ve and except for abetting the rescue of Edward
Devereaux. For that I hope to make my peace with the queen if we meet the
Spaniards."

"Hath their ships been sighted yet, Walter?" asked Edward.

"Nay; but they watch for them hourly as they have been doing for days.
'Twill surely not be much longer till they come."

The summer's sun was casting its lengthening shadows across the quiet
harbor of Plymouth as the little vessel containing the three, Walter
Mildemay, Edward Devereaux, and Francis Stafford, anchored not far from
the town. A boat put off, bearing the three named to the place where they
had been informed Admiral Lord Howard was.

It was the memorable evening of July 19, 1588, and an exciting game of
bowls was being played upon the green back of the Pelican Inn known to
every officer of Her Majesty's navy. Standing round the bowling alley
were a group of men watching the game with interest. Lord Howard of
Effingham, the Lord High Admiral of England; Sir Robert Southwell, his
son-in-law, the captain of the Elizabeth Joncas; Sir Walter Raleigh and
Sir Richard Grenville; Martin Frobisher and John Davis; John Hawkins and
his pupil, Sir Francis Drake, the vice admiral of the fleet.

The three paused as they entered this illustrious group. Sir Walter
Raleigh was the first to spy them.

"Ha, my apt pupil of the sword!" he cried. "Why came you hither?"

"We are come to join the fleet," answered Francis boldly.

"Lord Howard, here be three more volunteers," cried Raleigh. "Verily it
beseems that all of England's sons have come forth for the fight."

"And they have done well," answered the deep voice of the noble admiral.

"'Come the three corners of arms,
And we shall shock them! Nought shall make us rue,
If England to herself do rest but true.'

So says that knave--Will Shakespeare. Edward, thou here again? I thought
the queen held thee in durance?"

"She did, my lord admiral," returned Devereaux. "But think you that I was
to be mewed up like a girl when England had need of me? I trow not!"

"Spoken like a true Englishman, boy, save the slur upon the girl. Know,
Master Edward, that so enthusiastic are women and girls that if we men
wax faint hearted in the strife English women and English maidens will
take up the battle for their country."

"I crave pardon, my lord. Such speech was unworthy an Englishman when the
proof is by his----"

"I am Francis Stafford, my lord," interr