he chivalrous generosity,
which was one of the legacies of his Plantagenet forefathers, imposed
silence on him for a season.

Elizabeth Tudor had shown much kindness to her kinsman, Sir Arthur
Basset, and while Elizabeth lived, no Basset of Umberleigh would lift a
hand against her. But no such halo surrounded her successor--whoever
that yet doubtful individual might prove to be. So Robert Basset
waited, and bore his humiliation calmly--all the more calmly for the
very pride of blood that was in him: for no slight, no oppression, no
lack of recognition, could make him other than the heir of the
Plantagenets. He would be ready when the hour struck. But meanwhile he
was waiting.

Fleming's news had taken everybody by surprise except one person. But
that one was the Lord High Admiral.

Lord Howard quickly gathered his fleet together, and inquired into its
condition. Many of the ships were poorly victualled; munition ran very
short; not a vessel was to be compared for size with the "great wooden
castles" which Fleming had described. The wind was south-west, and
blowing hard; the very wind most favourable to the invaders.

Sir Edward Hoby, brother-in-law of the Admiral, was sent off to the
Queen with urgent letters, begging that she would send more aid to the
fleet, and put her land forces in immediate readiness, for "the
Spaniard" was coming at last, and as fast as the wind could bring him.

Sir Edward reached Tilbury on the very day chosen by Elizabeth to review
her land forces. He left the fleet making signals of distress; he found
the army in triumphant excitement.

The Queen rode in from Havering on a stately charger--tradition says a
white one--bearing a marshal's staff in her hand, and attired in a
costume which was a singular mixture of warrior and woman,--a corslet of
polished steel over an enormous farthingale. As she came near the
outskirts of her army, she commanded all her retinue to fall back, only
excepting Lord Ormonde, who bore the sword of state before her, and the
solitary page who carried her white-plumed helmet. Coming forward to
the front of Leicester's tent--the Earl himself leading her horse,
bare-headed--the Queen took up her position, and, with a wave of her
white-gloved hand for silence, she harangued her army.

"My loving people,"--thus spoke England's Elizabeth,--"we have been
persuaded, by some that are careful of our safety, to take heed how we
commit ourself to armed multitude