Now ensued a dead-lock. Lachlan MacLean refused to yield up his brace of Spanish officers unless the demands of his people were paid in full, while Captain Pareira kept Donald Glas locked in a cabin and swore to carry him to sea. The tragedy which followed is told in the traditions of Mull to this day. When Donald Glas learned that he was kidnapped in the galleon, he resolved to wreak dreadful revenge for the treachery dealt his kinsmen. On the morning when the _Florencia_ weighed anchor, an attendant who had been confined with him was sent on shore and Donald sent word of his fell intention to the chief of the clan. Overnight Donald Glas had discovered that only a bulkhead separated his cabin from the powder magazine of the galleon, and by some means, which tradition omits to explain, he cut a hole through the planking and laid a train ready for the match. Just before the _Florencia_ weighed anchor he was fetched on deck for a moment to take his last sight of the heathery hills of Mull and Morvern. Then the captive was thrust back into his cabin, and with her great, gay banners trailing from aloft, the galleon made sail and began slowly to move away from the shore of Tobermory Bay. It was then that Donald Glas, true MacLean was he, fired his train of powder, and bang! the magazine exploded. The galleon was torn asunder with terrific violence, and the bodies of her soldiers and mariners were flung far over the bay and even upon the shore. So complete was the destruction that only three of the several hundred Spaniards escaped alive. The _Florencia_ had vanished in a manner truly epic, and proud were the MacLeans of the deed of young Donald Glas who gave his life for the honor of his clan.