The King, his
knights, and even the archers in the waist below them, laughed at
the merry lilt and joined lustily in the chorus, while the men of
the neighboring ships leaned over the side to hearken to the deep
chant rolling over the waters.
But there came a sudden interruption to the song. A sharp, harsh
shout came down from the lookout stationed in the circular top at
the end of the mast. "I spy a sail--two sails!" he cried.
John Bunce the King's shipman shaded his eyes and stared at the
long fog-bank which shrouded the northern channel. Chandos, with
his fingers over the strings of his guitar, the King, the knights,
all gazed in the same direction. Two small dark shapes had burst
forth, and then after some minutes a third.
"Surely they are the Spaniards?" said the King.
"Nay, sire," the seaman answered, "the Spaniards are greater ships
and are painted red. I know not what these may be."
"But I could hazard a guess!" cried Chandos. "Surely they are the
three ships with my own men on their way to Brittany."
"You have hit it, John," said the King. "But look, I pray you!
What in the name of the Virgin is that?"
Four brilliant stars of flashing light had shone out from
different points of the cloud-bank. The next instant as many tall
ships had swooped forth into the sunshine. A fierce shout rang
from the King's ship, and was taken up all down the line, until
the whole coast from Dungeness to Winchelsea echoed the warlike
greeting.
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