"What is he after now?"
The Spaniard, who had been coming upon them right down the wind under a
press of sail, took in his light canvas.
"He don't know what to make of our waiting for him so bold," said the
helmsman.
"He does though, and means to fight us," cried another. "See, he is
hauling up the foot of his mainsail: but he wants to keep the wind of
us."
"Let him try, then," quoth Amyas. "Keep her closer still. Let no one
fire till we are about. Man the starboard guns; to starboard, and
wait, all small arm men. Pass the order down to the gunner, and bid
all fire high, and take the rigging."
Bang went one of the Spaniard's bow guns, and the shot went wide. Then
another and another, while the men fidgeted about, looking at the
priming of their muskets, and loosened their arrows in the sheaf.
"Lie down, men, and sing a psalm. When I want you I'll call you.
Closer still, if you can, helmsman, and we will try a short ship
against a long one. We can sail two points nearer the wind than he."
As Amyas had calculated, the Spaniard would gladly enough have stood
across the _Rose's_ bows, but knowing the English readiness dare not
for fear of being raked; so her only plan, if she did not intend to
shoot past her foe down to leeward, was to put her head close to the
wind, and wait for her on the same tack.
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