sh standard upon an island
and took possession of the domain in the name of Elizabeth of England.
This island the Indians called Wocoken, and the inlet where the ships
lay, Ocracoke. They went inland as the guests of the native chiefs, and
on the island of Roanoke they were entertained by the people of Wingina
the king, most kindly and hospitably. The sea remained smooth and
pleasant and the air neither very hot nor very cold, but sweet and
wholesome. Manteo and Wanchese, two of the Indian warriors, chose to
sail away with the white men, and in good time the ships returning
reached Plymouth harbor, early in September of that year. Manteo was
made Lord of Roanoke, the first and the last of the American Indians to
bear an English title to his wild estate. The new province was named
Virginia, with the play upon words favored in that day, for it was a
virgin country, and its sovereign was the Virgin Queen.

When the two captains came again to London they found the air full of
the intriguings of Spain. In that year Santa Cruz had organized a plot
against the Queen's life, discovered almost by chance; in that year it
became clear that Philip's long chafing against the growing sea-power of
England and his hatred of such rangers as Drake and Hawkins must sooner
or later blaze up in war. And by chance also Armadas learned how narrow
had been their own escape from a Spanish prison.

He had been the guest of a friend at the acting of Master Lyly's new
masque by the Children of the Chapel at Gray's Inn. Little Tom Poope
sang Apelles's song and ruffled it afterward among the ladies of the
court, as lightly as Essex himself. Armadas came out into the dank
Thames air humming over the dainty verses,--

"'At last he staked her all his arrows.
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows--'"

A small hand slid into his own and pulled him toward a byway.

"Why, how is it with thee, Master Poope? Didst play thy part bravely,
lad."

"Come," said the boy in a low breathless voice. "I have somewhat to tell
thee. In here," and he drew Armadas toward a doorway. "'T is my mother's
lodging--there is nothing to fear."

A woman let them in as if she had been watching for them, opened the
door into a small plainly furnished private room and vanished.

"Art not going on any more voyages to the Virginias?" asked the boy, his
eager eyes on the Captain's face.

"Not for the present, my boy. Why? Wouldst like to sail with us, and
learn mor