city
had dwindled. Meantime there was an exchange of the most friendly
amenities between the English and their mortal enemies. Hardly a day
passed that La Motte, or Renty, or Aremberg, did not send Lord Derby, or
Cobham, or Robert Cecil, a hare, or a pheasant, or a cast of hawks, and
they in return sent barrel upon barrel of Ostend oysters, five or six
hundred at a time. The Englishmen, too; had it in their power to gratify
Alexander himself with English greyhounds, for which he had a special
liking. "You would wonder," wrote Cecil to his father, "how fond he is of
English dogs." There was also much good preaching among other
occupations, at Ostend. "My Lord of Derby's two chaplains," said Cecil,
"have seasoned this town better with sermons than it had been before for
a year's apace." But all this did not expedite the negotiations, nor did
the Duke manifest so much anxiety for colloquies as for greyhounds. So,
in an unlucky hour for himself, another "fond and vain" old
gentleman--James Croft, the comptroller who had already figured, not much
to his credit, in the secret negotiations between the Brussels and
English courts--betook himself, unauthorized and alone; to the Duke at
Bruges. Here he had an interview very similar in character to that in
which John Rogers had been indulged, declared to Farnese that the Queen
was most anxious for peace, and invited him to send a secret envoy to
England, who would instantly have ocular demonstration of the fact. Croft
returned as triumphantly as the excellent Doctor had done; averring that
there was no doubt as to the immediate conclusion of a treaty. His
grounds of belief were very similar to those upon which Rogers had
founded his faith. "Tis a weak old man of seventy," said Parma, "with
very little sagacity. I am inclined to think that his colleagues are
taking him in, that they may the better deceive us. I will see that they
do nothing of the kind." But the movement was purely one of the
comptroller's own inspiration; for Sir James had a singular facility for
getting himself into trouble, and for making confusion. Already, when he
had been scarcely a day in Ostend, he had insulted the governor of the
place, Sir John Conway, had given him the lie in the hearing of many of
his own soldiers, had gone about telling all the world that he had
express authority from her Majesty to send him home in disgrace, and that
the Queen had called him a fool, and quite unfit for his post. And as