in the very teeth of the forts, at Lillo, Liefkenshoek, Saftingen, and other points close to Antwerp.  There were so many of these war-vessels, and all in such excellent order, that they were a most notable embarrassment to him, he observed, and his own flotilla would run great risk of being utterly destroyed.  Alexander had been personally superintending matters at Sluys, Ghent, and Antwerp, and had strengthened with artillery the canal which he had constructed between Sas and Sluys.  Meantime his fresh troops had been slowly arriving, but much sickness prevailed among them.  The Italians were dying fast, almost all the Spaniards were in hospital, and the others were so crippled and worn out that it was most pitiable to behold them; yet it was absolutely necessary that those who were in health should accompany him to England, since otherwise his Spanish force would be altogether too weak to do the service expected.  He had got together a good number of transports.  Not counting his Antwerp fleet—­which could not stir from port, as he bitterly complained, nor be of any use, on account of the rebel blockade—­he had between Dunkerk and Newport seventy-four vessels of various kinds fit for sea-service, one hundred and fifty flat-bottoms (pleytas), and seventy riverhoys, all which were to be assembled at Sluys, whence they would—­so soon as Santa Cruz should make his appearance—­set forth for England.  This force of transports he pronounced sufficient, when properly protected by the Spanish Armada, to carry himself and his troops across the channel.  If, therefore, the matter did not become publicly known, and if the weather proved favourable, it was probable that his Majesty’s desire would soon be fulfilled according to the plan proposed.  The companies of light horse and of arquebusmen, with which he meant to make his entrance into London, had been clothed, armed, and mounted, he said, in a manner delightful to contemplate, and those soldiers at least might be trusted—­if they could only effect their passage—­to do good service, and make matters quite secure.

But craftily as the King and Duke had been dealing, it had been found impossible to keep such vast preparations entirely secret.  Walsingham was in full possession of their plans down to the most minute details.  The misfortune was that he was unable to persuade his sovereign, Lord Burghley, and others of the peace-party, as to the accuracy of his information.  Not only was he thoroughly instructed in regard to the number of men, vessels, horses, mules, saddles, spurs, lances, barrels of beer and tons of biscuit, and other particulars of the contemplated invasion, but he had even received curious intelligence as to the gorgeous equipment of those very troops, with which the Duke was just secretly announcing to the King his intention of making his triumphal entrance into the English capital.  Sir Francis knew how many thousand yards of cramoisy velvet, how many hundredweight of gold and silver embroidery, how much satin and feathers, and what quantity of pearls and diamonds; Farnese had been providing himself withal.  He knew the tailors, jewellers, silversmiths, and haberdashers, with whom the great Alexander—­as he now began to be called—­had been dealing;