It was a fair morning in the January of the year Wonderful, or Admirable year, as it had been forenamed by Doctor Dee, and other knowing astrologers, that two cavaliers, mounted on gallant steeds, rode up to the Strand entrance to Durham House, and there alighted. The taller of the two, and, it may be said, the senior also, then stepped up to the door, and inflicted thereon a loud rap. His summons was promptly answered, and a servant, who appeared uncapped at the door, inquired his business.

“I would see Sir Walter Raleigh, an’ he be within,” replied the taller cavalier.

“Will it please your worship to advertise me of your name,” answered the servant.

“Master Hildebrand Clifford, of his worship’s cruizer, the ‘Eliza,’” rejoined the cavalier.

“His worship will be heartily glad to see thee, Sir,” said the servant. “An’ it please thee, prithee follow me to his presence.”

Hildebrand and his companion, who was no other than Don Rafaele, immediately entered the house, and were led by the servant to the library. There, agreeably to a premonition of the servant, they found Sir Walter Raleigh.

As they presented themselves in the doorway, and Sir Walter’s eyes, glancing thitherwards, caught a glimpse of their features, he sprang to meet them, and caught Hildebrand by both his hands.

“My right trusty Clifford,” he cried, “give thee a hearty welcome home! I need not inquire of thy health; for ’tis manifest in thy face.”

“An’ the face offer such credible testimony, I have a fair assurance of thine, Sir Walter,” said Hildebrand. “But,” he added, with a smile, “wert thou ever so ailing, I have news for thee would make thee right merry.”

“The matter! the matter!” cried Sir Walter, eagerly.

“We have brought home with us a fair galleon,” answered Hildebrand, “and, among other choice freights, she hath aboard of her, under a goodly guard, five hundred bars of gold, of the esteemed worth of thirty thousand doubloons.”

As Hildebrand thus briefly made known the successful result of his voyage, Sir Walter’s face became brighter and more bright at each word. So great was his joy, and, as it appeared afterwards, his surprise, that for a brief space he could not speak, and it was only by the sparkle of his eyes that Hildebrand became sensible of his gratification. In a moment or two, however, he recovered himself, and gave his sentiments utterance.

“Fair befall thee, my noble Clifford, for thy news,” he said; “and, to requite it, mayst thou never hear ill tidings thyself! Albeit I had a brave hope of thee, I looked not that thy report should bear such an excellent complexion. Sooth to speak, indeed, I had begun to fear thee lost.”

“I fear me, the chartered bark, which was designed to be mine abettor, is lost of a verity,” observed Hildebrand.

“Not so,” answered Sir Walter, smiling. “She hath returned safe, but hath been seized by the creditors. On reaching Roanoke, she was advised of thy visit and departure; and thereupon, having no hope of rejoining thee, came straight back. But who is this brave friend of thine, Master Clifford?”

“I’faith, Sir,” returned Hildebrand, “I may say, with a friend of thine, in one of his right famous plays, ‘thereby hangs a tale.’ He hath come with me from Cadiz, his native city; and I beseech thee, if my poor commendations can win him thy favour, to look upon him graciously; for I hold him even as myself.”

“No more,” said Sir Walter. “I would be friends with him.”

And, so speaking, he caught up Don Rafaele’s hand, and clasped it cordially.

“Fair Senhor, I give thee welcome to England!” he said, in Spanish. “While thou art here, beseech thee, as thou wouldst do me a courtesy, to make thy stay in my house.”

“I thank you, Senhor,” answered Don Rafaele, in a low voice.

Sir Walter was about to address him further, when Hildebrand, with more abruptness than his wont, interposed.

“I have another matter to tell thee of, Sir Walter,” he said, “which requires to be considered with all despatch.”

“What may it be?” inquired Sir Walter.

“There is a great expedition on foot at Cadiz,” answered Hildebrand, “and, as I am advised, in all the other ports of Spain; and men report (I know not how truly) ’tis designed against England. Moreover, the ambassador at Madrid has been placed in durance.”

“This is strange news, indeed,” observed Sir Walter. “How wast thou advertised of it?”

Hildebrand, in a few comprehensive words, informed him, by way of reply, how he had been arrested in Cadiz, and, without going into particulars, of his dialogue on that occasion with Don Felix di Corva. Sir Walter heard him to an end with the deepest interest, when, without a moment’s pause, he announced his intention of repairing instantly to the palace, and communicating his intelligence to the Queen.

“Thou must with me,” he added to Hildebrand. “Thy friend, who must be mine also henceforth, can tarry our return here.”

Don Rafaele, on being made acquainted with the proposition, and the fact that they were about to wait on the Queen, readily agreed to tarry there till they should return; and, at the same time, suggested that, if their business required despatch, Sir Walter could make use of his horse, which, as it was still saddled at the door, would prevent any delay. Sir Walter embraced his offer, and, together with Hildebrand, thereupon took leave of Don Rafaele, and departed. On reaching the exterior of the house, they paused only to commend Don Rafaele to the care of the servant, and then, with a prompt spring, mounted their horses, and set out for the palace.

Putting their horses to a brisk pace, they shortly arrived at that structure. They found, however, on inquiry, that the Queen was then in council, and, consequently, was not likely to grant them an audience. But Sir Walter, notwithstanding this, insisted that his message should be conveyed to her; and Sir Ferdinand Georges, to whom his communication was made, and who was the officer attending on the council, ultimately undertook to be its bearer.

Sir Walter waited the Queen’s answer with some impatience. At last (and, to say the truth, before very long), Sir Ferdinand returned, and informed him that the Queen would not see him till she rose from the council.

“I must even ask thee to seek her Highness once more, then, worthy Sir Ferdinand,” answered Sir Walter; “and advise her, that what I have to deliver withal is of exceeding moment, and involves the honour, safety, and welfare of her crown.”

“On such a message, Sir Walter, I dare not pause,” answered Sir Ferdinand. “Though it should bring me to the block, I will even advise her thereof.”

So answering, he turned away, and repaired once more to the Queen. While our two friends were speculating on the result of his mission, he reappeared, and, in a low voice, summoned Sir Walter to appear before the council.

Sir Walter entered the council-chamber with a firm step, and, making a low bow, advanced to the Queen’s chair, when he dropped gracefully on one knee, at her feet.

“Rise, Sir Walter Raleigh,” said the Queen, graciously. “We have received thy most alarming message; and as it comes from thee, whom we know to be wise above most men, and, withal, a right loyal gentleman, we may say truly, it is alarming.”

“Not less so than your Highness conceives,” answered Raleigh. “I am informed, from a sure quarter, that the Spaniard is preparing to invade us.”

An exclamation of surprise broke from several of the council.

“This news finds us unprepared,” observed the Queen. “Let a messenger be despatched for my Lord Burleigh.”

While Secretary Herbert, who sat nearest to the door, sprang to obey her injunction, the Queen resumed.—

“Whence derivedst thou these tidings, Sir Walter?” she asked.

“From the captain of my expedition to America, my liege,” answered Sir Walter. “He hath just returned, after capturing, with only one poor ship, a rich galleon, laden to the brim with Spanish gold.”

“By my troth, I give thee joy!” exclaimed the Queen, with sparkling eyes. “Let this brave adventurer, whoever he be, attend us at his convenience, and”——

While she was yet speaking, the chamber-door was thrown open, and Lord Burleigh, leaning on a crutch, and bearing in one hand a capacious green bag, appeared in the doorway.

All eyes were turned on the aged nobleman as he entered the chamber, and, with a slow and tottering step, advanced to his seat. His countenance, always grave, was now unusually dark and heavy, and seemed to intimate that he also was the bearer of important tidings. The Queen only replied to his bow with a smile, and all waited his first words in silent but eager expectation.

He did not keep them waiting long. On gaining his seat, he paused only to turn an inquiring glance on Sir Walter Raleigh, and then, in a grave tone of voice, proceeded to deliver himself.

“I met your Grace’s messenger on the stair,” he said, addressing the Queen. “I should have attended the council afore; but I was stayed, as I was mounting to my litter, by a courier from Madrid.”

“The news?” cried the Queen, anxiously.

“A scandal to Christendom!” exclaimed Burleigh. “Your Grace’s ambassador, Master Mason, had been placed under restraint, and was only just released. Further, a large armada, numbering one hundred and thirty ships of war, was preparing to invade your Highness’s realm. The ordering and force of the armada hath been boastingly set down in a book, as if it were above resistance; and certes, an’ we rely only on our earthly means, we are as Ichabod, and our glory hath departed. The courier”—here he put his hand into his large green bag, and drew forth a small book—“hath brought over one of these books, and I here offer it for your Grace’s inspection.”

The Queen, as he ceased speaking, eagerly caught up the book, and, drawing it open, glanced anxiously at its contents. As she turned hastily from page to page, the council watched the changing expressions of her countenance with the deepest earnestness; and for nearly half an hour, during which she never once looked up, or removed her eyes from the book, maintained the most profound silence. At length, the Queen laid the book down, and, in a somewhat agitated voice, broke the protracted pause.

“As the Lord liveth, we must to arms straight!” she cried. “Antichrist is up; and our fair realm, which hath been his greatest eyesore, is to be his first victim. The force is a hundred and thirty ships, commanded by the Marquis of Santa Cruz, who, we all know, is reputed both brave and skilful. Admiral Paliano, Don Amadius of Savoy, Don John of Medicis, the Duke of Medina Sidonia, the Duke of Sabionetta, with many others, the most renowned lords and princes of Spain and Italy, have a part in the expedition. Twenty thousand men, under that bloody man, the Duke of Parma, join it from Flanders. And—which shows its devilish origin—the Pope lays on its standard his most solemn benediction.”

As she ceased speaking, the several members of the council broke into various exclamations, which revealed, in distinct and forcible colours, both their surprise and their concern; but not one of them displayed the least indecision. Glancing hastily at their respective faces, the Queen seemed, by a sudden change in her demeanour, to derive from them a new confidence, which made her naturally stout heart even more determined, and put all her fears and apprehensions to flight.

“We must discuss this matter anon,” she said, after a pause. “Meantime, let each of you, in your several departments, ascertain our means and capabilities of defence, and be prepared promptly to settle what order and provision can be made in that regard. My Lord Burleigh, be it your business to summon together the Parliament. To-night, at nine of the clock, I will meet you all here again.”

“Before we take our leaves, my liege,” said Lord Burleigh, “it were advisable, methinks, that a measure should be resolved on for delivering these heavy tidings to your loyal people. Shall it be done by proclamation?”

There was a brief pause, when the Queen, in a happy spirit of invention, directed that the intelligence should be dispersed abroad through the medium of a public journal, to be published periodically; and which, at a merely nominal charge, should put the people in possession of every particular. The council unanimously approved of the project; and thus, at the dictation of the great princess, arose the first idea of an English newspaper.

As this grave and important point was settled, the Queen, happening to look on one side, let her glance fall on Sir Walter Raleigh, and she thereupon called that personage forward.

“We owe thee some thanks,” she said, “yet will we not pay thee now. We will see thee anon, when thou shalt deliver to us, as largely as thou canst, the several particulars of thy late expedition. Meantime, give thee farewell!”

Sir Walter caught up her proffered hand, and, with a lowly and graceful bow, raised it to his lips. He then bowed to the council, and retired.

He found Hildebrand without, looking anxiously for his return. Nevertheless, before he informed him how his intelligence respecting the Spanish armada had been confirmed, and what measures were meditated in consequence, he led him down the contiguous stairs, and brought him forth from the palace. There, being no way pledged to secrecy, he briefly acquainted him with all that had taken place at the council-board.

Hildebrand heard him to an end without interruption, when he suggested that, as he had yet a great deal to learn from him, and much to tell him, they had better ride off to the ships, at Deptford; and they would then be able to converse freely on their way. Sir Walter agreed to his proposal, and, accordingly, without further discussion, they mounted their horses, and set off in the direction of Deptford.

As they rode along, Hildebrand inquired anxiously after his friends the Nevilles, and how they had fared, subsequent to his departure for America, in their suit with the Government. Sir Walter’s reply called up in his bosom the most discordant and conflicting feelings. If the picture it presented of the sufferings of Sir Edgar, under the mortifications and indignities that he had been subject to, excited his indignation, he was moved to a softer sympathy by its detail of the patience, fortitude, and filial devotion of the incomparable Evaline. Nor was he indifferent to the favourable mention that was made of Bernard Gray, though, as Sir Walter’s knowledge of that person was limited, and derived only from the grateful remarks of Evaline, he was spoken of but briefly. He was silent for a short time after Sir Walter had put him in possession of the several particulars of the transaction, when he delivered himself at large.

“I do heartily admire Mistress Evaline’s dutiful bearing,” he said. “Of a verity, she hath a store of notable good qualities, and very excellent virtues. More have I never noted in any one maiden, in England or elsewhere. But, to hear thy tale out, Sir Walter, hast thou had no advice of her since her worshipful father was set at large?”

“I’faith, have I!” answered Sir Walter. “Sir Edgar and she came to me together, on the same day that he was enlarged; and discoursed with me concerning his liberation right familiarly. In especial did they dwell on their obligations to thee, and, as I failed not to confess, not without reason. Further, Sir Edgar did importune me, with many hearty fair words, to speed thee to him on thy return; and, albeit sweet Mistress Neville said not a word, methought she did second his invitation with her sweet looks, whereunto I tendered my whole allegiance.”

Hildebrand sighed. “I will even hold me to the good knight’s invitation with all despatch,” he said.

“Well,” smiled Sir Walter, “I would have thee do no less. But, now that I have made thy heart light (nay, look not at me so grievously amazed), prithee unfold to me at large the particulars of thy late voyage.”

Glad to escape from a subject which he began to think could not be pursued, at the passing moment, without subjecting him to Sir Walter’s raillery, though he could not remember that he had ever laid himself open to such a consequence, Hildebrand readily complied with this request, and proceeded to deliver a succinct history of his voyage. He touched as lightly as possible, however, on his personal adventures, and, in relating what had passed at Cadiz, entirely skipped over the romantic incident of his connexion with Donna Inez, which was, in reality, the liveliest reminiscence that the voyage presented to him. By the time that he had finished his narrative, they arrived at Deptford, and they then made straight for the ships.

They found that Master Halyard, impatient to have a turn ashore, had already begun to unload the galleon. The precious cargo of that vessel was now being raised up, and carted, under a guard of armed seamen, to the Queen’s warehouse. In the course of the day, the whole of the boxes of metal, the most valuable portion of the cargo, were thus secured, and every arrangement made for effecting a perfect clearance. When they had seen matters brought to this satisfactory stage, Sir Walter and Hildebrand, taking a hearty leave of Master Halyard, quitted the ship, and, mounting their horses, returned straight to town.