THE THREE VOLUNTEERS
Some distance down the river a vessel lay at anchor. To this the boat
made its way and lay alongside. Devereaux, the young man whom he had
called Walter, and Francis scrambled aboard, and the wherry put off. The
sails of the ship were raised, and, as she glided swiftly toward the open
sea, Devereaux gave a shout of exultation.
"Now for Plymouth and the Dons," he cried gaily. "Oh, Francis, is it not
glorious to be free?"
"Yes;" replied Francis, scarce able to speak so overcome was she by her
emotion.
"And as soon as we touch Plymouth thou canst take passage in another
vessel for France."
Then indeed did the girl turn upon him with flashing eyes.
"France?" she cried. "Go to France while England is in danger? Never!
Never! At Plymouth do I stay, Edward Devereaux, with the fleet. I am
resolved to meet the Dons as well as thou."
"But, Francis, thy faith! 'Tis the same as the Spaniards! Thou canst not
meet them."
"'Tis true that I am Catholic, but still am I not born English? Never
would I see alien foot tread English soil, be the intruder of whatever
faith he may."
"And there spake a true Englishman," said he whom Edward had called
Walter. "So spake Charles Howard, Lord High Admiral of the navy. And so
also hath spoken every true Englishman of Roman Catholic faith. Who is
thy friend, Edward? I was surprised to find that another accompanied thee
in thy flight from the Tower."
As Devereaux opened his lips to reply, Francis touched his hand warningly
and answered for herself.
"I am Francis Stafford. I was imprisoned in the Tower charged with
treason to the queen, though of that I am innocent."
"Well, Master Stafford, prove thy mettle at this, England's time of need,
and it may be that England's queen will overlook thy past transgressions.
I am Walter Mildemay, kinsman of Edward Devereaux, and a true subject of
the queen's majesty, save and except for abetting the rescue of Edward
Devereaux. For that I hope to make my peace with the queen if we meet the
Spaniards."
"Hath their ships been sighted yet, Walter?" asked Edward.
"Nay; but they watch for them hourly as they have been doing for days.
'Twill surely not be much longer till they come."
The summer's sun was casting its lengthening shadows across the quiet
harbor of Plymouth as the little vessel containing the three, Walter
Mildemay, Edward Devereaux, and Francis Stafford, anchored not far from
the town. A boat put off, bearing the three named to the place where they
had been informed Admiral Lord Howard was.
It was the memorable evening of July 19, 1588, and an exciting game of
bowls was being played upon the green back of the Pelican Inn known to
every officer of Her Majesty's navy. Standing round the bowling alley
were a group of men watching the game with interest. Lord Howard of
Effingham, the Lord High Admiral of England; Sir Robert Southwell, his
son-in-law, the captain of the Elizabeth Joncas; Sir Walter Raleigh and
Sir Richard Grenville; Martin Frobisher and John Davis; John Hawkins and
his pupil, Sir Francis Drake, the vice admiral of the fleet.
The three paused as they entered this illustrious group. Sir Walter
Raleigh was the first to spy them.
"Ha, my apt pupil of the sword!" he cried. "Why came you hither?"
"We are come to join the fleet," answered Francis boldly.
"Lord Howard, here be three more volunteers," cried Raleigh. "Verily it
beseems that all of England's sons have come forth for the fight."
"And they have done well," answered the deep voice of the noble admiral.
"'Come the three corners of arms,
And we shall shock them! Nought shall make us rue,
If England to herself do rest but true.'
So says that knave--Will Shakespeare. Edward, thou here again? I thought
the queen held thee in durance?"
"She did, my lord admiral," returned Devereaux. "But think you that I was
to be mewed up like a girl when England had need of me? I trow not!"
"Spoken like a true Englishman, boy, save the slur upon the girl. Know,
Master Edward, that so enthusiastic are women and girls that if we men
wax faint hearted in the strife English women and English maidens will
take up the battle for their country."
"I crave pardon, my lord. Such speech was unworthy an Englishman when the
proof is by his----"
"I am Francis Stafford, my lord," interrupted the girl, knowing full well
what Edward was about to say. "My father and I were accused of treason to
the queen when Anthony Babington conspired against her life. I escaped
from the Tower in company with Master Devereaux. Do not, I beseech you,
say me nay when I plead for place with you. I would fain prove that I am
a true and loyal subject of Her Majesty."
"And thou shalt be given the opportunity, lad. And thou, young sir," to
Walter Mildemay, "art thou escaped from the Tower also?"
"Nay, sir; I am but accessory to their flight," replied the young man.
"The saints preserve us!" ejaculated his lordship piously. "Now Heaven
send the Dons soon else I shall have such a storm about mine ears as
never wind did raise."
At this moment an old sailor burst into the midst of the group.
"My lord, my lord!" cried the weather-beaten old salt to the lord high
admiral, "they're coming. I saw 'em off the Lizard last night; they're
coming full sail, hundreds of 'em a darkening the waters!"
A cheer rose from the lips of the men; a spirit of excitement stirred
every heart. Nay; not every breast, for Sir Francis Drake, the vice
admiral, said coolly to his chief as he hurled the bowl along the smooth,
worn planks:
"There will be time enough to finish the game, and then we'll go out and
give the Dons a thrashing."
And now the beacon lights flashed the news from hilltop to hilltop, and
on to London, and thence northward to the Scottish borders, and westward
throughout Wales until every village and town of every shire in England
thrilled with the tidings. Forgetful of religious dissensions, of feud,
and of private wrong, all Englishmen arose as one man to repel the
invading foe.
Amidst all the confusion incident to the announcement of the old seaman,
Devereaux drew Francis aside and whispered entreatingly:
"Francis, I implore thee to remain here. 'Tis not seemly that thou
shouldst board ship. There will be fighting, and----"
"And thou wouldst have all the glory, Edward Devereaux," cried the girl
unjust as she often was when indignant. "Dost thou think that I fear?
What hath life to yield that would equal the sweetness of striking one
blow for England? Think you an English girl cannot fight as well as an
English lad?"
"Nay, nay, Francis; but for my sake----"
"For thy sake?" echoed the girl in surprise. "Why should I stay for thy
sake? Come! we lose time."