ng fierce journeyings, no part seemed half so long as the
few minutes it took me to skirt round the fatal bog and reach the hand
of my long-lost friend.

"Humphrey," said he presently, after we had stood silent awhile, "I
scarce knew thee. How rose you from the dead?"

"The God who parted us hath brought us together again," said I. "Thanks
be to Him."

"Amen," said he. "Therefore, while I lead you to the Don--"

"The Don!" cried I; "is he here then?"

"Why not, since the _Rata_ came ashore weeks ago on these coasts?"

"And are the Spaniards all here too?" said I, with my hand feeling round
my belt for my sword.

"Nay," said he, smiling. "That is my story. Tell me yours."

So I told him, and he listened, marvelling much. His brow grew black as
thunder when I came to speak of the lost maidens. He wheeled round,
and, laying his hand with a grip of iron on my arm, pointed to the black
bog below us.

"Is it certainly Merriman who lies there?"

"As certain as this is you," said I.

"God forgive him!" said Ludar, and walked on.

Then he told me how, missing me after the battle, and seeing the mast on
which I had perched shot away, he had mourned for me as dead, and, for
my sake, taken a gun with a good-will against my Queen. How, when after
Gravelines the south wind sprang up and the Invincible Armada began to
run, the _Rata_ sailed as rear-guard and bore the brunt of the few
English ships that dogged them. How it was resolved by the Spanish
captains, Don Alonzo himself not protesting, that the shortest way back
to Spain now lay by way of the Orkneys and the Atlantic. How,
thereupon, that glorious fleet trailed in a long draggled line
northward, never looking behind them, even when the Englishmen one by
one drew off and abandoned the chase. How, after a while, when they
looked out one morning they found the _Rata_ staggering through the
stormy northern seas alone.

"'Twas a sad sight," said Ludar. "You would not have known the queenly
vessel we had met scarce a month before off Ushant. Her main-mast clean
gone, her tackle dishevelled as a wood-nymph's hair; with flags and
sails and pennons blown away, guns rusted in their ports, and the very
helm refusing to turn. The bells, all save the dismal storm bell in the
prows, were silent; the priests had crawled miserably to their holes.
No one read aloud the King's proclamation; and even the gallants of
Spain sat limp and listless, looking seaward, neve