man.  Recalde, De Leyva, Oquendo, and other officers were sent for to the San Martin to consult.  Oquendo came last.  ‘Ah, Senor Oquendo,’ said the Duke as the heroic Biscayan stepped on board, ‘que haremos?’ (what shall we do?) ‘Let your Excellency bid load the guns again,’ was Oquendo’s gallant answer.  It could not be.  De Leyva himself said that the men would not fight the English again.  Florez advised surrender.  The Duke wavered.  It was said that a boat was actually lowered to go off to Howard and make terms, and that Oquendo swore that if the boat left the San Martin on such an errand he would fling Florez into the sea.  Oquendo’s advice would have, perhaps, been the safest if the Duke could have taken it.  There were still seventy ships in the Armada little hurt.  The English were ‘bragging,’ as Drake said, and in no condition themselves for another serious engagement.  But the temper of the entire fleet made a courageous course impossible.  There was but one Oquendo.  Discipline was gone.  The soldiers in their desperation had taken the command out of the hands of the seamen.  Officers and men alike abandoned hope, and, with no human prospect of salvation left to them, they flung themselves on their knees upon the decks and prayed the Almighty to have pity on them.  But two weeks were gone since they had knelt on those same decks on the first sight of the English shore to thank Him for having brought them so far on an enterprise so glorious.  Two weeks; and what weeks!  Wrecked, torn by cannon shot, ten thousand of them dead or dying—­for this was the estimated loss by battle—­the survivors could now but pray to be delivered from a miserable death by the elements.  In cyclones the wind often changes suddenly back from north-west to west, from west to south.  At that moment, as if in answer to their petition, one of these sudden shifts of wind saved them from the immediate peril.  The gale backed round to S.S.W., and ceased to press them on the shoals.  They could ease their sheets, draw off into open water, and steer a course up the middle of the North Sea.

So only that they went north, Drake was content to leave them unmolested.  Once away into the high latitudes they might go where they would.  Neither Howard nor he, in the low state of their own magazines, desired any unnecessary fighting.  If the Armada turned back they must close with it.  If it held its present course they must follow it till they could be assured it would communicate no more for that summer with the Prince of Parma.  Drake thought they would perhaps make for the Baltic or some port in Norway.  They would meet no hospitable reception from either Swedes or Danes, but they would probably try.  One only imminent danger remained to be provided against.  If they turned into the Forth, it was still possible for the Spaniards to redeem their defeat, and even yet shake Elizabeth’s throne.  Among the many plans which had been formed for the invasion of England, a landing in Scotland had long