Sea-Dogs All!

  Chapter XIII.

  A DOUBLE FIGHT.

  The fierce, challenging shout from the river seemed to split the thickdarkness as a wedge might split a tree. For a few seconds only wasthere a following silence, in which the conspirators stood rooted inastonishment; then from the very hedge that fringed the river-path cameanother cry, "The Dragon and the Lion!" The veriest fool that hunground Father Jerome knew that these cries could be naught but answeringsignals. They were trapped. The rushing river lay before them, a lineof enemies stood behind, and the darkness was such that no man couldtell friend from foe at the distance of a dozen paces.

  The anchor of the _Luath_ dropped to the deck again with a dull clang.Hands went to the freeing of the sails, and the tiller swung round tobring the vessel out of the backwater beneath the cliff into the fullrun of the tideway.

  "Shoot!" ordered a rough voice (the admiral's) from the boat. A showerof arrows whistled over the heads of the group on land, and stuck,quivering, into ship or sailor. This sign of perfect agreement betweenthe forces at the rear and on the river decided some of the plotters.The admiral evidently had known all, and was prepared with a perfectcounterplot. The only chance of safety lay in flight--and they fled.

  But Father Jerome was not beaten. His weapon was out, and Basil's andJohn's followed immediately.

  "We fight for it, my sons," he cried. "The ship can hold her own andhelp us too; there are fifty bold fellows aboard her." His voice rangout clearly and resolutely, and the captain of the _Luath_ responded."'Tis but a boat-load to beat off," he said.

  But Francis Drake led the boat-load. Under cover of the darkness andthe flight of arrows from the bank he had brought his boat under thelee of the Irish vessel, and, closely followed by Johnnie Morgan, wasswarming up her side. A stirring shout of "Strike for the Queen, mylads!" told Raleigh that the admiral was aboard. The next moment SirWalter, Captain Dawe, and a dozen bold fellows from Newnham swarmedthrough the hedge and down the bank, and dashed upon Jerome and his men.

  "Cut them down, lads!" cried Raleigh. "Every one is a priest of Spainor a traitor; don't spare the vermin!"

  The din and clamour ashore and afloat--the cries, curses, clash ofweapons, and groans of the wounded--turned midnight and darkness intoan hour of pandemonium. The shore fight was short, for, though thethree chief conspirators and Windybank fought desperately enough, therank and file seemed more anxious to save their skins than do aughtelse. They dared not ask for quarter after Raleigh's order--'twasfight to the death, or fly. The men from Gloucester moved at once totheir horses, and some of them managed to spring into the saddle andget off in the darkness. The rough foresters were poorly armed and illprepared for fighting; for the most part those who stood were cut downlike sheep, and paid the full penalty of their treason. Basilendeavoured to single out Raleigh, and Father Jerome did the same; butone cloaked man is very like another at midnight, and there were tallfellows amongst the Newnham lads that could stand shoulder to shoulderwith the famous knight. Windybank hoped to get a thrust at Morgan; andnow that his blood was up, and he had resolved to sell his life dearly,he was chagrined to find no sign of the hated foe. He did not suspectthat Johnnie was with the admiral on the river.

  Meanwhile there was a fiercer struggle on the _Luath_. The crew andthe men stowed in hiding beneath the hatches were either Irish orSpanish, all friends of the Pope and King Philip, and inveterate foesof England's Queen and faith. Moreover, they were well armed and couldfight stoutly. The ship's decks were soon slippery with blood andcumbered with dead and wounded. Twice the admiral was beaten back tothe bulwarks and almost over the side. His force was hardly greatenough for the task that confronted it; indeed, the astute seaman had,for once, underestimated both the numbers and the courage of his foe.He cheered his little company with voice and example.

  "Foot to foot with me, lads!" he cried. "The honour of England is atstake. Shall Dons and Irish beat us on our own rivers? Well thrust,Master Morgan! Now, a rush together, boys! Ha! they give; the dogsgive!"

  So, under the pall of night on the swirling waters, the fight went on.Now the gallant captain of the _Luath_ was exultant, the next momentthe admiral had the advantage; backwards and forwards swung the balanceof conflict. A loud "hurrah!" from the shore, a great shout of"victory," cries of "Drive them into the river!" showed how matters hadgone between Raleigh and Father Jerome. The news heartened the admiraland demoralized the conspirators on the ship. The vessel itself,rocking to and fro, refusing to obey the helmsman, lurched from thequiet backwater into the swirl of the racing current. She swung halfround, pitched and rolled dangerously, and then went up-stream like adrunken thing, swaying, turning, threatening to rush for cliff orsandbank, and endangering the life of every soul on board. The valiantskipper saw and felt the imminent peril, and, sailor-like, spranghimself to the helm and headed the staunch little ship along the safechannel. Then he gave her over to the helmsman again with somewhispered instructions, and sprang back into the fight that had notslackened because of the chances of shipwreck. But the sense ofdoubled danger soon told its tale. The Spanish allies, strangers tothe river, lost their heads, unnerved by the blackness of the night andthe apparently ungoverned course along the tide. Raleigh and hisvictorious men were running along the bank and cheering the admiral.The captain of the _Luath_ took a desperate chance. He blew a call ona whistle that hung on his neck. It was a signal to the helmsman, whoturned the nose of the ship across stream to the eastern shore.Diagonally the vessel steered to destruction; she just cleared thesand-ridge in the centre of the river, and then went crash into thebank.

  "Save yourselves," cried the skipper, and those of his men who couldjumped into the waters and struggled to land. "I fight to the last,"cried the gallant Irishman, when those who cared to run for life hadhad their chance; and the braver ones amongst his men came in a ringabout him, and fought on until struck down. Drake offered themquarter, but they proudly refused it. "No rope for my neck!" cried thecaptain; and his men cheered his resolve, and died fighting beside him.