'Then do not veer,' quoth Sir Oliver hastily. 'And now, fair sir, I must hasten back to see how my rogues have fared with the brawn.'
'Nay, but this will scarce suffice,' cried the shipman. 'If we do not veer we shall be upon the rocks within the hour.'
'Then veer,' said Sir Oliver. 'There is my rede; and now, Sir Nigel, I must crave'
At this instant, however, a startled shout rang out from two seamen upon the forecastle. 'Rocks!' they yelled, stabbing into the air with their forefingers, 'rocks beneath our very bows!' Through the belly of a great black wave, not one hundred paces to the front of them, there thrust forth a huge jagged mass of brown stone, which spouted spray as though it were some crouching monster, while a dull menacing boom and roar filled the air.
'Yare! yare!' screamed Goodwin Hawtayne, flinging himself upon the long pole which served as a tiller. 'Cut the halliard! Haul her over! Lay her two courses to the wind!'
Over swung the great boom, and the cog trembled and quivered within five spear-lengths. of the breakers.'
'She can scarce draw clear,' cried Hawtayne, with his eyes from the sail to the seething line of foam. 'May the holy Julian stand by us and the thrice-sainted Christopher!'
'If there be such peril, Sir Oliver,' quoth Sir Nigel, 'it would be very knightly and fitting that we should show our pennons. I pray you, Edricson, that you will command my guidon-bearer to put forward my banner.'
'And sound the trumpets!' cried Sir Oliver. 'In manus tuas, Domine! I am in the keeping of James of Compostella, to whose shrine I shall make pilgrimage, and in whose honour I vow that I will eat a carp each year upon his feast-day. Mon Dieu, but the waves roar! How is it with us now, master-shipman?'
'We draw! We draw!' cried Hawtayne, with his eyes still fixed upon the foam which hissed under the very bulge of the side. 'Ah Holy Mother, be with us now!'
