The mist was lifting a little. He could see now that the skies were dark and lowering. There would be rain later in the day. He spoke to the man at the tiller telling him to set his course two points to larboard, and then, as he moved away, anxious to exercise his shivering limbs, he heard a sudden wild yell from the main mast.
“Sail in sight – two of them, sir. It’s, it’s the enemy!”
There was hardly any need for the look-out, for, as the mists lifted, Rodney had himself seen the ships at the same moment not more than five miles away and sailing straight for them. They were Spanish galleons as large as, if not larger than, the Santa Perpetua, and Rodney guessed that they were heading for the Canary Islands.
More than likely they were merchantmen on their way back to Havana, in which ca
