to attack the Spaniards in a French port might be dangerous for many reasons.  It was uncertain after the day of the Barricades whether the Duke of Guise or Henry of Valois was master of France, and a violation of the neutrality laws might easily at that moment bring Guise and France into the field on the Spaniards’ side.  It was, no doubt, with some such expectation that the Duke and his advisers had chosen Calais as the point at which to bring up.  It was now Saturday, the 7th of August.  The Governor of the town came off in the evening to the San Martin.  He expressed surprise to see the Spanish fleet in so exposed a position, but he was profuse in his offers of service.  Anything which the Duke required should be provided, especially every facility for communicating with Dunkirk and Parma.  The Duke thanked him, said that he supposed Parma to be already embarked with his troops, ready for the passage, and that his own stay in the roads would be but brief.  On Monday morning at latest he expected that the attempt to cross would be made.  The Governor took his leave, and the Duke, relieved from his anxieties, was left to a peaceful night.  He was disturbed on the Sunday morning by an express from Parma informing him that, so far from being embarked, the army could not be ready for a fortnight.  The barges were not in condition for sea.  The troops were in camp.  The arms and stores were on the quays at Dunkirk.  As for the fly-boats and ammunition which the Duke had asked for, he had none to spare.  He had himself looked to be supplied from the Armada.  He promised to use his best expedition, but the Duke, meanwhile, must see to the safety of the fleet.

Unwelcome news to a harassed landsman thrust into the position of an admiral and eager to be rid of his responsibilities.  If by evil fortune the north-wester should come down upon him, with the shoals and sandbanks close under his lee, he would be in a bad way.  Nor was the view behind him calculated for comfort.  There lay the enemy almost within gunshot, who, though scarcely more than half his numbers, had hunted him like a pack of bloodhounds, and, worse than all, in double strength; for the Thames squadron—­three Queen’s ships and thirty London adventurers—­under Lord H. Seymour and Sir John Hawkins, had crossed in the night.  There they were between him and Cape Grisnez, and the reinforcement meant plainly enough that mischief was in the wind.

After a week so trying the Spanish crews would have been glad of a Sunday’s rest if they could have had it; but the rough handling which they had gone through had thrown everything into disorder.  The sick and wounded had to be cared for, torn rigging looked to, splintered timbers mended, decks scoured, and guns and arms cleaned up and put to rights.  And so it was that no rest could be allowed; so much had to be done, and so busy was everyone, that the usual rations were not served out and the Sunday was kept as a fast.  In the afternoon the stewards