he scholars of a
Jesuit school sometimes passed out for exercise.

For the Papists were under protection of the Spanish forces, and were far
safer than their Protestant neighbours. Spain had always spies on the
watch, and armed men ready in ambush to resent any interference with the
priests or Jesuit schools.

The country was bristling with soldiers, and skirmishes were frequent
between the English and Spaniards. Treachery and secret machinations were
always the tactics of Spain, and the bolder and more open hostility of
Elizabeth's army was often defeated by cunning.

Mary Gifford's expedition to the little town had resulted in
disappointment. With eager eyes and a beating heart she had watched the
boys file out in that back street towards the river, and when the boy
passed whom, at a sign from Humphrey, she was especially to notice, she
turned away. The light of hope died out from her face, as she said,--

'Ah! no, no! That boy is not my Ambrose!'

'He will be changed, whenever you do find him, Mistress Gifford,' Humphrey
said, somewhat unwilling to give up his point. 'Methinks that stripling has
as much likeness to the child of scarce seven years old as you may expect
to find.'

'Nay,' Mary said. 'The eyes, if nought else, set the question at rest. Did
you not note how small and deep-set were the eyes which this boy turned on
us with a sly glance as he passed. My Ambrose had ever a bold, free glance,
with his big, lustrous eyes, not a sidelong, foxy look. Nay, my good
friend, the truth gets more and more fixed in my mind that my child is safe
in Paradise, where only I shall meet him in God's good time.'

'I do not give up hope,' Humphrey said. 'This is certain, that he was at
first at Douay, and that his father took him thence to some hiding-place
in the Netherlands. He may be nearer you than you think. I shall not have
the chance of speaking much to you for some weeks,' Humphrey said. 'It may
be never again, for our great chief, Sir Philip, weary of inaction and sick
at heart by the constant thwarts and drawbacks which he endures, is
consorting with the Count Maurice of Nassau, and both are determined to
capture Axel. The scheme has to be submitted to the Earl of Leicester, and
we only await his assent to prepare for the onset, and, by God's help, we
will take the town. Sir Philip craves for some chance of showing what he
can do. He is crippled for money and resources, and, moreover, the loss of
both his pare