which they drew and fired wildly at the seamen who rushed down on them. A few turned their backs and tried to flee back among the trees, but Schreuder was there to head them off. 'Back, you dogs and sons of dogs. Stand your ground like men!' They turned again, and formed up around him.
Every man of the Resolution's crew who could still stand on his feet was in that charge even the wounded hobbled along behind the rest, cheering as loudly as their comrades.
The two lines came together and immediately all was confusion. The solid rank of attackers split up into little groups of struggling men, mingled with the green serge coats of the Dutch. All around Hal fighting men were cursing, shouting and hacking at each other. His existence closed in, became a circle of angry, terrified faces and the clatter of steel weapons, most already dulled with new gore.
A green-jacket stabbed a long pike at Hal's face. He ducked under it and, with his left hand, seized the shaft just behind the spearhead.
When the musketeer heaved back, Hal did not resist but used the impetus to launch his counter-attack, leading with the Neptune sword in his right hand. He aimed at the straining yellow throat above the high green collar, and his point slid in cleanly. As the man dropped the pike and fell back, Hal allowed the weight of his dropping body to pull him free of the blade.
Hal went smoothly back on guard, and glanced quickly around for his next opponent, but the charge of seamen had almost wiped out the file of musketeers. Few were left standing, and they were surrounded by clusters of attackers.
He felt his spirits soar. For the first time since he had seen those two ships sail into the lagoon, he felt that there was a chance that they might win this fight. In these last few minutes, they had broken up the main attack. Now they had only to deal with the sailors from the Dutch frigate and the Gull as they tried to come ashore.
'Well done, lads. We can do it! We can thrash them,' he shouted, and the seamen who heard him cheered again.
Looking about him, he could see triumph on the face of every one of his men as they cut down the last of the green-jackets. Aboli was laughing and singing one of his pagan war-chants in a voice that carried over the din of the battle and inspired every man who heard it.
They cheered him and themselves, rejoicing deliriously, in the ease of their victory.
Daniel's tall figure loomed at Hal's right side. His face and thick muscular arms were speckled with blood thrown from the wounds he had inflicted on his victims, and his mouth was wide open as he laughed ferociously, showing his carious teeth.
'Where is Schreuder?' Hal yelled, and Daniel sobered instantly. The laughter died as his mouth snapped shut and he glared around the quietening battlefield.
Then Hal's question was answered unequivocally by Schreuder himself. 'Second wave! Forward!' he bellowed lustily. He was standing on the edge of the forest, only a hundred paces from them. Hal, Aboli and Daniel started towards him, then came up short as another massed column of green-jackets poured out of the forest from behind where Schreuder stood.
'By God!' Hal breathed in despair. 'We haven't-seen the half of them yet. The bastard has kept his main force in reserve.'
'There must be two hundred of the swine!' Daniel shook his head in disbelief.
'Quarter columns!' Schreuder shouted, and the advancing infantry changed their formation. they spread out behind him three deep in precisely spaced ranks. Schreuder led them forward at a trot, their ranks neatly dressed and their weapons advanced. Suddenly he held his sword high to halt them. 'First rank! Prepare to fire!' His men sank to their knees, while behind them the other two ranks stood -steady.
'Present your arms!' A line of muskets was raised and levelled at the knots of dumbstruck seamen.
'Fire!' roared Schreuder.
The volley crashed out. From a distance of only fifty paces it swept through Hal's men, and almost every shot told. Men dropped and staggered as the heavy lead pellets struck. The line of Englishmen reeled and wavered. There was a chorus of yells of pain and anger and fear.
'Charge!' Hal cried. 'Don't stand and let them shoot you down!' He lifted the Neptune sword high. 'Come on, lads. Have at them!'
On each side of him Aboli and Daniel started forward, but most of the others hung back. It was dawning on them that the fight was lost, and many looked back towards the safety of the gun emplacements. That was a dangerous signal. Once they glanced over their shoulders it was all up.
'Second rank,' shouted Schreuder, 'prepare to fire!' Fifty more musketeers stepped forward, their weapons loaded and the matches burning. They walked through the gaps in the kneeling rank that had just fired, advanced another two paces in a brisk businesslike manner, then knelt.
'Present your arms!' Even Hal and the dauntless pair flanking him wavered as they gazed into the muzzles of fifty levelled muskets, while a moan of fear and horror went up from their men. They had never before faced such disciplined troops.
'Fire!' Schreuder dropped his sword, and the next volley slashed into the wavering seamen. Hal flinched as a ball passed his ear so closely that the wind of it flipped a curl of his hair into his eyes.
At his side Daniel gasped, 'I am struck!' jerked around like a marionette and sat down heavily. The volley had knocked over another dozen of the Resolution's men and wounded as many more. Hal stooped to aid Daniel, but the big boatswain growled, 'Don't dither about here, you fool. Run! We're beaten, and there's another volley coming.'
As if to prove his words, Schreuder's next orders rang out close at hand. 'Third rank, present your arms!'
All around them the Resolution's men who were still on their feet, broke and scattered in the face of the levelled muskets, running. and staggering towards the gun pits
'Help me, Aboli,' Hal shouted, and Aboli grabbed Daniel's other arm. Between them they hauled him to his feet and started back towards the beach.
'Fire!' Schreuder shouted, and at that instant, not waiting for a word from each other, Hal and Aboli flung themselves flat to earth, pulling Daniel down with them. The gunsmoke and the shot of the third volley crashed over their heads. Immediately they sprang up again and, dragging Daniel, ran for the shelter of the pits.
'Are you hit?' Aboli grunted at Hal, who shook his head, saving his breath. Few of his seamen were still on their feet. Only a handful had reached the line of gun pits and jumped into their shelter.
Half carrying Daniel, they staggered on, while behind them there were jubilant cheers, and the green-clad musketeers surged forward, brandishing their weapons. The three reached the gun pit and pulled Daniel down into it.
There was no need to ask of his wound for the whole of his left side ran red with blood. Aboli jerked the cloth from around his head, wadded it into a ball and stuffed it hurriedly into the front of Daniel's shirt.
'Hold that on the wound,' he told Daniel. 'Press as hard as you can.' He left him lying on the floor of the pit, and stood up beside Hal.
'Oh, sweet Mary!' Hal whispered. His sweat-streaked face was pale with horror and fury at what he beheld over the parapet. 'Look at those bloody butchers!'
As the green-jackets came clamouring forward, they paused only to stab the wounded seamen who lay in their path. Some of their victims rolled on their backs and lifted their bare hands to try to ward off the thrust, others screamed for mercy and tried to crawl away but, laughing and hooting, the musketeers ran after them, thrusting and hacking. This bloody work was quickly done, with Schreuder bellowing at them to close up and keep advancing.
In this moment of respite Sir Francis came dodging down the line and jumped into the pit beside his son.
'We are beaten, Father!' Hal said, dispiritedly, and they looked around at their dead and wounded. 'We have lost over half our men already.'
'Hal is right,' Aboli agreed. 'It is over. We must try to get away.'
'Where to?' Sir Francis asked, with a grim smile. 'That way?' He pointed through the trees towards the lagoon, where they saw-boats speeding in towards the beach, driven by the oars of enemy sailors eager to join the fight.
Both the frigate and the Gull had lowered their boats which were crowded with men. Their cutlasses were drawn and the smoke of their matchlocks blued the air, trailing out across the surface of the water.
They were shouting and cheering as wildly as the green-jackets in front.
As the first boats touched the beach the armed men spilled out of them and raced across the narrow strip of white sand. Howling with savage zeal, they stormed at the line of gun pits in which the empty culver ins gaped silently, and the Resolution's remaining crew cowered bewildered.
'We cannot hope for quarter, lads,' Sir Francis shouted. 'Look at what those bloodthirsty heathen do to those who try to yield to them.' With his sword he indicated the corpses of the murdered men that littered the ground in front of the guns. 'One more cheer for King Charley, and we'll go down fighting!'
The voices of his tiny band were small and hoarse with exhaustion as they dragged themselves over the parapet once more and sallied out to meet the charge of two hundred eager musketeers. Aboli was a dozen paces ahead, and hacked at the first green-jacket in his path. His
