convince, the craven few. As for Master Edward Sharpless, he disappeared behind the line of women.

The great ship came steadily on, her white sails growing larger and larger, moment by moment, her tiers of guns more distinct and menacing, her whole aspect more defiant. Her waist seemed packed with men. But no streamers, no flag.

A puff of smoke floated up from the deck of the Tiger, and a ball from one of her two tiny falcons passed through the stranger’s rigging. A cheer for the brave little cockboat arose from the English. “David and his pebble!” exclaimed Master Jeremy Sparrow. “Now for Goliath’s twenty-pounders!”

But no flame and thunder issued from the guns aboard the stranger. Instead, from her deck there came to