image, which had fallen in other days before the Ark, and would fall again if boldly defied.  So long as he had ships that would float, and there was food on board them for the men to eat, he entreated her to let him stay and strike whenever a chance was offered him.  The continuing to the end yielded the true glory.  When men were serving religion and their country, a merciful God, it was likely, would give them victory, and Satan and his angels should not prevail.

All in good time.  Another year and Drake would have the chance he wanted.  For the moment Satan had prevailed—­Satan in the shape of Elizabeth’s Catholic advisers.  Her answer came.  It was warm and generous.  She did not, could not, blame him for what he had done so far, but she desired him to provoke the King of Spain no further.  The negotiations for peace had opened, and must not be interfered with.

This prohibition from the Queen prevented, perhaps, what would have been the most remarkable exploit in English naval history.  As matters stood it would have been perfectly possible for Drake to have gone into the Tagus, and if he could not have burnt the galleons he could certainly have come away unhurt.  He had guessed their condition with entire correctness.  The ships were there, but the ships’ companies were not on board them.  Santa Cruz himself admitted that if Drake had gone in he could have himself done nothing ‘por falta de gente’ (for want of men).  And Drake undoubtedly would have gone, and would have done something with which all the world would have rung, but for the positive command of his mistress.  He lingered in the roads at Cintra, hoping that Santa Cruz would come out and meet him.  All Spain was clamouring at Santa Cruz’s inaction.  Philip wrote to stir the old admiral to energy.  He must not allow himself to be defied by a squadron of insolent rovers.  He must chase them off the coast or destroy them.  Santa Cruz needed no stirring.  Santa Cruz, the hero of a hundred fights, was chafing at his own impotence; but he was obliged to tell his master that if he wished to have service out of his galleons he must provide crews to handle them, and they must rot at their anchors till he did.  He told him, moreover, that it was time for him to exert himself in earnest.  If he waited much longer, England would have grown too strong for him to deal with.

In strict obedience Drake ought now to have gone home, but the campaign had brought so far more glory than prize-money.  His comrades required some consolation for their disappointment at Lisbon.  The theory of these armaments of the adventurers was that the cost should be paid somehow by the enemy, and he could be assured that if he brought back a prize or two in which she could claim a share the Queen would not call him to a very strict account.  Homeward-bound galleons or merchantmen were to be met with occasionally at the Azores.  On leaving Lisbon Drake headed away to St. Michael’s, and his lucky star was still in the ascendant.