"I have had some small dealings with the Venetians," boasted Messer Nicholas. "By St. Edward, they should know me!" He gave a jaunty twist to his moustaches. "Warriors though they are, they met their match when they tried to tell Nicholas Dunning where he could not trade. I am a bad man to threaten, lords. I will not down my head for any man on the seas. Wherever I go, I am an Englishman, and I say to all shipmen, of every tongue: Sirs, I say----" A cry of alarm rose from the forecastle. "What's that? What's that?" demanded Messer Nicholas. He ran to the larboard rail and peered under the edge of the great square-sail on the mizzen-mast. "Oh, 'tis the galley," he said carelessly. "But what does the fellow on this course? He makes back for Hastings." Of a sudden his face went ashen grey. "The Red Crescent! By Our Lady, a Saracen corsair in the Narrow Seas!" He wept and wrung his hands. "Oh, lords, I never thought to see this! And there is great store of wealth in the hold. What shall I do? I am a peaceful shipman, and yon varlets will have me at their mercy. What shall I do?" "Put your ship in order for defence," directed Hugh. "St. James, man, are you sunk before you are come to battle?" "Take advantage of this wind," suggested Matteo. "Bear away, so that you have them over your stern." A flicker of hope lighted the shipman's face, and he bellowed an order to the sailor at the tiller. The cog heeled and bore off across the wind, as it were. The galley was plainly revealed by this manoeuvre to the comrades on the poop. The lean, slender craft, half as long again as the cog, but less than half as high out of the water, raced along, with foaming oars. Steel flashed on fore and stern castles and amongst the rowers. From her mast floated the dreaded ensign of the Moslem rovers. "He gains on us still," whined Messer Nicholas. "We shall be butchered like sheep." "Ay, and you bestir not yourself to give the Paynims a warm greeting," returned Matteo. The jongleur swept a calculating eye over the two speeding vessels. Aboard the galley all was quiet. The decks of the cog were crowded with disorderly groups whose lamentations rose momentarily louder. "We have some small chance, Hugh," he said calmly. "The galley is swift and in this light wind will easily overtake us. 'Tis a question only of time, to be protracted somewhat by skill in ship-handling." Hugh nodded. "We are beginning our adventures earlier than had been my expectation. To say truth, I see not what we may do, save it be to make a good end." "Nay, we are not yet in that plight. I have a plan. Messer Shipman, bid one of your fellows bring me a half-keg of tar, and you have such a commodity in your stores. Eke a barrel of oil." The shipman goggled at him.