"I have seen a miracle, Captain. Allah the Compassionate has watched over you today." The pilot's face showed none of the strain of battle. And his clothes were still spotless, oddly immune from the oily smoke that blackened all the English seamen. "But I fear there cannot be two miracles on the same morning. You are about to pay for your fortune. Perhaps there is still time to strike your colors and save the lives of your men." "We surrender now and we'll rot in a Goa prison forever. Or be pulled apart on the _strappado_." Hawksworth glared back. "And I seem to recall the Quran says 'Do not falter when you've gained the upper hand.'" "You do not have the upper hand, my Captain, and the Holy Quran speaks only of those who trust in Allah, the Merciful. . . ." His voice trailed off as he turned to stare at Hawksworth. "It is not common for a _feringhi_ to know the Holy Quran. How is it you--?" "I just spent two years in a Turkish prison, and I heard little else." Hawksworth turned and was testing the wind, weighing his options. The _St. Sebastian _was almost on them. Her cannon were already run out, and at any moment she would start coming about for a broadside. He could still hear the trucks of the cannon below decks, as the starboard battery was being run out, and he knew the portside crews were only now beginning to swab the last glowing shreds of metal from the cannon barrels. Good God, there's no time to set the ordnance. They'll blow us to hell. He deliberated for a long moment, weighing his options. As he watched, the _St. Sebastian _began to shorten sail, preparing to come about and fire. Only minutes remained. Then he noticed that the wind on the burning _Bon Ventura's _superstructure was drifting her in the direction of the approaching _St. Sebastian_, and he hit on another gamble. They've shortened sail in order to come about, which means they're vulnerable. Now if I can make them try to take their bow across the wind, with their sails shortened . . . "Mackintosh, take her hard about! Set the courses for a port tack." Once again the _Discovery_ heeled in the water, her stern deftly crossing the wind, and then she was back under full sail, still to windward of the burning galleon. The sudden tack had left the burning _Bon Ventura _directly between the English frigate and the approaching galleon. The _Discovery _pulled away, keeping the wind, forcing the galleon to tack also if she would engage them. Hawksworth watched, holding his breath as Portuguese seamen began to man the sheets, bringing the _St. Sebastian's _bow into the wind.