When we came off Cherbourg we resolved to lose no more time by putting in; and finding our timbers sound and our canvas well in the wind, we stood out for Ushant.

But Master Petrie repented, a day out, that he had been so hardy. For the nearer we struggled to the open ocean, the greater grew the seas, which presently broke across our bows with a force that made every timber creak, and laid us over almost on our beam-ends. It was soon more than we could do to carry any but a reefed foresail; and all day long some of us were hard at work at the pumps.

How long we laboured thus I can hardly say. It must have been three weeks or more before we breasted Ushant; and by that time the water was gaining on us in the hold, and our victuals had fallen short. Whether we liked it or not, we must try to make Brest, and Heaven would need to work a miracle on our behalf if we were to do that.

Our captain, brave man as he was, lost courage when he found the water coming higher in the hold, and saw the Misericorde labour harder with every new wave and ship more water each time than the last. As for the men, they gave up the labour at the pumps in despair, and took to what liquor they could find to drown their terrors.

But Ludar alone never lost heart or head. He took charge of the deserted helm, and bade the seamen cut away spars and throw over cargo. And they obeyed him, as they would their captain, and plucked up a little spirit at sight of his courage.

"Humphrey," said he, on a night when, although the gale was slackening fast, it was plain, even to him, the end of this voyage was near, "your master will need to wait for his type. Come and stand by me here, for there is nothing else to be done for the brave ship now. I would have liked to save her for the sake of one who once stood at this very helm. But it seems to me we are near our last plunge."

"Perhaps," said I, "God has not done with us yet, and those who pray for us pray not in vain."

Here the Misericorde reeled upwards on a huge wave. For a moment she hung quivering on the top, and then plunged into the trough.

I felt Ludar's hand on my arm, and caught sight of his face, steady and stern, with a flash in his eyes as he looked ahead. He was right. It was the Misericorde's last plunge; for, instead of righting herself, she seemed entangled in the water, and, like one who writhes to get free, heeled half over on her side. Then, before she could recover, up came the next wave, towering high over our heads, and fell like a mountain upon us.

The next thing I was aware of was that I was clinging to a spar in the water, with a strong arm around me, and a voice in my ear:

"Hold on, hold on!"

Then, when I opened my eyes, I saw Ludar and some floating timbers, and nothing more.

But towards one of these timbers he was striking out desperately, which proved to be a small boat, bottom uppermost, which had lain on the deck, and which having been wrenched from its cords, had floated free of the wreck. Between us we reached it, and, with much labour, turned it over. It had neither oars nor sail. Yet, as we clung to it, we could see it was sound of bottom, and would at least hold the two of us.

How we got in, I know not; yet, I think, between two waves, Ludar steadied it while I got in, and then between the next two, I hauled him in. At first, it seemed, in this cockleshell, we were little better off than clinging to the spar, for every wave threatened to swamp it. Yet by God's mercy it carried us somehow.

Not a sign could we see of any of our late shipmates. Only once, a body, clutching at a board, even in death, crossed us. And when we reached out and hauled it to, it was one of the sailors, not drowned, but with his skull broken.

Presently, as I said, the waves grew less, and drifted us we knew not whither, save that it was far from where we had gone down, with no land or sun in view, nothing but a howling waste of waves, and we two at its mercy.

Ludar and I looked at one another grimly. It was no time for talking or wondering what next. For nearly two days we had not tasted food or moistened our lips; and here we were, perhaps a week or a month from land, in a bare boat on a hungry sea. Might we not as well have gone down with the Misericorde?

The daylight went, and presently it was too dark even to see my comrade across the little boat. The last I saw of him he had closed his eyes, and seemed to be composing himself for sleep. But I guessed it was the sleep, not of weariness, but of hunger. The night went on; and presently I could hear him mutter in his sleep. He fancied himself still in the Tower with his warder, whom he charged with messages to me and the maiden. And sometimes he was in the presence of the Scotch Queen, and sometimes in Dunluce with his father. It was all a fevered jumble of talk, which made the night seem weird and horrible to me, and full of dread for the day that was to come.

When it dawned, which it did early, the sea was tumbling wearily, shrouded in a thick mist, which chilled me where I sat, and blotted out everything beyond a little space around the boat. Ludar by this time was awake, but still wandering in his mind with hunger and fever; while I, after my sleepless night, felt my eyelids grow heavy.

How long I slept I know not; but I know I dreamt I was at the foot of the great rock of Dunluce, and looking up could just spy a light on the battlements, and hear a gun and the shout of battle on the top; when suddenly I woke and found it was more than a dream.

High above my head in the mist there loomed a light, and from beyond it there sounded the tolling of a bell, and, as I thought, a clash of arms. I looked across at Ludar, and saw him, too, looking up, but too weak to speak or move. Then the light seemed to plunge downwards, towards us, showing us a huge black outline of a ship, within a few yards of where we drifted.

Instantly I sprang to my feet and shouted, and called to Ludar to do the same. For a moment it seemed we were unheeded. The light swung once more upwards, and after it the great ship, carrying a swirl of water with it, and throwing off a whirlpool of little eddies, in which our boat spun and shook like a leaf in a torrent. Again we shouted, frantically. And then it seemed the bell ceased tolling, and instead there came a call; after that something sharp struck me on the cheek, and flinging up my hand I caught a cord, and felt the boat's keel grind sharply against the side of the great ship.

What I next remember was standing bewildered on the deck, amidst a crowd of soldiers, many of whom wore bright steel armour, and who exercised on the heaving planks well-nigh as steadily as on dry ground. The deck was ablaze with pennons and scutcheons. Somewhere near, the noise of trumpets rose above the roar of the waves. The sun, as it struggled through the mist, flashed on the brass of guns, and the jewels of sword- hilts. The poop behind rose like a stately house, illumined with its swinging lanthorns. Now and again there flitted past me a long-robed priest, to whom all bowed, and after him boys with swaying censers. There was a neighing of horses amidships, and a tolling of bells in the forecastle. The great bellying sails glittered with painted dragons and eagles and sun-bursts. And the men who lined the crosstrees and crowded the tops shouted and answered in a tongue that was new to me. Above all, higher than the helmsman's house or the standard on the poop, shone out a gilded cross, which looked over all the ship.

Little wonder if, as I slowly looked round me and rubbed my eyes, I knew not where I was.

But Ludar, standing near me, steadying himself with the cordage, called me to myself.

"This must be a Spaniard," said he, faintly.

"A Spaniard!" gasped I, "an enemy to our Queen and—"

"Look yonder," said he, stopping me and pointing seaward, where the mist was lifting apace.

There I could discern, as far as my eyes could reach, a great curved line of vessels, many of them like that on which I stood; some larger and grander, some smaller and propelled by oars; all with flags flying and signals waving, and their course pointed all one way.

Not even I, landsman as I was, could mistake what I saw. This could be naught else but the great fleet of the Spanish King, of whose coming we had heard rumours for a year past, but in which I for one had not really believed till thus suddenly I found myself standing on the deck of one of its greatest galleons.

In the horror of the discovery, my first impulse was to fling myself back into the waves from which I had been saved; my second was to seize my sword and fly at the first man I saw, and so die for my country then and there.

But, alas! I was too weak to do either. When I took a step it was to fall in a heap on the deck, faint with hunger, wrath, and shame.

When I came to, I lay in a dark cabin, and Ludar, scarcely less pallid than I, sat beside me.

"Come on deck," said he, "this place is stifling. If the Dons mean to make an end of us, they may as well do it at once."

So, bracing himself up to lend me an arm, he made for the deck.

A sentinel stood at the gangway, whom Ludar, brushing past, bade, in round English, give us food, and lead us to the captain.

The man stared in surprise, and muttered something in Spanish, which, as luck would have it, Ludar, mindful of his smattering of Spanish, learned at Oxford, understood to mean we were to remain below.

Whereupon he pulled me forward, and defied the fellow to put us back.

We might possibly have been run through then and there, had not a soldier, who had overheard our parley, come up.

"Are you English?" said he, in our own tongue.

"My comrade is English, I am Irish," said Ludar, "and unless we have food forthwith, we are not even that."

"I am an Irishman myself," said the soldier, who, by his trappings, was an officer, "therefore come and have some food."

I know I felt then hard put to it, whether, despite my famine, I could eat food in such a place and from such hands. But I persuaded myself, if I was to die so soon, I might as well meet death with a full stomach as an empty.

While we ate, the Irishman questioned. Ludar as to his name and the part of Ireland he lived in. He himself was the son of a southern chief—one Desmond; and, after living some years in Spain, was now attached to the enemy's forces. He was close enough as to the movements of the fleet, and so soon as he had seen us fed, he bade us come with him to the Don.

The deck was as crowded as Fleet Street, and, as we passed to the poop, very few of these gay Spaniards took the trouble to look after us, or wonder how we came there. Only, when Ludar, as we reached the commander's door, suddenly took his sword and flung it out to sea, did a few of them stare. I followed my comrade's example. The sea had as much right to my weapon as a Spaniard, and I was thankful to see that Ludar, in this respect, was of the same mind with me.

In the cabin was a tall, elderly, slightly built man, clad in a fine black steel breastplate, with a crested helmet on the table before him. He stood bending over a chart, which several of his officers were also examining; and as he looked quickly up at our entry, I was surprised at the fairness of his complexion and the grave mildness of his demeanour.

Our Irish guide briefly explained who we were and how we came on board. Don Alonzo—for that was his name—eyed us keenly; and addressing Ludar, said in a broken English:

"You are Irish. Your name?"

"Ludar McSorley McDonnell of Dunluce and the Glynns," said Ludar.

The commander said something to one of his officers, who presently laid a map of Ireland on the table, and placed his finger on the spot where Dunluce was situated.

"Senor has no sword. Your calling?"

"My sword is in the sea. It belonged to my father, my mistress, and myself," said Ludar, shortly.

The Spaniard inclined his head, with a faint smile.

"His Majesty is unfortunate not to be a fourth in so honourable a company," said he.

Ludar looked confused, and his brow clouded. He was no match for any man when it came to compliments.

"Sir," said he, "I am indebted to your watch for my life, and to his Majesty, your King, for my dinner. I am sorry it is so, but I cannot help it. If you command it, I am bound to make payment; and, since I have no money, you have a right to the service of my hands till we be quits."

Don Alonzo looked him from head to foot and smiled again.

"Sir Ludar is his Majesty's guest on this ship," said he, with a fine motion of the head. "Any service he may render I shall be honoured to accept. I refer him to Captain Desmond, here, for further intelligence."

"And you, Senor," said he, addressing me with somewhat less ceremony, "you are English?"

"I thank Heaven, yea," said I, "a humble servant to her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, and a foe to her enemies."

"And your estate?" demanded he, coldly ignoring my tone.

"I have no estate. I am a plain London 'prentice."

"We shall have the honour of restoring you to London shortly," said he. "Meanwhile Sir Ludar shall not be deprived of the service of his squire."

Then turning to his officers, he occupied himself again with the chart, and left Captain Desmond to conduct us from the cabin.

Neither Ludar nor I was much elated by this interview, but it relieved us, at least, of any immediate prospect of execution, and, unless the Don were jesting, consigned us to no very intolerable service on board his ship. From Captain Desmond, who was not a little impressed by the commander's reception of Ludar, we learned rather more of the expedition and its prospects than before.

"If all go well," said he, "we shall be in English waters to-morrow, and a week later should have dealt with the enemy's fleet and be landed at Dover. This Don Alonzo, it is said, will be appointed governor of London, till the King arrive. He is a prime favourite at the Spanish Court, in proof whereof the Rata carries a crew of the noblest youth of Spain, committed to his care for this great venture. They are hungry for battle, but, alack! I fear we shall none of us get more than will whet our appetite. As for you and me, McDonnell, this business is like to settle scores between our houses and the vixen—"

"Stay, Captain Desmond," said Ludar, interposing suddenly betwixt me and this blasphemer. "My comrade here is a servant of Elizabeth, and has no sword. As for me, my queen is dead—dead on the scaffold. I hate the English Queen as you do; but, if I fight against her, it shall be in my own quarrel, and no man else's. Therefore appoint us a duty whereby we may repay the Spanish King his hospitality, without fighting his battles."

The Irishman shrugged his shoulders.

"I understand not these subtleties," said he: "whom I hate I slay. However, as you will. This voyage will soon be over; but if you choose, while it lasts, to keep the forecastle deck clean, none shall interfere with you; and perchance, when we get into action, you may find it an honourable and even a perilous post."

So we were installed in our ignoble office on board the Rata, and since Captain Desmond's duties never brought him before the foremast, and since Don Alonzo, whenever he went his rounds, never looked at us, and since not a man on the forecastle comprehended a word of English, or could speak a Spanish which Ludar was able to follow, we were left pretty much to ourselves, except that the sentry kept a close eye on our movements.

All day long the soldiers paraded, the trumpets played, the pennons waved, and the blazoned sails swelled with the favouring breeze, so that towards afternoon Ushant was far behind, and every eye was strained forward for the first glimpse of the English, shore. The other vessels of the fleet, which had spread out somewhat in the mist, now gradually closed in at nearer distance, and passed signals which I could not understand. Some were so near we could hear their trumpets and bells, and see the glitter of the sun on the muzzles of their guns. Then about sundown, with great ceremony, a priest came forward, and recited what I took to be a mass; and after him, at the sound of three bells, the whole company trooped to the middle deck, where at the main-mast the purser read aloud a long proclamation in Spanish, at the end of which huzzahs were given for the King, and the lanthorns lit for the night.

I confess I turned in to my berth that night uneasy in my mind. For I never saw ships such as these; no, not even in the Medway. What could our small craft do against these floating towers? and what sort of hole could our guns make in these four-foot walls? And when it came to grappling, what could our slender crews do against this army of picked men, who, even if half of them fell, would yet be a match for any force our English ships could hold?

So I turned in with many forebodings, and all night long I could hear the laugh and song of coming victory, mingled now and again with the fanfare of the trumpets, and the distant boom of the admiral's signal- gun.

Next morning, when we looked out, there was land in sight ahead.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

HOW THE DONS SAILED UP CHANNEL.

For a long while we could discern only a blue haze on the horizon. Then, towards noon, when the sun stood higher, and the wind behind us freshened, there appeared a grey line through the mist, and above that a gleam of green.

The sight was hailed by the gay young Spaniards who crowded the deck with a mighty shout and a defiant blare of the trumpets. And, ere the noise died away, we caught a faint answering echo from the vessels nearest us. Then, acting on some arranged signal, the whole fleet seemed to gather itself together, and closing into a great crescent, at about cable distance, advanced with sails full of wind—a majestic sight, and, to me, who gazed with dismay from end to end of the magnificent line, fraught with doom to my poor country.

The Rata held a post near to the left of the line, and was thus a league, or thereabouts, nearer to the coast than the ships of the other flank. Already out of the mist the black headlands were rising grim and frowning to front us; and already, betwixt us and them, a keen eye might detect the gleam of the afternoon sun on a little white sail here and there. But except for a fishing-boat or two which cruised along our line, taking a good eyeful of us, and then darting ahead before the galliasses could give chase, we saw no sign of the Queen's ships anywhere.

Towards dusk we opened a great break in the coast, which we knew presently to be Plymouth Sound. The Dons, as they stood fully armed on the decks and gangways, laughed at the sight, and all eyes turned to the Duke-Admiral's vessel ahead, to see if he would sail straight in on the unprotected Sound, and so take possession of the coveted land before supper that night. It looked at first as if this were his purpose, when suddenly there was a stir among the onlookers, and Ludar, taking my arm, pointed down the coast to our rear, where, from behind a high headland, peeped out a small cluster of sails.

"There are your ships," said he, "lying in wait, and with the wind of the Don, too."

My heart leapt up at the words. For till now I had supposed our poor fellows cooped up by the wind in Plymouth Water, unable to get out and waiting like sheep for the slaughter. I was tempted to cheer in the Spaniard's face, when I saw them thus clear, on the right side of the wind, and ready to show fight for their Queen and country.

The sails were seen by other eyes than ours; and presently up flung a light from the Duke's ship; and with that we hove to, and dropped anchor where we lay for the night.

Great was the discontent of the grandees on the Rata to be thus put about by the sight of a parcel of herring-boats—as they chose to call them. But it came as a little comfort to them when a message went round for the men to be under arms and ready for battle at daybreak. And with a proud laugh they went off to their quarters for the night. As for Ludar and me, we sat on the forecastle with our eyes straining westward, and full of a strange excitement.

"Humphrey," said Ludar, "if it be any comfort to you, I like not these Dons."

"I thank God to hear that," said I.

"And if it come to a fight," said he, "I had as soon see your pirates yonder sweep the sea as these milords. They did little enough for my Queen while she lived, and they cannot bring her back now she is dead."

"Think you we shall come to blows in the morning?" asked I, anxious to hurry off the sore subject.

"'Tis said so," replied he. "It would not surprise me if yonder sea- dogs did not wait till then."

After that we sat and watched the beacon-fires ashore blaze up one after another and spread the news of our coming far and wide. Presently, too, the moon came up, and by its light looking westward we could discern sails to windward, which fluttered nearer and nearer, till it seemed a shot from one of our pieces could reach them. The news brought many of the Rata's men on deck, some of whom doubted what to make of it all, and others cursed the impudence of this English Drake and his low-born salts.

But at daybreak, when we looked out, there hovered some threescore or more English craft, drawn up in an irregular line from south to north, looking at us. Foremost sailed their great flagship called the Ark Raleigh, so near that I could plainly discern the royal cross of Saint George at the poop. Compared with the mighty Rata she was a small craft, yet, beside the light, low ships that followed her, she towered aloft like a castle, and looked the only ship of all that fleet could stand a quarter of an hour of our ordnance.

While we looked, there came a dull boom from the Spaniard who lay nearest her. We could see the shot, pitched high, plough up the water some twenty yards short. And then—as I thought, rather foolishly—we sat glaring across at one another in the still air, waiting for a breeze.

It came at last, freshly from westward.

We could see the English catch it, and come along with it before ever it filled out our great sails. Nay, when it did reach us, there was not enough to give us way. I marvelled to see how like a log the Rata lay, while the lively Englishmen slipped through the water.

Then followed the strangest beginning to this great sea-fight.

For the Ark and one or two others, having run in towards the end of our line (which lay as near as possible west and east, looking into Plymouth), suddenly put into the wind and ran jauntily down our rear, putting a broadside into each of the Dons as she went by, us included. Nor was that all. When she reached the end of the line, and everyone looked to see her sheer off out of reach, she gaily wore round and came back the way she had gone, giving each Spaniard her other broadside on the road, her consorts behind following suit.

I think I never saw any men so taken aback as were the Spaniards by this performance. For the Rata and the rest of them lay almost helpless in the light wind, while these light-timbered Englishmen darted hither and thither at pleasure, almost as fast in the eye of the wind as down it.

The surprise at first was so great that the Ark was half-way down the line before any attempt was made to close with her and stop her. But she waited on no man, and even when one great galleon, with a mighty effort, swung round to face her, she swerved not a fathom out of her course, but let off two broadsides instead of one to help the presuming Don back again into his post.

Loud and bitter was the wrath among the noble youths on the Rata, as they saw the Invincible Armada of Spain thus flouted by a handful of Englishmen. Bitterer still was the rage of the sailors, when, by no manner of luffing and trimming of sail, could they stand out to chastise these impudent cruisers. But when, after (as I have said), careering down the line, the English admiral put about and came back, the wind freshened and lent some little life to our great hulls, one or two got round far enough to let fly with their culverins and great pieces. But their shot, if it reached the Englishman at all, whizzed over his head and never stopped his course.

Don Alonzo, however, having rather better wind than his unlucky comrades, decided on a bolder stroke to punish the enemy. Ludar and I, as we stood and watched, could see the troops paraded on deck, and grappling irons and chains laid in readiness. The small arms were loaded, and every man stood with his naked knife in his belt.

"He means to come to close quarters and board her," said I.

Ludar laughed. His sportsman's blood was up; and for the first time for many a day the care had vanished from his face, and left there a glow of sheer enjoyment.

"A cow might as well try to board a cat," said he.

And he was right. For as the Ark bore down our way, blazing out at every galleon she passed, Don Alonzo, dropping clear of the line, put his nose in her course, and, so to say, bade her stand and answer him.

Then, for the first time that day, the Ark swerved on her tack and put out her nose too, so that presently we two lay well astern of the line, closing in on one another's course. Then there was great joy on board the Rata. The noble youths shook their lovelocks and gripped their swords. The gunners lay with their eyes on the captain, waiting his signal to fire; and the men on the tops and in the rigging got ready their grappling tackle, and held their cutlasses betwixt their teeth, ready for a spring.

Ludar and I on the forecastle watched the Ark, as, half in the wind, she bore down our way. Her decks, like ours, were cleared for action, and above the gunwales we could spy many a bare head peeping over at us. I marvelled that she had not long since given us a shot; but, like the Spaniard, she seemed bent on close quarters, and was saving up for a hand-to-hand fight.

So, at least, we and all who watched them thought: when suddenly, scarce a cable's length away, she put about full in the wind, and letting fly at us with every shot in her broadside, slipped gaily under our helm, on her way to regain the course she had left, and finish her career down the line of the Dons. Don Alonzo was so taken by surprise, and unready for this sudden move, that he had not a word to say. His broadside, when it went off, fell wide of the mark in the open sea, at the very moment when the English shot rang about his stern, riddling his sails, and knocking the gilded cross in shivers by the board. Nor did they give us shot only, for a cloud of cloth-yard arrows whistled through the rigging, picking off a dozen or so of the men perched there, and grazing the polished breastplates of not a few of the bewildered grandees on the quarter-deck.

Never shall I forget the howl of Spanish curses which greeted this misadventure. The grandees swore at the sailors, and bade them put about and give chase; the sailors swore at the grandees, and bade them come and try to turn the ship quicker than they, if they knew how. The gunners blamed the captain for holding them back, and the captain blamed men and crew alike for behaving like spoiled children, and forgetting their honour and dignity. As for Ludar, he was so tickled by the whole business that he laughed outright, and I had much ado to sober him in the presence of the angry foreigners.

But presently a message came for hands to go aft and look to the damage done to the stern; and we, partly from curiosity, partly from duty, went with them.

'Twas sad to see how the stately poop was battered about. Windows were knocked in, flags tumbled, guns unmounted, and, as I said, the great cross shot in pieces; while all around lay bodies of men dead or wounded. I think what troubled the Dons almost as much as the better sailing of the English was to find that these thick wooden walls of theirs were no proof against the enemy's shot, which crashed through the stout timbers, sometimes letting daylight in, and here and there leaving us plenty of work to do to make them good against the inroad of the water.

By the time the Rata had put back into line, the Ark and her consorts had ended their merry jaunt by tumbling over the mizzen-mast of the Vice-Admiral's ship. And the other English ships having by this time come up, showing their teeth, the Duke sent up a signal to give Plymouth the go-by and sail up Channel. Which was done in a very chapfallen manner; and the great Armada, huddled together, and standing not on the order of its going, turned its heads into the wind, and struggled eastward, the Rata being near the rear of the procession.

The Englishmen hung doggedly on our heels; now and then coming up within shot, and then, having let off their broadsides, dropping away before we could put round to engage them. Never once did they come to close quarters, much as the Spaniard longed for it; and never once did they give him time to try conclusions on equal terms.

The rest of that day Ludar and I were so busy at our carpenters' work abaft that we had no clear view of what passed. We heard dropping shot now and then, and now and again a bolt thundered on to our own hull and buried itself deep in our timbers; while, once, a terrible blaze ahead, followed by a rumbling which set the Rata shivering in all her planks, told us of disaster and explosion somewhere near among the Spaniards themselves. What it all meant we could only guess. For the night came on us roughly, and, as darkness closed, it was all our helmsman could do, with a sharp look-out, to give his fellow ships a wide berth, without going out of his course to look after them.

As soon as ever it was dark, Ludar and I and some dozen others were ordered over the stern in baskets to patch up the holes made by the English shot, and repair the insulted gilding of his Majesty of Spain. No light work it was; suspended betwixt wind and water, groping with lanthorns at our work, rearing and plunging with the waves, and every now and then hearing the boom of a gun behind, which made us wince and wonder whose head was wanted next. Once I thought it was mine; for a great crashing shot came past me out of the darkness, spinning my basket round like a top, and lodging fair in the hole I was mending. Scarce had I time to thank God for my escape, when the man next me uttered a cry and flung up his arms; and there he hung a moment, pinned to the stern by a cloth-yard arrow which pierced his back, before he tumbled over, a dead man, into the sea. One after another of our comrades dropped, till at last it seemed to me Ludar and I alone were left.

"Humphrey," he said, when at last we stood on deck, "I reckon we be almost quits with the King of Spain by now."

"Ay indeed," said I, "and I think further that they who dream of us far away need not despair. For assuredly Heaven wants something more of us before we go under; else we had not been standing here."

But whatever Heaven wanted of us, the ship's master angrily ordered us off to the forecastle, to look to the tackle of the bowsprit. This, but for the plunging of the vessel, was safe work compared with our labour on the poop; for here we were clear of the enemy's shot. But Ludar and I were clumsy with the tackle, not being seamen born; and on that account a trouble arose. For the fellow who overlooked our work chose not only to swear at us by all the saints in the Spaniards' calendar (to which he was welcome), but he pulled out a whip from under his coat and gave Ludar a crack with it, which laid open his cheek-bone, and well- nigh sent him backwards by the board.

Whereupon Ludar, seizing the whip with one hand and the fellow with the other, gave him such a lashing, as the wretch, may be, wished he could give to any man himself; and when he had done that, he threw the whip overboard. But the fellow's howls and yells (for he had a great voice), soon brought a parcel of his mates around him, who, seeing him wallowing on the ground and pointing at Ludar and me, asked no questions, but set on us, with oaths and Spanish cries of "English curs!"

So we too had a pretty time of it, and, but that we got our backs against a bulk-head and had our splicing tackle in our hands, we might have seen no more of that great sea-battle. We fought for our lives for five minutes or so, and then, so great became the uproar, that up came some of the soldiers and an officer, who, seeing two men set upon by twenty, ordered every man to stand.

The officer, as fortune would have it, was our old acquaintance Captain Desmond, who demanded what the noise was all about.

Whereupon the fellow whom Ludar had flogged hobbled up in a white heat, and proclaimed his wrongs to heaven and earth, accusing us of being on the Rata for treasonable purposes, and vowing, even, he had heard us plot to get at the powder and blow up the ship.

Before we could say a word up came a messenger from the Don himself, who, on hearing the story, ordered us to accompany him forthwith to his Excellency.

I could not help observing, as we marched abaft, the gloom which seemed to have fallen on the ship. Not that the gay young lordlings did not still swagger and laugh; but it seemed to me their mirth was more hollow than it had been, and, when now and again a sullen shot out of the darkness behind whizzed through the rigging or rattled on the hull, they ground their teeth angrily and swore in their grand Spanish style at the fate that kept them beyond arms' length of the foe.

Don Alonzo stood on the quarter-deck, gazing earnestly in the direction of his admiral's lanthorns, and between whiles discussing some grave matter with the lieutenants.

We stood a long time before he had leisure to attend to us. Then he beckoned to the officer to bring us forward. When he saw who we were, he knitted his brows and demanded to know the cause of the uproar in the forecastle.

Whereupon Ludar, his face still streaming with blood, saluted and said:

"Master Don, yonder is one of your lads," (pointing to the smarting Spaniard), "who has mistaken a guest of his Majesty your King for one of his own galley-slaves, and struck me. I have chastised him, as he deserves, and thrown his whip overboard. If that be a crime in your country, I pray you hang me at once; for I shall not promise not to do the same thing again to-morrow if he touches me. As for my comrade here, he has done naught but help me defend myself from a score of your brave fellows who thought it not unworthy of their honour to set on us two."

"That I so offended," broke in I, rather foolishly, "is the fault of my being an Englishman, not a Spaniard, Sir Don."

Then the fellow whom Ludar had flogged suddenly found words and broke out in a torrent of rage with his accusations, which grew as he went on, and bade fair—had he but had breath to make an end of them—to picture us as very fiends.

'Twas a fine sight, by the glare of the swinging lanthorns, to see Don Alonzo stand there, calm and grave, with the admirable curl of his lips deepening as the fellow raved himself out.

When the story was done, he turned shortly on him and said something in Spanish, which sent the wretch slinking off with his tail between his legs—a pitiful object to behold, but for the scowl of hate he bestowed on Ludar and me in passing.

"As for you, Senor printer," said Don Alonzo, turning contemptuously to me, "you shall not make me believe all Englishmen are boors. I commend the top of the main-mast to Senor as a spot of Spanish territory where he may learn better manners. Sir Ludar,"—and he turned to Ludar before I could say a word, his bearing changing to that of a gentleman who speaks to a gentleman—"I desire a letter of import to reach the Duke- Admiral by an honourable hand. Will you take the cock-boat and deliver it?"

This sudden compliment—for it was nothing short—staggered Ludar for a moment, and he looked quickly up to see if the Don were not trifling with him. But Don Alonzo was grave and serious.

So Ludar said, shortly:

"I will;" and the interview ended.

It went sorely against my stomach then to have to mount to my perch in the main-tops, and I felt a little hurt that Ludar had put in never a word on my behalf. I remember reflecting, as I slowly scrambled to my penance, how strange it was that for so small a difference of demeanour I should be sent aloft, while Ludar was appointed to a task of honour. But I understood not Spaniards—thank Heaven!—nor did I know much about gentlemen.

At the foot of the mast Ludar came up.

"I am sorry for you, Humphrey," said he. "Yet you are like to get a better view of the fight than most. I shall see you soon again if the waves are kind to me, and the Englishman's shot falls wide."

"Think you not, he means you to escape and get clear?" said I. "Would I were with you!"

"Humphrey, you were ever a fool," said he, gravely. "Expect me back soon, and if I come not, 'twill not be my fault or yours. Get aloft, comrade, and keep a good look-out."

So I went up very sadly. And presently from my high perch I heard the running of a cord and the splash of oars, and saw, on the pale water below me, a black shadow glide out from the ship's side, and lose itself in the darkness.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

HOW LUDAR BROUGHT BACK THE DUKE'S LETTER.

It may have been near midnight on that Sunday night when I went aloft to the main-tops. The sea was still running high, and it was all I could do, in the drizzling rain and wild wind, to hold on to my perch. Now and then a wild gull, terrified by the invasion of its peace, whirled past me, and shrieked away seaward. Once, with a swish and dull boom behind it, a shot passed below me; and once or twice a quiver up the tall mast told me the Rata's guns were at work.

I could detect nothing in the darkness, save the twinkling of many a dim light ahead, and the glare of the ship's lanthorns on the deck below. But, amid the howling of the squall, I heard the thunder of a battle somewhere near, with now and then a loud shout and a rattling of chains, and knew that King Philip of Spain had not yet muzzled the English sea- dogs.

So the night passed, and when morning dawned, cold and grey, I was stupid with sleep, and hunger, and loneliness. The storm had died away, and the water lay sullen and still, while the sails below flapped heavily in the wind. The Rata had dropped to the rear of the Armada, which spread eastward in a long irregular line, very different from the grand curve with which she had swept on Plymouth.

Behind us, some three miles away, cruised the Englishmen, looking at us; while, betwixt us and the far distant Portland headland, I could see the vast hull of one of our own galleons (the same which had blown up in the night), surrounded by a swarm of little craft that picked her bones, like crows on a carcase. Nearer still lay a great disabled Spaniard, with bowsprit and top-masts gone, and flag struck, being towed by her capturers into port. As for the Rata herself, 'twas sad to see how dingy the gay gilding had become in one day, and how sails were riddled, tackle flying, and scutcheons toppled over.

Yet, I had but a passing glance for all these. Where was Ludar? Was he returned? Or was he in the Englishmen's hands? Or was the little cock- boat, perchance, floating somewhere bottom uppermost, and he beneath it? I scanned the waters till my eyes ached. Far ahead, miles away, I fancied I could see, towering among the other galleons, the Duke's royal standard. But, amidst these huddled ships, and water littered with many a spar and little boat, with galleys gliding here and there, signals going, with movings in and out, this way and that, who was to find a solitary man in a cock-boat?

Yet, I think, love has keener eyes than most; and so I, looking again towards where a few stout English craft, returning to their line after a cruise up Channel, cracked out their broadside on the nearest Spaniard within reach, I seemed to see between us and them something in the water which made me look twice. It may have been half-a-mile away, a speck on the water, like some floating barrel or spar. Yet, for the stillness of the water, it moved, as I thought, more than an idle log; and once, as the sun flashed out for a moment along the surface, I thought it to be a head and shoulders.

Presently I lost it, for the glare of the rising sun blotted it out like a speck on a shining mirror. I began to think it was but fancy, or, even if it be a swimmer, it could never be Ludar, who would come from the other quarter, where the Duke's ship was; when once again I saw the figure, this time near enough to know it was assuredly a man who, between each few strokes he took, waved a hand above his head.

I was down the mast in a twinkling, caring nought if I were to swing at the yard-arm within an hour, and ran wildly to the quarter-deck.

"Sir Don!" shouted I, breaking in upon him and his lieutenants, "by your leave, yonder comes Sir Ludar, swimming for his life."

The Don rounded on me with knitted brows. But I cared not.

"Put out a boat to save him, or he is lost!" I cried, "Has your night aloft, sirrah, taught you no better manners?" said he. "Go back—"

But here, looking over towards the swimmer, I saw him throw up both arms, and heard a shout which set every vein in me tingling.

I waited not for his Don-ship, or anyone beside; but flung myself headlong over the tall side into the sea, and struck out with all my might for the place.

A Spanish sentinel on deck, seeing my sudden plunge, and smelling treachery and desertion in it, let fly at me with his musket, grazing my elbow, and sending me ducking a dozen yards or more, before I durst show head again above water. But I had somewhat better to think of than Spanish bullets. For a few minutes I could see nothing of the swimmer, and was beginning to fear I was too late after all, when suddenly a wave brought him close beside me.

Sure enough, it was Ludar, well-nigh spent, keeping himself up with short, breathless strokes, but unable to do more. He was alive enough to know me, and to lay his hand on my arm for support. Hard-pressed as he was, he held betwixt his teeth a paper, which I guessed to be the Duke's despatch, and which, to give him better use for his mouth, I took from him and stuck in my own collar. After that he revived, and together we paddled towards the Rata, which lay, with sails flapping, almost motionless in the rapidly calming sea.

The Spaniards on board seemed to have changed their minds as to myself, for, instead of the sentinel with his gun, a sailor with a rope stood waiting at the gunwale to receive us. I think, had we gone down where we were, he would hardly have troubled himself to come after us. But since we held up, and drifted within reach of his line, he honoured us by casting it our way; and so, with some hauling, we got aboard.

Ludar had partly recovered from his fatigue when he stepped once more on the deck and took the letter from my neck, "You have done me a good turn," said he, with a glow in his face which I prized as much as all the gold pieces in the hold of the Rata; "you have made it possible for me to keep my parole with the Don. Thank you, Humphrey."

Then bidding me follow, he led the way to the quarter-deck, and without a word handed his missive to the Don.

"Senor has returned by a strange way," said the commander.

"I have returned the only way open to me. His Majesty your King has lost a cock-boat."

"He has found what will compensate him—a gallant servant."

"Your pardon," said Ludar, shortly, "I am no servant of the King of Spain. I was his debtor, as was my friend. We are quits up to now. What more we accept from him, we shall be bound to repay,—no more."

The Don frowned, and then smiled, and then with a quiet gesture raised his hand to his helmet.

Accepting this salute as a dismissal, Ludar took my arm and walked away.

No more was said about me just then; but I think, after what passed, the Don, however much he disliked me, deemed it not worth his while to separate me from my comrade.

Ludar told me, what he never told the Don, that he had been captured as he returned in the cock-boat by a boat of the enemy's, belonging to the ship Revenge. The men of the boat, perceiving him to be of their speech, and suspecting he carried news (though he had hidden his letter in his shoe), resolved to carry him to their Captain Drake, to which he seemed to submit. But waiting till he came somewhere near where he suspected the Rata to lie, he had slipped overboard, and hanging quietly under the stern-sheets till they were tired of looking for him, had got off; and after beating about an hour and more, had sighted us in the dawn, and (as he confessed), but for my sight of him, might not have been there to tell the story.

Well, after that, for two days, the weather remained calm; and, as I said, the Spaniard, though now and again he had the better of the breeze, could do little with the enemy which hung doggedly on his skirts, sometimes coming near enough for a broadside, but never, as the impatient gallants on the Rata prayed he might do, running in to close quarters. 'Twas pitiful to hear the grinding of noble teeth on board the ship, as day by day the English Admiral plucked his Majesty's feathers one by one, yet never gave a chance of a battle. Even Don Alonzo's grave, mild countenance grew heavy, and as for the sailors forward, where we were, our friend of the whip had a busy time with them to keep them from breaking into open mutiny.

So there was much comfort all round when, on the Thursday, the wind got up and gave us a chance at last of serious business. For, when we looked out at daybreak, there, scarce two gun-shots off, cruised a handful of English craft, gaily hauling after them two great Spaniards, which (so I heard), were full of stores for the fleet, and which the Rata had kept an eye on for many a day. How, in the night, they had got separate from the main line and so fallen into the hands of the sleepless Englishmen, I know not; but this I know, that when daylight discovered them being towed at the tail of their captors towards an English port, a cry of rage and fury went up from the Rata. All hands were called, guns were manned, arms were served out, and although by so doing he left the Armada without its rear-guard, the Don luffed out into the wind and gave chase.

Then followed merry sport. For no sooner were our backs turned than the main body of the English (who wished nothing better), slipped into our place, and blazed away at the Spanish line right and left, till the whole sea was white with smoke, and you might fancy the thunder of the guns would be heard in Fleet Street itself.

As for us, we had better have stayed where we were. For, while the fight went merrily on ahead, a pretty wild goose chase were we led. For we never got near enough for so much as a broadside. The store ships lay between us and the English, who cunningly used them as a shield, so that from whichever quarter we approached, there were the Dons' own vessels betwixt us and them. Besides that, we could see boats busily taking over the chief of the treasure under our very eyes; while every hour we stayed we dropped further and further astern of the main Armada, so that, had it pleased the Englishmen to spare a ship or two to look after us, I verily believe we might have been cut off for good, and towed into an English port, like these same ill-starred store ships we professed to be rescuing.

Two galliasses, that joined us in our errand, made a gallant attempt, by parting company and coming suddenly upon the enemy, one from either quarter, to compel an action. But the Englishman was ready for this. Keeping the store ships as a shield on the one side, he had a royal salute ready for the galley on the other—so smartly dealt and with such deadly aim, that the wretched slaves at the oars tumbled off their benches and rolled over like so many ninepins; and before others could take their places, a second broadside and a third swept the craft from stem to stem. The Spaniard's shot flew high and harmless, and, for every broadside he let go, the English gave him back two or three.

Thus all that morning and well into the afternoon the Rata hung miserably in the wind, watching the sport which the Englishman made of the King of Spain and his galleons, and never once able to get within speaking distance.

At length, amid many a bitter curse and many an angry taunt, the Don gave orders to put about, and, leaving the store ships to their fate, rejoin the fleet, where, at any rate, (now that it seemed a general fight had at last come about), there was some certain consolation in store for the fluttered grandees.

Alas! that I should live to pity her Majesty's enemies! But I did so that afternoon. For when we came upon the scene, the battle was well- nigh at an end, and the Duke-Admiral's ship, sorely battered in the bows, was hanging out signals to the fleet to draw off. The sea was strewn with helpless galleons; amidst which the active English craft slipped in and out, giving a broadside here, a shot there, a flight of arrows there, yet never getting within grappling distance, or offering the Don a chance of boarding. Not a single one of their ships could I see in distress; while many a Spanish top-mast and bowsprit draggled shamefully, and many a Spanish corpse could I mark being slipped overboard.

Don Alonzo, wrathful and baffled, affected not to see his Admiral's signal, and made one brave attempt to close with the ships nearest him and so retrieve the honours of the day. But he got more than he gave. For the Englishmen suddenly slipped to the wind of him, despite all his efforts, and lying snugly on his flank, as he yawed over with the breeze, pounded him merrily betwixt wind and water, while his own shot, aimed at the sky, flew yards above the English topsails. The young nobles shouted in vain to the enemy to come alongside if they dare, and try conclusions. The Englishman laughed back out of every port in his broadside, and bid them catch if they could. Meanwhile, to pass the time, they slid round by our stern and new-blacked the gilding there, and even hovered a few minutes to leeward to pick off a score or so of the crew on the deck with their arrows, before running back to their quarters on the other port.

How long it went on I know not. For a cry suddenly came of "Hands below!" and down we went to patch up with all our might the holes the English shot had made on the water line. And here we worked all night, amongst a swearing, savage gang, who threatened aloud to blow up the ship rather than fight any more, and wished themselves safe back in the drinking-shops of Lisbon.

When, about midnight, half-stifled with the heat, we came on deck, the Rata was running before the wind at the rear of the Armada, heading for the French coast; and the lanthorns of the English had dropped a league behind.

Never saw I a company so changed as were the gallants of Spain by that day's fight. They still cursed, and laughed, and shouted. But when they shook their fists it was at the lights ahead, and when they dropped, silent and downcast, their faces were turned to the lights astern.

"Humphrey," said Ludar to me, as we stood a moment looking round before we turned to go to our quarters, "I like not this business."

"Why," said I, "the Spaniard is being beaten, and he knows it. Our English sea-dogs are too many for him."

"Ay," said he, with a curl of his lip, "your English are brave enough when there is no helpless woman's head to be taken. But it is because these Dons are a pack of curs that I like this business less and less."

"It contents me well enough to see them shuffled and routed," said I.

"Yes; but how is it to end? A little more, and instead of sailing up Channel, we shall be sailing down; instead of finding ourselves in London, we may arrive in Lisbon. What then?"

This had never occurred to me, I had calculated so surely on finding myself back in England, that I had forgotten we were prisoners on the Rata, and must even go wherever she took us.

"How can we get away?" I asked. "If we swim to the English they will mistake us for spies or Spaniards. And we are too far from the shore."

"In a day or two," said Ludar, "unless the English stop us, we should be near the French Coast. Wait till then. Perchance your master has a better chance for his type after all than he thinks for."

But any plan of escape was fated to be thwarted then and there, even as we laid it. For as we passed a black corner, turning below towards our bunk, there came a sudden gleam and a Spanish curse out of the darkness, and Ludar, next moment, with the blood rushing from his side, staggered forward and fell to the ground.

In an instant, before the villain could slink away, I had him by the neck. It needed no cudgelling of my brains to guess who it might be; for once and again that day while we worked I had marked the fellow's evil eye on Ludar. Ludar had laughed when I had told him of it, and had not deigned so much as to turn his head to see if I spoke true. And in the bustle that had followed I too had forgot our enemy of the whip. But he had not forgotten us.

Although I caught him in the dark, he was too quick for me. He had his blade still, and though he struck wildly and only scratched my arm, the blow loosed my grip for a moment; and in that moment he dashed past me and up the ladder. I followed madly. As I reached the deck, I saw him before me, running forward, and casting a glance behind to see if I followed. Then, tripping on a rope, he lost his feet, and sprawled forward, as I supposed, my easy prey.

But Heaven had taken his punishment out of my hands. For, at the very spot where he fell, the gunwale of the ship stood open at a place where the refuse of the late battle was being let out from the deck into the water. And here, before a hand could be stirred or a cry raised, the wretch plunged shrieking to the fate he deserved, and there was an end of him.

When I returned below, I found Ludar gasping; but his wound, bad as it was, was not so bad as the villain intended. The blade which had aimed at his heart had turned aside on the rib, leaving, indeed, a hideous flesh-wound in the side, but not threatening life. He was faint with loss of blood, and I think, with pain; and when I spoke to him, he turned a white face to me and said nothing.

Therefore, in no little panic, I lifted him gently to his bunk, and went in search of help.

By good fortune I met Captain Desmond, to whom I told his fellow- Irishman's plight; and presently he came forward with a leech. This learned grandee seeing the wound not to be desperate, and having plenty of business, I suppose, elsewhere, among his sea-sick lordlings, bade us bandage up the wound as best we could, and find a better place to lay the sufferer in than that foul hole. Saying which, he dawdled away.

Then Captain Desmond questioned me as to how it all happened, and when I told him, he shrugged his shoulders and said:

"Help me carry him abaft. Heaven knows there are plenty of empty cabins on our ship to-night! The Don has enough to think of without this coming to his ears. Therefore, when we have him safely bestowed, do you attend to your duties here, as before, and I will see to him. Come now."

This was a sad blow to me, to be parted from my master and friend in this hour of danger. Yet it seemed better for him to get to the gentlemen's quarters; for in the hole where he was he could scarce have lived. So I was fain to submit. Captain Desmond promised me that once a day I might come to enquire; and further, that if his man—a Spanish clown, who shook in his shoes whenever he heard a gun—should by any chance be killed, I might take his place.

Whereupon, I grieve to say, I prayed devoutly that night that Heaven would speedily relieve the poor fellow of his fears for good.

Next day I was too miserable toiling alone at the rents in the hold to see or care much what passed. But I know that, towards evening, when I looked out, the low cliffs of France were in sight, and that the English sail were a league in our rear, standing out, as it seemed to me, for the white walls of their own land.



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

HOW LUDAR SAILED NORTH AND I SOUTH.

The next day (it was Saturday), I was hovering near Captain Desmond's quarters on some excuse to enquire after my comrade, when there came a summons for hands forward, and a general stir as of something untoward afoot.

So far as I could judge, we were bowling along before a smart westerly breeze with all canvas set, just about where the Channel straitens betwixt Dover on the English side and Calais on the French. Though we were towards the French side, we could clearly see the white cliffs of England to our left, and betwixt us and them, scarcely a mile to rear of us, hovered a certain number of English craft which had not followed their greater ships into Dover. To our right the towers and steeples of Calais town rose up clear and bright, while straight ahead of us the long line of the Armada, of which we closed in the rear, swept forward as though they would dart clean past the Straits and make for the Dutchman's land beyond.

But as I went forward I marked a rapid passing of signals along the line, and a crowding on each ship at the forecastle. The great anchors of the Rata were swung in readiness over the prow, and a score of men stood by to pay out the cable. Then, as we strained our eyes eagerly ahead, we could see the tall masts of the Duke's ship, and of all the ships betwixt him and us, suddenly swing round into the wind's eye. There was a great flapping of canvas, a rattle of chains, and a plunging of anchors, and then, as if by magic, the great Armada stood still, at bay.

It was easy to guess the object of this strange movement, and as I looked away towards the English fleet, I felt uneasy. For so suddenly was the Spanish fleet halted, and so near upon its heels were the pursuers, that, unless these could halt as suddenly, they would assuredly slip past, and so give the Spaniard—what he so greatly desired and longed for—the wind of them.

Already the young nobles on the Rata were laughing at the smart policy of their Admiral, and rejoicing in the near prospect of a turning of the tables—(for could they once get the Englishman betwixt them and the Duke of Parma's fleet, which was waiting on the Dutch coast, they would crumple him up like chaff between two mill-stones)—already, I say, they were counting on seeing the enemy run past them, down the wind; when, lo, with a derisive shot or two into the air, the Englishmen put about quietly, and after hovering a little, and running a little in the teeth of the wind to get a nice distance from us, they dropped anchor too, and turned every one his broad-stern upon us, so that we might all have an eye full of the Queen's ensigns which floated there.

I confess I lifted my hat in joy and loyalty to see how cunningly the Don had been out-reached. And the Spanish oaths which hissed out from a hundred lips, as they saw the same thing, sounded to me (Heaven forgive me!) like music.

So overjoyed was I, that without leave I went off, laughing, to tell Ludar the news. But alack! at the very entrance to the officer's quarters, whom should I run against but Don Alonzo himself? So smartly did I come against him, that, had I not caught him roughly by the arm, he might have fallen backwards.

When he saw who it was, his brow darkened (and little wonder!) and he said something in Spanish that I was glad I did not know the meaning of. He recovered himself, however, and drew up coldly a moment after.

"This eternal printer!" said he. "The way to the main-mast you know already, sirrah. Take with you this time to the top three days' rations. If you are found lower than the top-mast yard before then, you swing at the bowsprit."

I was sorely tempted to retort then—so put about was I—that there was less chance of my countrymen seeing me if I swung at his bowsprit than if I swung at his stern. But I prudently forebore.

"Sire," said I, "permit me first—"

He turned on me with such a look that I ventured no more parley; and sad at heart, wondering what Ludar would think of me for not coming to him, and wishing this cursed sea-fight was at an end, I went to the hold for biscuits and a bottle of water, and, with no better armour than this, crawled miserably aloft.

Little I guessed what a revenge I was to have on the Dons before my three days were over!

For a while, not a little of my pleasure in seeing her Majesty's ships on the right side of the wind was lost by this untoward accident. And since the wind freshened increasingly during the day, and the Channel in those Straits is wickedly rough, I was soon too ill and out of humour to think of anything at all. I had more than one mind to venture an escape, and perhaps swim to the French coast. Yet, so long as Ludar was on the ship, I could not do it; and he in his grandee's quarters was as close a prisoner from me as if he had still been in the Tower.

I was growing tired of the Invincible Armada, and thought with longing of the snug parlour in the printing house without Temple Bar, where I had sat of old, listening to the music of a certain sweet voice which now seemed all but lost to me in the howling of winds and booming of guns and grinding of Spanish teeth.

Where now was she, and that fair maiden whom Ludar loved? What hope were there of our ever meeting or hearing of one another's fate?

The night passed, and as Sunday dawned, I could see the English ships still hovering not far to rearward; while across, toward the English coasts, shone many white sails, as of the greater Queen's ships returning to join the fleet.

The wind slackened, so that the anchorage of the Armada, which had been sore strained in the night, held good; and with the French town so close on their flank, I thought, despite their loss of the wind, they rode safely enough where they were, and would have leisure to say mass and celebrate their popish rites without fear of disturbance that Sunday.

So it fell out. All day long bells sounded instead of cannons, and instead of powder the smoke of incense rose to where I perched. Moreover, I could guess, by the merry laughter which now and then came the same way, that their Don-ships were in better heart than yesterday. Perchance the Duke of Parma was already on his way.

As for the English, they lay quietly in their moorings, sparing powder and shot too, and, as it seemed, ready to wait on the Spaniard for the next move.

Towards nightfall, I seemed to detect a stir in their quarters; and presently some seven or eight moderate sized craft fell out of the line, and, with sails set, bore down our way. I marvelled very much that if an attack was to be made, it should be left to ill-armed craft like these to make it, while the greater ships hung idle at a distance. But I supposed it was but a device to take off the Spaniard's notice from something else, and waited curiously to see the result.

They came leisurely towards us, those eight ugly craft, about a cable length apart, steering towards the very centre of our line. As they approached night fell rapidly. But still they held on. I could see their lights hoisted one by one, and strained my ears to catch the first sound of a shot.

Strange to say, they saved their powder. The last I saw of them, as night closed in, they were bearing down full in the wind, each with his cock-boat in tow, within a gunshot's distance of the centre of our line. One of the Spaniards there gave them a disdainful shot, by way of challenge; but they gave never an answer.

Then, all of a sudden, there was a flare, and a roar of flame which leapt up and lit the heavens; and eight blazing vessels drifted full into the middle of the Invincible Armada.

Never shall I forget the scene that followed. There was a moment of bewilderment and doubt; then a hurried random shot or two; then, as the burning masses, spreading before the wind, scattered their fires within the lines, a mighty shout, a rush of footsteps on deck, a hacking of cables and running of chains, a frantic hauling round into the wind; and then, amid panic cries, the galleons of Spain swung round, and, huddled together with tails turned, stood out for sea.

The glare of the English fire-ships lit up the sea like a lake of hell, and amidst the roar of the flames, and the yells of the Spaniards, might be heard the crashing of bowsprits and tumbling of masts, as galleon ran into galleon in the race for safety. A few of them took fire from the English fire-ships; some blew up; others, stove in by their own consorts, foundered miserably; some went ashore on the shallows; but most got into the wind and fled for their lives out of the Straits.

The Rata, being last of the line, escaped with little hurt; for all the vessels ahead of her had cleared off before she got under weigh.

That was a merry night for me up in my perch. I hallooed and cheered, and shouted "God save the Queen!" till I was hoarse. I jeered the King of Spain, and hooted his men. No one heard me; but it did me good.

When day broke, there we were, the glorious Armada, like a scared flock of sheep, six miles away from Calais, looking round at one another with white faces, and counting the cost of that night's fireworks. A few charred hulks drifting in the distance were all that were left of the terrible brands which had routed the Don from his beauty sleep; while many a disabled galleon on our side told of the panic they had caused. Like sheep, at a safe distance, the Spaniards swung round cautiously to face the danger that had passed; and a cry presently arose, not unmingled with shame, of "Back to Calais!"

But the cunning Englishmen had risen too early in the morning to permit that. Already their sails crowded the western horizon and, as we lay in a long crooked line, waiting the Admiral's signal to beat up again for our lost anchorage, down they bore upon us—half of their sail swooping on the right of our line, the other half on the left.

Then followed the biggest battle of all that great sea-fight. For, taking us on either flank, the Englishmen, coming for the first time to close quarters, huddled our ships in towards the centre, sending us one on the top of the other, so that for every ship they sank by their own shot, another went down, stove in by her next neighbour. Where I was, the smoke was soon so dense that I could see but little clearly. More than once, I know, the Rata was in the thick of the fight, pounding away at the Englishmen, and receiving broadside after broadside in return, which crashed against the hull and shook me where I hung at the mast-head. The sails round me were riddled with shot, and once or twice I, coming suddenly into view, became a special target for the enemy's marksmen.

Little cared I! For at every shot that day the banner of Spain tottered lower and lower to its fall, and the flag of old England spread wider and more proudly in the breeze!

Presently, I remember, an English ship named the Vanguard, slipped suddenly in betwixt the Rata and another tall Spaniard, so close that we swung there all three together, with our yards entangled, and blazing away at one another, till I wondered if there could be a man left alive below.

As for me, up where I was, I thanked Heaven that the smoke around me rose in clouds and hid me. As it was, many a bullet, shot at random, whizzed through the cords to which I clung, and once a great booming shot tore away the streamer at the mast-head. But so busy were all down below that no one troubled himself to look for the skulker aloft, who sat there, as it seemed, above the clouds, not even knowing, as the day wore on, whether the Rata still belonged to the King of Spain or to her glorious Majesty.

Suddenly, hard by, I heard a loud shout, and looking round, saw, on the yard-arm of the Englishman's ship, a smoke-bedimmed fellow, with his knife betwixt his lips, crawling towards where, at every lurch, the pole on which I squatted swung across his own. I was in a sore strait when I saw him. For how could I fight against my Queen? Yet, if I let him and the fellows that swarmed up the tackle after him pass, what of my debt of honour to the King of Spain?

The matter was settled for me; for, perceiving me as we swung together, the fellow made a wild grab at me, and, slashing with his knife at the hand by which I clung to the mast, forced me to quit my hold, and clutch at him instead. Then, as I did so, the masts swung asunder, and, lo and behold, I was no longer on the Rata, but a prisoner of my own Queen.

I made a dash to spring back to the Spanish ship, but it was too late. The Don was already hauling off, and every moment the gap between him and the English ship became wider. Half-a-dozen stout British hands held me fast, and as many blades at my breast warned me that the game was up.

"Hands-off, comrades!" I shouted; "I am an Englishman."

At that they laughed, and bade me say my prayers, for my hour was come, and they had other work on hands.

"God save her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, and curse the King of Spain!" cried I.

Then one or two of them stared round, and cursed me for a Jesuit.

"I am no Jesuit, but a London 'prentice lad," said I, "and have broken heads better than yours for my Queen before now, as I will prove to any two of you that like, even here."

This pleased them better, and they bade me, as I loved my Queen, take a musket and slay them the first Spaniard I could spy on the enemy's deck.

"Give me the gun," said I, with a laugh, "and bullets enough for every dog of them."

At that moment the smoke below me drifted, so that I could just espy, as in a frame of cloud, a little spot on the deck of the Rata, where stood a man. He was tall like a giant. The tawny hair waved carelessly in the wind. He carried no weapon, but leaned with both hands heavily on the rail, like a man wounded, and his face, when he turned it, was pale. There was a grim smile on his lips as he watched the panic- stricken sailors hauling off their ship; and once he turned and looked up, not at me, but at where I had been.

"Fire!" shouted the men at my side, "or we strike."

I dropped the gun into the waves below, and with a mighty lump in my throat, whipped out my knife and waited for what should follow.

They fell back amazed at my madness, and, while they consulted what to do with me, I took my chance to grip the first of them by the throat and swing him off his perch.

At that moment a shrill whistle came up from below.

"You are wanted on deck, comrade," said I; "will you go down by the mast, or a shorter way?"

"The mast," he gasped.

So I had my way, and we all went below together.

The English captain—one Admiral Winter—swore roundly when he saw me; and, when he heard my story, said he had bellies enough to fill without a great hulk of a fellow like me to eat more. And he promised me, if he caught me idle at my work, he would trip me by the heels himself. Whereat I thanked him and went forward.

But I was in doleful dumps. For I had lost my friend—perhaps for ever.

"Come, haul away, land lubber that thou art," cried a voice at my side. Looking round, whom should I see but that same Will Peake, the mercer's man of London Bridge, with whom I had had so many a merry bout in times past.

He was too busy just then to do aught but grin in my face and bid me haul away. For the other Spanish ship had fared worse than the Rata, and was already heeling over on her side.

"Haul away, you hulking lubber," yelled Will, "or she'll be on her beam- ends before we are clear."

So, for five minutes, we and a parcel of other fellows worked might and main to cut away tackle and clear ourselves of the doomed galleon, which settled over farther and farther, showing her whole broadside from gunwale to keel, and blazing despairingly heavenward with her guns.

"Why not give her a broadside to help her over?" asked one who worked near.

"Because," said Will, wisely, "we have no shot left to do it."

"What!" I asked, "are we in such a plight as that?"

"'Tis true," said Will; "I heard it from the gun officer an hour ago. And not only are we at an end, but so is all her Majesty's fleet."

"Then we are lost!" I said.

"No doubt," replied he. "Yet we had merry sport with the Don while it lasted; and methinks he will run a bit without our help, before he find out that we fight him with one arm bound."

So it turned out. The fight dragged on through the afternoon, and ship after ship of the King of Spain went to her doom, or drifted helplessly on the mud banks of Gravelines. But the English fire dropped shorter and shorter; and as evening closed (had the enemy but known it!) we had scarce a broadside left among us.

Yet Heaven remembered us in our extremity. For no sooner had our guns become mute than the south wind came down on us with a burst, catching us in the small of our backs, and sending the Don away in front of us, staggering and reeling seaward, for his very life.

'Twas a sad spectacle for me. I had long since lost sight of the Rata. In vain I scanned the smoke-laden horizon for a sight of her. I never saw her more. I could fancy Ludar stalking the deck, or scaling the masts wildly, in search of me; and then, when he found me not, with the cloud deep on his noble brow, crawling to his berth in the dark to tell himself that I was dead.

I wished that night he could have thought it truly!

Will Peake, when the work of the day was done, was in vast great humour to find me of the ship's company. He had scarce known me at first, so changed was I by the perils of the last weeks. A score or more of swashbuckling 'prentices were on board the ship, he said; and, presently, when I saw them all, and heard their jests, and knocked some of their heads together, I could have believed myself in Cheapside. Having been some two weeks on board, they were mightily proud of their seamanship, and delighted to call me (who had sailed as many seas as they had ponds), landlubber.

However, it mattered not, and we spent a merry night—at least they did—scudding before the wind, and watching the Spanish lanthorns rocking uneasily in the darkness a mile ahead of us.

When daylight came, there they were in a long disorderly line, never looking back, with canvas set, and still running. Some of our ships hung close on their heels, like dogs at a flying ox; but scarce a shot boomed, and never a tack did the Dons slack off their northward course.

As for us, there were two good reasons why we, on the Vanguard, should not keep up the chase. We had neither shot to fire nor food to eat. When I came forward that morning to receive my morsel of biscuit with the rest, I understood how ill-pleased Master Winter had been to see another hungry body on board his ship. Even yesterday, as we had helped the bodies of the brave fellows who had fallen for their Queen overboard, it was plain to see that there was something of consolation joined to the pity we all felt for our lost comrades; and the sight of my beggarly rations when I received them made it clear what that consolation was.

So when, after a day's chase, the word was given to put about, and beat up for Margate Roads, scarce a man among us had the stomach to grumble.

'Twas a long, dismal voyage that, in the face of the tempest—with short and tedious tacks that sometimes left us at the day's end little nearer our haven than at the beginning. And long before Margate was reached half of our company was sick with famine.

I think as brave as any men who fought in that great sea-fight were the few fellows of Will Peake's sort who kept up heart and spirit on that sorry voyage back to Margate. I know I myself had been tempted often enough to give over but for his cheery word in my ear; and if half the crew remained loyal to their captain till we reached land, Master Winter owed it not a little to his 'prentice-sailors. As for me, I was plague- stricken before we passed the Thames mouth, and when at last we dropped anchor in Margate Roads, Will told me he doubted whether I was worth the lifting ashore.

Yet he did as much for me and more. He nursed me like my own brother, and when, a week or two later, I was able to stand on my feet and set one foot before another Londonwards, I owed it to him that I found myself at last once more in the great city, and had life left in me to look round and know where I stood.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

HOW I ENLISTED ON A NEW SERVICE.

London was merry-making, with bonfires and pealing of bells, when Will Peake and I entered it. Every day that passed, men took in more of the great victory which had been gained against the King of Spain, and rejoiced louder and louder at the deliverance God had vouchsafed the land.

So, when it became known (as it soon did among our old friends), that Will and I had fought in that glorious fight, we lacked neither food nor shelter for our poor bodies. At first Will fared better than I; for he was monstrous little altered from the swaggering lad who tried a bout with me years before at Finsbury Fields. But as for me, men looked once, twice, and thrice at me before they would believe it was Humphrey Dexter. And when one day in a tavern I came upon a mirror I learned the cause. My beard, unkempt now for many weeks, had grown till it made my face look very fierce and manly; and my hair, once close-cropped, now fell heavily below my ears. And the scar I got on the Rata gave me so ferocious a look that I had a mind well-nigh to doubt myself, when first I saw it.

"'Tis little wonder if they know thee not," said Will, "for thou art passably handsome now, whereas once—"

Here he left me to guess what I had been.

Be that as it may, I was pleased enough with the change for so far, and spared my fee to the barber. And as for my old comrades, I had other signs to make myself known to them, as they soon discovered by the aching of their heads and the soreness of their ribs. For I soon shook off my sickness and was as ready for knocks as ever.

Yet you may guess if, with it all, I was merry!

The printing-house without Temple Bar was as black and desolate as a tomb, with a great lock belonging to the Stationers' Company hanging on the door. When I asked the neighbours concerning my master, they pulled long faces and told me he was given over to desperate ventures, and with his family had fled the country; and 'twas well for him, said they, no one knew where he hid.

I knew not which way to turn. My sweet Jeannette was far away amid perils I little dreamed of. Ludar was, perhaps, even now a prisoner in Spain. My occupation was gone, and my pocket and my stomach were both empty.

Could I have lived on naught, I think I should even have tried to make my way to Spain (as if it were no bigger a place than Temple Gardens!) and so find Ludar. Then I changed my mind and thought to set out for Ireland to seek Jeannette. Then, when I saw a fellow enlisting troopers for the Dutch wars, I well-nigh sold myself to him.

I might have done so straight out, had not there come a loud thump on my back as I stood in the crowd, and a voice in my ear that made me start.

"Are you so weary of life, comrade, that you want a leaden pill or two to cure it?"

"Verily, I am," said I, wheeling round and facing Tom Price, Captain Merriman's man.

At first he knew me not, nor when I told him my name would he believe he spake to Humphrey Dexter. But when at last he knew me, he clapped me again on the back and said—

"Thou'rt well met, my little Lord Mayor. By my soul, I might have walked a league and never met thee."

"You might have walked farther than that," said I. "What villainy are you and your master now upon? for I take it you still serve the Captain?"

He laughed. "As for my master, let him be. He's snug enough. I left him— Look you here, comrade," said he, taking my arm and looking hard at me, "where saw I thee last?"

"Once when you lay as drunk as a dog in Finsbury Fields. And a good turn you did me, comrade, and more than me, by what you blabbed then."

He gaped rather foolishly at this, and asked did I want my ears slit for a noisy malapert?

Then I told him just what passed, and how I had been able thereby to save the maiden from the Captain's clutches. When he heard that he laughed, and swore and thwacked me on the back till I nearly dropped.

"By my life, you gallows dog you, if my master only knew what he owed you! Why, my pretty lad, I never saw a man so put about as he was when he came back from Canterbury that time without his prey."

"Where is he now?" I asked.

"Where else, do you suppose, but smacking his lips near the dove's nest? He hath comforted himself for all he hath suffered, ere now, I warrant thee!"

"What!" I shouted. "Has he followed the maiden to Ireland?"

He laughed.

"So, then, you know where the pretty one has flown? I warrant thee, if thou couldst see her at this moment, thou wouldst see my master not a bow-shot away. Ha! ha! I do not say nearer; for when I left, the fair vixen still held him at arm's length. But he is getting on; and now, since the maid's lover is dead—"

"He is not dead," said I; "I parted from him scarce a month ago!" And I told him where and how.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"A fig for his life if that be his case," said he. "At any rate he is believed to be dead; and the Captain, as I say, is getting on, having made himself monstrous civil to Turlogh Luinech O'Neill, who, I think, favours him somewhat for a son-in-law."

"The foul dog!" I exclaimed. "Would I had him standing here, for my friend's sake. Tell me, Tom, what of a little maid who went from London as waiting gentlewoman to the lady. How fares she?"

"Sadly, I hope, since she and I are parted," said he. "For, to tell you the truth, Master Dexter, she is the sweetest wench and hath looked kindly on me. Indeed, 'twas for this reason I think my master sent me off here on this business to get him more men. For he is apt to amuse himself, while he waits for the mistress, with the maid; and I doubt when I return I shall find the little witch hath clean forgotten how to smile on me."

I hope I may be forgiven the words I uttered when I heard this. I flew at honest Tom Price like a wolf and cried: "Why, what mean you, hound? What does he dare to do?"

Tom shook me off roughly, and pulled out his sword.

"Look 'ee here, Master Humphrey, if that be the way you ask your questions, your ribs shall know the way I answer them."

"I ask your pardon," said I, panting hard. "But for God's mercy say what all this means?"

"It means," said he, "that you are mightily concerned with this same little waiting lass."

"She is my sweetheart," said I, "and is to be my wife."

It was his turn to look blank now, and catch his breath. He whistled, and stared at me from head to foot, and whistled again. Then he found words, and held out his hand.

"If she be thy sweetheart, she is none of mine. I go halves with no man."

"And this Merriman?" I asked, scarce heeding what he said.

"This Merriman!" said he; "why, take a shame on yourself that you stand skulking here, and leave the defence of those two fair maids to a crack- brained poet and a swashbuckling soldier. I tell you, Humphrey Dexter, those two fellows, little as I love them, are your friends and your master's; and, if the maids be still safe, they owe it to them, and not to your idle whimpering here."

"Heaven bless them!" said I. "But, Tom Price, how can I, who have scarce shoes to stand in, or food for one day, go to them?"

"This way," said he; "I am here to engage men for my master's troop— join us."

"What!" I exclaimed; "serve that villain? I had as soon serve the devil himself."

"May be you can serve both at one time," said he, with a laugh; "but join us you must."

"He would hang me at the nearest tree, so soon as he saw me."

"He would never know you. I scarce did."

We stood eyeing one another a minute. Then I held out my hand.

"When do you start?"

"In two days, if I can find the men by then. Meanwhile, come with me and put your big carcase in a soldier's trappings, and drink health to her Majesty and Captain Merriman."

A week passed before Tom Price got his company together. I chafed and grumbled at every hour that passed. On the day before we set out, I went to show myself in my soldier's bravery to Will Peake, on London Bridge.

"Every man to his taste," said the latter. "I think thee not as fine as thou thinkest thyself. By the way, thou art like to have knocks enough where thou goest, I hear, for news is come that the Spaniards mean to land on Irish shore, and strike at us from that quarter."

This was great news to me; and on every hand I heard it repeated, till, at nightfall, there was something near a panic in London, and orders were given for all troops possible to set out forthwith. Therefore, Tom Price, though his company still wanted a few of its number, bade us be within call and ready spurred at daybreak.

The road from London to Chester was full of straggling companies of soldiers, hastened forward like us by the alarm of the Spanish attack on Ireland. We, being mounted, distanced most of them. And so eager were the country folk along the march to see our backs, that, had we been minded to tarry long in any place, we should have soon outworn our welcome.

I saw little of Tom Price during the early part of our march. But when, presently, he had leisure to gossip, he told me one piece of news which moved me not a little.

It was that Sorley Boy, being now an old man and broken down in spirit, longed for his lost son, Sir Ludar, as eagerly as he had hated him not long since. He lived a restless life at Dunluce, often and again stalking abroad as of old, and seeming to expect him who was lost. He had even made friends with Turlogh; and the only time that Captain Merriman had hung his head and slunk out of Castleroe, said Tom, was when the Lord of Dunluce came thither to visit his new ally. So long as he stayed, the Captain found business elsewhere.

Sorley Boy, when at Castleroe, saw the maiden, who, after what had passed, scarcely durst meet him. But by degrees her sweet, brave ways took the old man captive, and, ere he left, he knew her whole story, and loved her as if she were indeed already his daughter.

He well-nigh broke his truce with the O'Neill, because he would not permit the maid to visit Dunluce; for Turlogh (dreading, perhaps, the ill graces of the Captain), would not part with her from Castleroe. So Sorley Boy departed discontented, like a man robbed.

All this I heard, and more than ever chafed at the slackness of our laggard steeds. How I wished that, looking round, I might but see Ludar spurring at my side!

Alas! I saw him not. But one day, as we neared Chester, I did see a face in a troop that had joined ours on the road, that made me rub my eyes, and wonder if ghosts truly walked on earth.

If it was not Peter Stoupe, my old fellow 'prentice, it was as like him as one pea is to another. Nay, once, when, to satisfy myself, I made a pretext to ride near him, I could have sworn I heard the humming of a psalm-tune amid the clatter of the hoofs.

Our troops parted company a day after, and I was left marvelling if all this world and the next were marching towards Ireland.

Early next day I had no leisure left me to cogitate more on that; for Tom Price reined his horse in beside mine, and said:

"Humphrey, here is a message come from the Captain in hot haste, to prevent our going north, and ordering us to Dublin."

I let my reins fall with a groan on my steed's neck. Tom heeded it not, but continued:

"The Spaniard, it is said, has been gathering in the northern seas, and is coming down on the western Irish coast, where he counts on the papists of the country to further him. We are ordered to stay in Dublin for orders from my Lord Deputy. Why, how black you look, comrade!"

"Who would not? You know, Tom Price, why I came on this venture. I were better in London, unless our journey lead us to Castleroe."

Tom laughed, and I could have knocked him from his horse, had he not quickly added:

"Gently, my fire-eating jack printer. I came not to tell thee only this. The Captain addeth these words: 'Send me six trusty men here, for my affairs require such before I am free to join you. Send them forward with all speed. Do you cross leisurely to Dublin, and there await me. I am in hopes it may not be needful for me to return again thither. Send trusty men, and speedily.' What say you, Humphrey? Art thou a trusty lad? Could I trust thee to pick out five honest fellows like thyself and show them the way to a certain pair of black eyes and rosy lips on the banks of the Bann?"

I loved Tom Price like a brother then, and told him as much. In an hour's time I had chosen five stout fellows, all of whom I could trust with my last farthing, and whom I could count on for any service. I had them armed to the teeth, well mounted and provisioned; and then, without a moment lost, called them to horse.

"Farewell, comrade," said Tom, as he saw me go. "I could even envy thee, though it is like to cost thee somewhat. For the Captain hath twenty men already, and hath eyes and ears in his head. Commend me to thy lass, and let her know she hath had a narrow escape of a sweetheart in Tom Price."

"She shall thank you for your honesty, comrade, with her own sweet lips," said I, and hallooed my men forward.

Next day we were at the sea, and embarked—horses and all—on a barque that was even then weighing anchor with other troops on board for Knockfergus.

To my surprise, among the men that crowded the deck was the fellow I had seen two days ago, who had reminded me of Peter Stoupe. When I saw him now, I knew for certain it was he.

I stood full in front of him, to see if he would know me again, for I cared not if he did. He looked at me meekly without a sign of recognition, and humming ever, passed his eyes to some other place.

"So, so, Peter," thought I, "as you know not your old shopmate, why should I disturb your humming?"

And I carelessly asked a man who stood next him whither his company was bound and on what service.—

"Westward," he said, "to look for Spaniards. And you?"

"To join one Captain Merriman in the north."

It tickled me much to see Peter start and change colour at that.

"Ah, 'tis a brave gallant, I'm told," said the man. "'Twas he slew Sorley Boy's son, was it not?"

"Ay, a brave deed that was," said I. "I saw it."

The fellow laughed.

"You know him, then? Ha! ha! You can satisfy Peter here better than I can. He desireth to know the Captain's whereabouts; and when I tell him he is no further off than the nearest pretty face, he turneth up his eyes as if he expected to see him at his own side. He! he! What say you, Peter?"

"I say, alack that such men should wear her Majesty's colours," said he, with a snivel.

"Amen to that," said I, giving him a thwack on the back that made him jump. "'Tis a pity her Majesty hath not more like you, Peter. How do you call your name?"

"Stoupe," said he, looking up at me meekly and rubbing his shoulder.

After that we went to look to our horses, and I saw little more of him that voyage; for from the moment we put out to sea he fell as sick as a dog, and lay on the floor of the ship praying Heaven to put an end to his sorrows, till we reached Knockfergus.

There I suddenly missed him, and heard he had had so sorry a time serving her Majesty thus far, that he had skulked so soon as ever the ship came to land, and made for the hills, where no doubt he meant to lie till he could go back the way he had come.

Whereat I laughed, and ordered my men to horse.

At the town gate, much to my vexation, we were met by a guard, who ordered us to report ourselves to the English governor. I had looked to get a fair start of the other troops going west. But now, so far from that, two days passed idle on my hands before I even got audience of the governor, and by that time many companies had started westward. For the panic of the Spanish invasion was very great among the English soldiery at Knockfergus; and every man that could be had was being hurried across the country.

When I saw the governor and told him my orders, he said, shortly: "Captain Merriman has already had orders to go forward to Tyrone's land, and will have left Castleroe before now. You will join him sooner by sea than by land. Be ready to sail three days hence. Till then, leave not the town, but abide at the hostel for further orders."

This was a thunderbolt to me. I knew the Captain well enough to be sure that, if he had indeed left Castleroe, he had either not left it alone or had left worse than desolation behind him. He was too well-known to his comrades in these parts to leave much doubt of that; and when that same night I heard by chance that Turlogh for a month past had been away in Dublin, leaving the protection of his castle to this English champion of his, I made sure, what I had feared all along, that I was come too late.

One thing I was resolved on. Come what would, I would make for Castleroe and learn the worst for myself. 'Twould be better even to be hanged for a deserter than live a day longer in this misery and suspense.

So I bade my men, if they were minded still to serve me, be ready and stand by for the first chance of escape.

It came soon enough. Bands of soldiers were coming in and going out of Knockfergus all the night long; and while we sat in the hostelry and watched them depart with longing eyes, like prisoners through a dungeon cage, I suddenly found myself calling myself a fool and starting to my feet.

"Follow me," I cried to my men, and led them to where our horses stood, still saddled, in the stable.

"Mount," I said, "and stay under the shadow of this wall, till you see me ride out. Then fall in quietly at my heels."

Presently, as we stood there, came a noise of trumpets and a clatter of hoofs down the steep street. As they passed, we could see by the torches of those that marched beside them that this was a great company of foot and horse, dragging a gun or two with them. 'Twas more of a rabble than a troop; for the horses, frightened by the glare of the torches and the shouts of the footmen, reared and plunged, and scattered the townsfolk who had turned out to see them pass, right and left.

As they passed the corner where we lurked, some of the horses plunged in among us, and in the darkness all was confusion for a moment.

Then I quietly rode in among them with my five men at my heels, and so, unseen and unheeded, we joined the troop and passed the gate in safety into the black country beyond.

Once outside, 'twas easy enough to get clear. I bade my men lag behind all they could; till at last we must have dropped fifty yards or so, where, in the darkness, we were quite lost to view. Then I gave the order to gallop; and overtaking the company, as in hot haste, I rode up to the officer and saluted.

"A good journey to you, Captain," said I. "'Twill be slower than ours, for the troop we are to join is already beyond the Bann, and we ride post-haste to overtake it."