And so the battle raged till the enemy showed such evident signs of weakness, that it was proposed to board the carrack. Here, however, the admiral interposed, as he wished to preserve the treasure on board. The ships were ordered to cease firing, and one Captain Sewell, who had been four years a prisoner on the galleys, from one of which he had only just escaped by swimming, was selected to parley with them. He was to promise honourable conditions, but insist that as the English held the roadstead, as several of the galleys were _hors de combat_, and the castle powerless, they must expect the worst in a case of refusal. The captain of the carrack would not treat with an officer who had so recently been a slave in their power, but sent a deputation of Portuguese gentlemen of quality, desiring that they should be met by those of similar rank in the English service. They were, of course, properly received, but having delivered their message, evinced a great desire to hasten back; they revealed the real state of affairs by admitting that it was a moot question on the carrack whether the parley ought to be entertained, or the vessel set on fire. Monson’s promptitude once more saved the situation. Not waiting to hear any more, or receiving any instruction from Admiral Lewson, he ordered his men to row him to the carrack. Several officers on board recognised him, and the commander, Don Diego Lobo, a young man of family, motioning his men apart, received him courteously. After some little palaver, Monson informing Don Diego of the rank he held in the expedition, and assuring him of his high regard for the Portuguese nation, the real business of their interview was approached. Diego asked that he, his officers and men, should be put on shore that night; that the ship and its ordnance should be respected, and its flags remain suspended; the treasure he would concede to the victors. Monson agreed to the first proposition, excepting only that he required a certain number of hostages whom he would detain three days, but laughed at the idea of separating the ship and its contents; and stated that “he was resolved never to permit a Spanish flag to be worn in the presence of the Queen’s ships, unless it were disgracefully over the poop.” A long discussion followed, and Monson, who was determined to have his way, made a show of descending to his boat. His firmness won the day, and all his demands were eventually conceded, after which he conducted Don Diego and eight gentlemen on board his ship, “when they supped, had a variety of music, and spent the night in great jollity.” This is Monson’s account; it is doubtful whether the Portuguese were thoroughly enjoying themselves under the circumstances! When next day Sir William accompanied them on shore, he found the Count de Vidigueira at the head of a force numbering 20,000 men, whose services were not of much account now. The disgust ashore at the comparatively easy victory attained by the English may be imagined. Besides the capture of the carrack, two of the galleys were burnt and sunk; the captain of another was taken prisoner, and the others fled during the engagement, although they were afterwards shamed into returning by the heroic behaviour of Spinola, who defended the carrack against desperate odds. The total loss of life in the town, castle, and vessels, although never accurately known, must have been immense, while the victory was purchased by the English with the loss of only six men, scarcely a larger number being wounded.