“Admiral Hawkins, Admiral Hawkins, this is no time for drinking.”

“Why not, then, my lord?  Good news should be welcomed with good wine.  Frank, send down to the sexton, and set the bells a-ringing to cheer up all honest hearts.  Why, my lord, if it were not for the gravity of my office, I could dance a galliard for joy!”

“Well, you may dance, port admiral:  but I must go and plan, but God give to all captains such a heart as yours this day!”

“And God give all generals such a head as yours!  Come, Frank Drake, we’ll play the game out before we move.  It will be two good days before we shall be fit to tackle them, so an odd half-hour don’t matter.”

“I must command the help of your counsel, vice-admiral,” said Lord Charles, turning to Drake.

“And it’s this, my good lord,” said Drake, looking up, as he aimed his bowl.  “They’ll come soon enough for us to show them sport, and yet slow enough for us to be ready; so let no man hurry himself.  And as example is better than precept, here goes.”

Lord Howard shrugged his shoulders, and departed, knowing two things:  first, that to move Drake was to move mountains; and next, that when the self-taught hero did bestir himself, he would do more work in an hour than any one else in a day.  So he departed, followed hastily by most of the captains; and Drake said in a low voice to Hawkins: 

“Does he think we are going to knock about on a lee-shore all the afternoon and run our noses at night—­and dead up-wind, too—­into the Dons’ mouths?  No, Jack, my friend.  Let Orlando-Furioso-punctilio-fire-eaters go and get their knuckles rapped.  The following game is the game, and not the meeting one.  The dog goes after the sheep, and not afore them, lad.  Let them go by, and go by, and stick to them well to windward, and pick up stragglers, and pickings, too, Jack—­the prizes, Jack!”

“Trust my old eyes for not being over-quick at seeing signals, if I be hanging in the skirts of a fat-looking Don.  We’m the eagles, Drake; and where the carcase is, is our place, eh?”

And so the two old sea-dogs chatted on, while their companions dropped off one by one, and only Amyas remained.

“Eh, Captain Leigh, where’s my boy Dick?”

“Gone off with his lordship, Sir John.”

“On his punctilios too, I suppose, the young slashed-breeks.  He’s half a Don, that fellow, with his fine scholarship, and his fine manners, and his fine clothes.  He’ll get a taking down before he dies, unless he mends.  Why ain’t you gone too, sir?”

“I follow my leader,” said Amyas, filling his pipe.

“Well said, my big man,” quoth Drake.  “If I could lead you round the world, I can lead you up Channel, can’t I?—­Eh? my little bantam-cock of the Orinoco?  Drink, lad!  You’re over-sad to-day.”

“Not a whit,” said Amyas.  “Only I can’t help wondering whether I shall find him after all.”