But Ludar and I were clumsy with the tackle, not being seamen born; and on that account a trouble arose.

For the fellow who overlooked our work chose not only to swear at us by all the saints in the Spaniards' calendar (to which he was welcome), but he pulled out a whip from under his coat and gave Ludar a crack with it, which laid open his cheek-bone, and well- nigh sent him backwards by the board.
Whereupon Ludar, seizing the whip with one hand and the fellow with the other, gave him such a lashing, as the wretch, may be, wished he could give to any man himself; and when he had done that, he threw the whip overboard.

But the fellow's howls and yells (for he had a great voice), soon brought a parcel of his mates around him, who, seeing him wallowing on the ground and pointing at Ludar and me, asked no questions, but set on us, with oaths and Spanish cries of "English curs!" So we too had a pretty time of it, and, but that we got our backs against a bulk-head and had our splicing tackle in our hands, we might have seen no more of that great sea-battle.

We fought for our lives for five minutes or so, and then, so great became the uproar, that up came some of the soldiers and an officer, who, seeing two men set upon by twenty, ordered every man to stand.
The officer, as fortune would have it, was our old acquaintance Captain Desmond, who demanded what the noise was all about.
Whereupon the fellow whom Ludar had flogged hobbled up in a white heat, and proclaimed his wrongs to heaven and earth, accusing us of being on the _Rata_ for treasonable purposes, and vowing, even, he had heard us plot to get at the powder and blow up the ship.
Before we could say a word up came a messenger from the Don himself, who, on hearing the story, ordered us to accompany him forthwith to his Excellency.
I could not help observing, as we marched abaft, the gloom which seemed to have fallen on the ship.

Not that the gay young lordlings did not still swagger and laugh; but it seemed to me their mirth was more hollow than it had been, and, when now and again a sullen shot out of the darkness behind whizzed through the rigging or rattled on the hull, they ground their teeth angrily and swore in their grand Spanish style at the fate that kept them beyond arms' length of the foe.
Don Alonzo stood on the quarter-deck, gazing earnestly in the direction of his admiral's lanthorns, and between whiles discussing some grave matter with the lieutenants.
We stood a long time before he had leisure to attend to us.