use the full sweep of their oars, and draw away rapidly from the
cog.
"My God, but it is a noble fight!" shouted big John, clapping his
hands. "They have cleared the poop, and they spring into the
waist. Well struck, my lord! Well struck, Aylward! See to
Black Simon, how he storms among the shipmen! But this Spade-beard
is a gallant warrior. He rallies his men upon the forecastle.
He hath slain an archer. Ha! my lord is upon him. Look to it,
Alleyne! See to the whirl and glitter of it!"
"By heaven, Sir Nigel is down!" cried the squire.
"Up!" roared John. "It was but a feint. He bears him back. He
drives him to the side. Ah, by Our Lady, his sword is through
him! They cry for mercy.


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