that sings, but upon her sing my mariners and soldiers, for that they go
forth to victory!"

He put his hands behind his head, and with a light in his eyes looked
back to the dwindling ships. "Victory!" he repeated beneath his breath.
"Such fame, such service, as that earthworm, that same Detraction, shall
raise no more her lying head!" He turned to Sedley: "I am glad, Harry,
that your lot is cast with mine. For we go forth to victory, lad!"

The younger man answered him impetuously, a flush of pride mounting to
his smooth, dark cheek. "I doubt it not, Sir Mortimer, nor of my
gathering laurels, since I go with you! I count myself most fortunate."
He threw back his head and laughed. "I have no lady-love," he said, "and
so I will heap the laurels in the lap of my sister Damaris."

By now, the tide being with them, they were nearing Greenwich House.
Ferne dipped his hand into the water, then, straightening himself, shook
from it the sparkling drops, and looked in the face of the youth who was
to make with him his maiden voyage.

"You could heap laurels in the lap of no sweeter lady," he said,
courteously. "I thought you went on yesterday to say farewell to
Mistress Damaris Sedley."

"Why, so I did," said the other, simply. "We said farewell with our
eyes in the presence, while the Queen talked with my Lord of Leicester;
in the antechamber with our hands; in the long gallery with our lips;
and when we reached the gardens, and there was none at all to see, we
e'en put our arms about each other and wept. It is a right noble wench,
my sister, and loves me dearly. And then, while we talked, one of her