She had a glimpse of the wickedly grinning face of Don Miguel, and the grinning faces of the men at the guns in the waist.
At last the Arabella was right between the Spanish ships prow to poop and poop to prow.

Don Miguel spoke to the trumpeter, who had mounted the quarter-deck and stood now at the Admiral's elbow.

The man raised the silver bugle that was to give the signal for the broadsides of both ships.

But even as he placed it to his lips, the Admiral seized his arm, to arrest him.

Only then had he perceived what was so obvious--or should have been to an experienced sea-fighter: he had delayed too long and Captain Blood had outmanoeuvred him.