decks to the topmost pennant flaunting the sunshine. He found it good,
and the salt of life was strong in his nostrils. Inwardly he prayed for
the safety of the _Mere Honour_, and the _Marigold_, but that picture of
the sinking _Star_ he dismissed as far as might be from his mind. She
had been but a small ship--notorious indeed for fights against great
odds, for sheer bravado and hairbreadth escapes, but still a small ship,
and not to be compared with the _Cygnet_. No life had been forfeited,
and Captain Robert Baldry must even digest as best he might his private
loss and discomfiture. If, as he walked to his place of honor, and as he
stood with English gentlemen about him, with English sailors and
soldiers ranged before him giving thanks for deliverance from danger,
the Captain of the _Cygnet_ held too high his head; if he at that moment
looked upon his life with too conscious a pride, knew too well the
difference between himself, steadfast helmsman of all his being, and
that untutored nature which drove another from rock to shoal, from shoal
to quicksand--yet that knowledge, detestable to all the gods, dragged at
his soul but for a moment. He bent his head and prayed for the missing
ships, and most heartily for John Nevil, his Admiral, whom he loved;
then for Damaris Sedley that she be kept in health and joyousness of
mind; and lastly, believing that he but plead for the success of an
English expedition against Spain and Antichrist, he prayed for gold and
power, a sovereign's gratitude and man's acclaim.

Three days later they came to Teneriffe, and to their great rejoicing
found there the _Mere Honour_ and the _Marigold_. The Admiral signalled
a council; and Ferne, taking with him Giles Arden, Sedley, and the
Captain of the sunken _Star_, went aboard the _Mere Honour_, where he
was shortly joined by Baptist Manwood from the _Marigold_, with his
lieutenants Wynch and Paget. In his state-cabin, when he had given his
Captains welcome, the Admiral sat at table with his wine before him and