"There is no hurry, Devereaux," said Lord Howard. "It will be after night falls before the ships are started. Art sure that the peril is well understood? It may be that you will not come back." "It may be so, sir," answered the young man. "Sir Francis or any one of us may be taken in the next engagement. But who would preserve life if by giving it he may keep England and England's queen from the invader?" "Spoken like a true Englishman, lad," cried Drake heartily. "Now, my lord, these two will return with me and, in God's name, with my two Devon men we shall this night so put upon the Spaniards as they shall ne'er dream of setting foot on English soil again." "Go," said the lord admiral placing an arm about the neck of each. "Go, my lads. My hopes and prayers go with you. And should aught happen to ye, the queen shall know that ye died in her service. And so fare you well." "Fare you well," answered they both and followed after Drake to his own boat--The Revenge. About two o'clock Monday morning eight ships smeared all over the outside with pitch and rosin, their ordnance loaded with stones and bullets and filled with sulphur and other materials suddenly combustible glided out from among the English fleet and took their way silently toward the Spanish ships lying so serenely at anchor. The night was cloudy. The moon was late in its last quarter and did not rise till morning. The darkness favored their enterprise. The wind blew in long, low gusts from the westward which drove them full upon the Armada. Presently as the dark forms of the ships bore full upon the Spanish vessels a tiny spark of light gleamed like a twinkling star at the stern of the boats. For a second it wavered and flickered and then in a moment more a red glare lighted up the heavens and cast a lurid glow upon the two fleets, the cliffs of England and the sea and showing plainly two boats--with Young and Prowse, the two men of Devon in one; Francis and Edward in the other. With a rush and roar the flames leaped madly from stem to stern and up through all the rigging sending out great tongues of fire forward, backward, sideways threatening total destruction to anything that came within their reach. "Pull, Francis," cried Devereaux bending with desperate strength to the oars. "Pull for your life." The girl obeyed with a will. And now from the ships of Spain there went up a fearful cry. A panic seized upon them at sight of those awful burning vessels. They cried out that not only was there danger of fire but that they contained deadly engines also. Everything was in confusion. Panic-stricken they weighed anchor, cut their cables, hoisted their sails and struck for the open sea, every ship afoul of her neighbor. A huge galleass had her rudder broken and drifted helplessly with the tide. [Illustration: "_PULL, PULL FOR YOUR LIFE!_"]