here! Philip will prepare for Gloriana a destruction from the West a destruction from the West

far exceeding that which Pedro de Avila wrought upon the Huguenots. And he rests and remains, kissing her feet and her hands, her slave, her enemy, or her conqueror, as he shall find that she uses him.'

She thrust back the letter under her cloak, and went on acting, but in a softer voice. All this while hark to it the wind blows through Brickwall Oak, the music plays, and, with the company's eyes upon her, the Queen of England must think what this means. She cannot remember the name of Pedro de Avila, nor what he did to the Huguenots, nor when, nor where. She can only see darkly some dark motion moving in Philip's dark mind, for he hath never written before in this fashion. She must smile above the letter as though it were good news from her ministers

the smile that tires the mouth and the poor heart. What shall she do?' Again her voice changed.

'You are to fancy that the music of a sudden wavers away. Chris Hatton, Captain of her bodyguard, quits the table all red and ruffled, and Gloriana's virgin ear catches the clash of swords at work behind a wall. The mothers of Sussex look round to count their chicks I mean those young game-cocks that waited on her. Two dainty youths have stepped aside into Brickwall garden with rapier and dagger on a private point of honour. They are haled out through the gate, disarmed and glaring the lively image of a brace of young Cupids transformed into

pale, panting Cains. Ahem! Gloriana beckons awfully - thus! They come up for judgment. Their lives and estates lie at her mercy whom they have doubly offended, both as Queen and woman. But la! what will not foolish young men do for a beautiful maid?'

'Why? What did she do? What had they done?' said Una.

'Hsh! You mar the play! Gloriana had guessed the cause of the trouble. They were handsome lads. So she frowns a while and tells 'em not to be bigger fools than their mothers had made 'em, and warns 'em, if they do not kiss and be friends on the instant, she'll have Chris Hatton horse and birch 'em in the style of the new school at Harrow. (Chris looks sour at that.) Lastly, because she needed time to think on Philip's letter burning in her pocket, she signifies her pleasure to dance with 'em and teach 'em better manners. Whereat the revived company call down Heaven's blessing on her gracious head; Chris and the others prepare Brickwall House for a dance, and she walks in the clipped garden between those two lovely young sinners who are both ready to sink for shame. They confess their fault. It appears that midway in the banquet the elder - they were cousins

conceived that the Queen looked upon him with special favour. The younger, taking the look to himself, after some words gives the elder the lie; hence, as she guessed, the duel.'

'And which had she really looked at?' Dan asked.

'Neither except to wish them farther off. She was afraid all the while they'd spill dishes on her gown. She tells 'em this, poor chicks — and it completes their abasement. When they had grilled long enough, she says: "And so you would have fleshed your maiden swords for me - for me?" Faith, they would have been at it again if she'd egged 'em on! but their swords—oh, prettily they said it! had been drawn for her once or twice already.

""And where?" says she. "On your hobby-horses before you were breeched?"

""On my own ship," says the elder. "My cousin was vice-admiral of our venture in his pinnace. We would not have you think of us as brawling children." "No, no,” says the younger, and flames like a very Tudor rose. "At least the Spaniards know us better." "Admiral Boy Vice-Admiral Babe," says Gloriana, "I cry your pardon. The heat of these present times ripens childhood to age more quickly than I can follow. But we are at peace with Spain. Where did you break your Queen's peace?"

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""On the sea called the Spanish Main, though 'tis no more Spanish than my doublet," says the elder. Guess how that warmed Gloriana's already melting heart! She would never suffer any sea to be called Spanish in her private hearing. "And why was I not told? and where have you hid it?

What booty got you,
Disclose," says she.

"You stand in some danger of the gallows for pirates."

"The axe, most gracious lady," says the elder, "for

we are gentle born." He spoke truth, but no woman can brook contradiction. "Hoity-toity," says she, and, but that she remembered that she was a Queen, she'd have cuffed the pair of 'em. "It shall be gallows, hurdle, and dung-cart if I choose!"

""Had our Queen known of our going beforehand, Philip might have held her to blame for some small things we did on the seas," the younger lisps.

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As for treasure," says the elder,
the elder, "we brought

back but our bare lives. We were wrecked on the Gascons' Graveyard, where our sole company for three months was the bleached bones of De Avila's men."

'Gloriana's mind jumped back to Philip's last

letter.

"De Avila that destroyed the Huguenots? What d'you know of him?" she says. The music called from the house here, and thev three turned back between the yews.

""Simply that De Avila broke in upon a plantation of Frenchmen on that coast, and very Spaniardly hung them all for heretics - eight hundred or so. The next year Dominique de Gorgues, a Gascon, broke in upon De Avila's men, and very justly hung 'em all for murderers -five hundred or so. No Christians inhabit there now," says the elder lad, "though 'tis a goodly land north of Florida."

""How far is it from England?" asks prudent Gloriana.

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""With a fair wind, six weeks. They say that

your pardon