Lord Julian held his breath, and Miss Bishop gasped, clutching the
rail before her. She had a glimpse of the wickedly grinning face
of Don Miguel, and the grinning faces of the men at the guns in the
waist.
At last the Arabella was right between the Spanish ships prow to
poop and poop to prow. Don Miguel spoke to the trumpeter, who had
mounted the quarter-deck and stood now at the Admiral's elbow. The
man raised the silver bugle that was to give the signal for the
broadsides of both ships. But even as he placed it to his lips,
the Admiral seized his arm, to arrest him. Only then had he
perceived what was so obvious - or should have been to an experienced
sea-fighter: he had delayed too long and Captain Blood had
outmanoeuvred him. In attempting to fire now upon the Englishman,
the Milagrosa and her consort would also be firing into each other.
Too late he ordered his helmsman to put the tiller hard over and
swing the ship to larboard, as a preliminary to manoeuvring for a
less impossible position of attack. At that very moment the Arabella
seemed to explode as she swept by.
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