"When I go home I'll build again my father's house," cried Henry Sedley.

"In Plymouth port there's a bark I know," quoth Baldry. "When I go home
she's mine,--I'll make of her another _Star_!"

"When I go home--" said Sir Mortimer, and paused. The early light was on
his face, a deeper light within his eyes that saw the rose which he
should gather when he went home. Then, since he would not utter so deep
and dear a thought--"When we go home," he said, and began to speak--half
in earnest, half in relief from the gravity of the past council--of that
returning. By degrees the fire burned, and he whose spirit the live
coal touched as it touched Sidney's and, more rarely, Walter Raleigh's,
bore his listeners with him in a rhapsody of anticipation. Long fronds
of palm drooped without the room which held them, Englishmen in a world
or savage or Spanish, but their spirits followed the speaker to green
fields of Kent or Devon. They saw the English summer, saw the twilight
fall, heard the lonely tinkle of far sheep-bells, heard the nightingales
singing beneath the moon that shone on England. Friends' homes opened to
them; Grenville welcomed them to Stowe, Sidney to charmed Penshurst.
Then to London and the Triple Tun! Bow Bells rang for them; they drank
in the inn's long-room; their names were in men's mouths. What welcome,
what clashing of the bells, when they should sail up the Thames
again--the _Mere Honour_, the _Cygnet_, the _Marigold_, and the
_Phoenix_--with treasure in their holds, and for pilot that bright angel
Fame! What should they buy with their treasure? what should they do with
their fame? Treasure should beget stout ships, stout hearts to sail
them; fame, laid to increase, might swell to deathless glory!
Sea-captains now, sea-kings would the English be, gathering tribute
from the waters and the winds, bringing gifts to England--frankincense
of wealth, myrrh of knowledge, spikenard of power!--till, robed and