“Patre,” said José, “Don Francisco Solis died in my arms.” He paused, overcome by emotion of many kinds; nor could he regain sufficient composure to pursue the subject. Presently he added, “At all events, we are free. Let us thank God for that.” “Amen!” “Patre, I saw the captain of the English. He spoke to me. He is not like what I expected: not blue-eyed and fair-haired, like Walter Grey.” “The English priest tells me he is a brave man, and a good Christian. Though how the latter can be consistent with his buccaneering exploits, I confess I scarcely understand. His name is Captain George Noble, and he is the son of a wealthy merchant of London.” Here their voices were drowned by a shrill, horrible, deafening cry—such a cry as José, at least, had never heard before. He gazed at Fray Fernando in consternation. “That must be the _chamado_, the cry of the galley-slaves when they advance to the attack,” said the monk. José was greatly excited. “Patre, forgive me,” he exclaimed. “Needs must that I go on deck and see what is happening there. I will bring you tidings.” XLII. Joyful Meetings. “O give thanks unto the Lord, for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy.” Ps. cvii. 1, 2. The commander of the _San Cristofero_, while he seemed to be leaving the _Trionfo_ to her fate, had been only making use of a stratagem. He sheered off from the English ship, and rowed to a considerable distance, fully intending to return so soon as the mariners, engaged in boarding the great galleon, should have left their own vessel deserted and defenceless. Then he hoped, with some help from the survivors of the _Trionfo_, to sink or take her without difficulty. But the cowardice (as he esteemed it) of those who commanded the galleon, in capitulating to the English, somewhat disconcerted his plans. On seeing the white flag put up, however, he at once ordered the slaves to row back to the scene of the conflict. This was done with the rapidity and directness which gave the galleys, in their independence of the action of the wind, such an advantage over sailing-vessels. Then he issued orders for an immediate onslaught. But he did not find the English as utterly unprepared as he expected. Moreover, the _Trionfo_ failed to co-operate with her ally. Already she had moved away; and either honour, prudence, or most likely the absolute necessities of her own situation, prevented her return to help the _San Cristofero_. So it was possible that, ere the end of that day’s conflict, the commander of the galley might have occasion to recall the Spanish proverb about those who “go out for wool, and come home shorn.”