The corpse was buried; a few prayers said hastily; and Eustace Leigh was away again, not now to find Baltinglas; for it was more than his life was worth.  The girl had told him of the English soldiers who had passed, and he knew that they would reach the earl probably before he did.  The game was up; all was lost.  So he retraced his steps, as a desperate resource, to the last place where he would be looked for, and after a month of disguising, hiding, and other expedients, found himself again in his native county of Devon, while Fitz-Eustace Viscount Baltinglas had taken ship for Spain, having got little by his famous argument to Ormond in behalf of his joining the Church of Rome, “Had not thine ancestor, blessed Thomas of Canterbury, died for the Church of Rome, thou hadst never been Earl of Ormond.”  The premises were certainly sounder than those of his party were wont to be; for it was to expiate the murder of that turbulent hero that the Ormond lands had been granted by Henry II.:  but as for the conclusion therefrom, it was much on a par with the rest.

And now let us return to Raleigh and Amyas, as they jog along their weary road.  They have many things to talk of; for it is but three days since they met.

Amyas, as you see, is coming fast into Raleigh’s old opinion of Ireland.  Raleigh, under the inspiration of a possible grant of Desmond’s lands, looks on bogs and rocks transfigured by his own hopes and fancy, as if by the glory of a rainbow.  He looked at all things so, noble fellow, even thirty years after, when old, worn out, and ruined; well for him had it been otherwise, and his heart had grown old with his head!  Amyas, who knows nothing about Desmond’s lands, is puzzled at the change.

“Why, what is this, Raleigh?  You are like children sitting in the market-place, and nothing pleases you.  You wanted to get to Court, and you have got there; and are lord and master, I hear, or something very like it, already—­and as soon as fortune stuffs your mouth full of sweet-meats, do you turn informer on her?”

Raleigh laughed insignificantly, but was silent.

“And how is your friend Mr. Secretary Spenser, who was with us at Smerwick?”

“Spenser?  He has thriven even as I have; and he has found, as I have, that in making one friend at Court you make ten foes; but ’Oderint dum metuant’ is no more my motto than his, Leigh.  I want to be great—­great I am already, they say, if princes’ favor can swell the frog into an ox; but I want to be liked, loved—­I want to see people smile when I enter.”

“So they do, I’ll warrant,” said Amyas.

“So do hyenas,” said Raleigh; “grin because they are hungry, and I may throw them a bone; I’ll throw you one now, old lad, or rather a good sirloin of beef, for the sake of your smile.  That’s honest, at least, I’ll warrant, whosoever’s else is not.  Have you heard of my brother Humphrey’s new project?”

“How should I hear anything in this waste howling wilderness?”