At the very instant when the
seaman stood erect with a fresh bar in his hands, the bolt took
him full in the face, and his body fell forward over the parapet,
hanging there head downward. A howl of exultation burst from the
English at the sight, answered by a wild roar of anger from the
Spaniards. A seaman had run from the Lion's hold and whispered in
the ear of the shipman. He turned an ashen face upon the Prince.
"It is even as I say, sire. The ship is sinking beneath our
feet!" he cried.
"The more need that we should gain another," said he. "Sir Henry
Stokes, Sir Thomas Stourton, William, John of Clifton, here lies
our road! Advance my banner, Thomas de Mohun! On, and the day is
ours!"
By a desperate scramble a dozen men, the Prince at their head,
gained a footing on the edge of the Spaniard's deck. Some slashed
furiously to clear a space, others hung over, clutching the rail
with one hand and pulling up their comrades from below. Every
instant that they could hold their own their strength increased,
till twenty had become thirty and thirty forty, when of a sudden
the newcomers, still reaching forth to their comrades below, saw
the deck beneath them reel and vanish in a swirling sheet of foam.
The Prince's ship had foundered.
A yell went up from the Spaniards as they turned furiously upon
the small band who had reached their deck.
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