"What's the matter ?" The man, whom I recognized as one of the commander's servants, a fellow with the soul of a French valet de chambre, was wild with terror.
"They are at the guns!" he quavered.

"Alackaday! what can a few sakers and demiculverins do against them ?" "Against whom ?" I cried.
"They are giving out pikes and cutlasses! Woe's me, the sight of naked steel hath ever made me sick!" I drew my dagger, and flashed it before him.

"Does 't make you sick ?" I asked.

"You shall be sicker yet, if you do not speak to some purpose." The fellow shrank back, his eyeballs starting from his head.
"It's a tall ship," he gasped, "a very big ship! It hath ten culverins, beside fowlers and murderers, sabers, falcons, and bases!" I took him by the collar and shook him off his feet.
"There are priests on board!" he managed to say as I set him down.

"This time to-morrrow we'll all be on the rack! And next week the galleys will have us!" "It's the Spaniard at last," I said.