So when the tinkle grew loud and Drake stood up and blew his whistle, and the men sprang upon the mules and ripped open the bags--only silver was found. Soon they heard the tramp of armed men coming from Panama; there was no time to lose, they must abandon the loot and escape--that miserable drunkard had spoilt all. They made for Venta Cruz, and charged like madmen into the little town. There was a hospital there, full of sick ladies and young mothers; these poor creatures believed they would all be burnt to death, and screamed aloud for mercy. "Have I not ordered that no woman shall be touched?" said Drake. "Yea, sir, but they will not believe it is true." Then the dreaded rover, El Draque himself, entered the great ward of the hospital, and spoke words of comfort to the ladies; and when they saw the kind and merry light in his frank blue eyes, they were quite content. Drake and his men were away before the soldiers came from Panama. Whither he went they knew not; but in the next fortnight two or three Spanish frigates reported having been boarded by a polite pirate, who insisted on relieving them of most of their gold. A panic set in, and the gold ships were afraid to stir. On the last night of March, as the mule-trains, laden with silver and gold, were drawing near to Nombre de Dios, there was a sudden yell from the Maroons, "Yo Peho!" and a crashing of firearms. The mules knelt down, and Drake's men rifled the packs, and were away before the alarm could be given. One day before this, a Huguenot privateer came across an English ship and begged for help. "Come on board and tell your story," signalled the English captain. The Frenchman came and told a tale which startled all who understood. It was just the latest news from Paris--nothing else but the St. Bartholomew massacre! "Just God!" cried Francis Drake, "may I do something to crush this tyranny!" There and then the Huguenot and the sea-rover made a compact to work together. The Frenchmen were with Drake when he made his attack on the mule-train, and helped to carry the silver bars to the river-mouth, where the pinnaces were to meet them. Drenched by a rain-storm they looked for the pinnaces; but, instead, saw seven Spanish vessels rowing towards Nombre de Dios. What was the good of their staggering under a weight of treasure if they had no means of carrying it home! They sat down and looked at one another in blank despair. But Francis Drake alone was laughing--positively laughing--though his fate was apparently sealed; torture and a hideous prison, and a shameful death. The Frenchmen gazed upon him with open-mouthed wonder. Who was this short, well-set seaman, with broad chest and long brown hair, with full beard tapering, brown to russet, with full blue eyes and fair complexion, that he should exercise so strange an influence over his men?