granted that she was trying to make her escape. They changed course and came in line formation to cut her off, leaning to the thrust of the wind; gallant ships, wealth and an empire in their grip.
Suddenly Iberville's voice blared, men leaped to tacks and braces.
To the utter amazement of the English, the Pelican ceased to run. She altered course sharply; now she was bearing straight for them, circled out, and had the weather-gauge of them! Iberville barked again. Reef-tackles set taut, the fore and main courses were spilled as though they were about to furl.
To the Hampshire, it was obvious that the French meant to lay them aboard. Dour Captain Fletcher refused the challenge, luffed and paid off; a quick, wild laugh of exultant delight burst from Iberville. The sound of it was drowned as the guns began to roar, and the stout decks shivered to the recoil. His voice rose again amid the wild turmoil.
He lifted the flagon of wine; then his hand poised and Bess Adams saw his lean dark face lose color.
That whole broadside was poured into the Hampshire. Hard up with the helm, brace in the after yards! Up mounted the mainsail and bellied out; the spanker was brailed in, and like a shifting devil the Pelican whirled and drove straight for the Dering. Into this stout ship the guns roared a blast of grape, cutting her rigging into shreds, and then roared another blast into the Hudson Bay. Another shift, and Iberville was off.
But dour old Fletcher knew his business. The Hampshire came foaming along back, with a rolling thunder of guns; and here was the instant Iberville had dreaded, with good reason.
The rigging of the Pelican was cut to rope-yarns by that hail of shot; sheets, braces and topping-lifts were severed. Her desperate seamen leaped
