This plantation is the leaven which is
to leaven the whole lump, and surely he will hide it in the hollow
of his hand and in the shadow of his wing. God of battles, hear us!
God of England, God of America, aid the children of the one, the
saviors of the other!"
He had dropped the pike to raise his clasped hands to the blue
heavens, but now he lifted it again, threw back his shoulders, and
flung up his head. He laid his hand on the flagstaff, and looked up
to the banner streaming in the breeze. "It looks well so high against
the blue, does n't it, friends?" he cried genially. "Suppose we keep
it there forever and a day!"
A cheer arose, so loud that it silenced, if it did not convince, the
craven few. As for Master Edward Sharpless, he disappeared
behind the line of women.
The great ship came steadily on, her white sails growing larger and
larger, moment by moment, her tiers of guns more distinct and
menacing, her whole aspect more defiant. Her waist seemed
packed with men. But no streamers, no flag.
A puff of smoke floated up from the deck of the Tiger, and a ball
from one of her two tiny falcons passed through the stranger's
rigging. A cheer for the brave little cockboat arose from the
English. "David and his pebble!" exclaimed Master Jeremy
Sparrow. "Now for Goliath's twenty-pounders!"
But no flame and thunder issued from the guns aboard the
stranger.
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