arose, the gentlemen would have to come to order.
There was no room here for old ideas of caste. Any man too good to haul
on a rope might go to--Spain.

Doughty had a way of taking it for granted that Drake and he, as
gentlemen, shared thoughts and feelings not to be comprehended by common
men. On land this had not seemed offensive, but on blue water, with the
old sea-chanteys in his ears, in the intimate association of a long
voyage, Drake found himself resenting it. What was there about the man
that made his arguments so plausible when one heard them, so false when
his engaging presence was withdrawn? And yet how devoted, how
sympathetic, how witty and companionable he could be! Drake found
himself excusing his friend as if he were a woman,--laughed, sighed, and
went to sleep.

Presently he began to hear of John Doughty's amusing himself by reading
palms and playing on the superstitions of the sailors with strange
prophecies, in which his brother sometimes joined. Drake summoned the
two to a brief interview in which Thomas Doughty learned that his friend
on land, frank, boyish and unassuming, was a different person from the
Admiral of the Fleet. Yet as this impression faded, the brothers
perversely went on encouraging discord between the gentlemen adventurers
and the sailors, and foretelling events with sinister aptness.

It grew colder and colder. It should be summer,--but as they crept
southward they encountered cold and wind beyond that of the North Sea in
January. The nights grew long; the battering of the gales never ceased;
the ships lost sight of one another. It was whispered that not only had
the uncanny brothers foretold the evil weather, but Thomas Doughty had
boasted of having brought it about. "We'll ha' no luck till we get rid
of our prophet," said blunt Tom Moone, "and the Lord don't provide no
whales for the likes o' he."

Drake warned his comrade with an ominous quiet. "Doughty," he said, "if
you value your neck you keep your reading and writing to what a common
man can understand--you and your brother. A man can't always prophesy
for himself, let alone other folk."

"You heard what he said," commented Wynter grimly when the Admiral was
in his cabin behind closed doors. "Better not raise the devil unless you
know for sure what he'll do. There's been one gallows planted on this
coast."

"Sneck up!" laughed Doughty, "he would not dare hang a gentleman!" but
he felt a creeping chill at the back of