“The Lord be with you, dearest lady.  Strange, how you women sit at home to love and suffer, while we men rush forth to break our hearts and yours against rocks of our own seeking!  Ah well! were it not for Scripture, I should have thought that Adam, rather than Eve, had been the one who plucked the fruit of the forbidden tree.”

“We women, I fear; did the deed nevertheless; for we bear the doom of it our lives long.”

“You always remind me, madam, of my dear Mrs. Leigh of Burrough, and her counsels.”

“Do you see her often?  I hear of her as one of the Lord’s most precious vessels.”

“I would have done more ere now than see her,” said he with a blush, “had she allowed me:  but she lives only for the memory of her husband and the fame of her noble sons.”

As he spoke the door opened, and in walked, wrapped in his rough sea-gown, none other than one of those said noble sons.

Adrian turned pale.

“Amyas Leigh!  What brings you hither? how fares my brother?  Where is the ship?”

“Your brother is well, Mr. Gilbert.  The Golden Hind is gone on to Dartmouth, with Mr. Hayes.  I came ashore here, meaning to go north to Bideford, ere I went to London.  I called at Drake’s just now, but he was away.”

“The Golden Hind?  What brings her home so soon?”

“Yet welcome ever, sir,” said Mrs. Hawkins.  “This is a great surprise, though.  Captain John did not look for you till next year.”

Amyas was silent.

“Something is wrong!” cried Adrian.  “Speak!”

Amyas tried, but could not.

“Will you drive a man mad, sir?  Has the adventure failed?  You said my brother was well.”

“He is well.”

“Then what—­Why do you look at me in that fashion, sir?” and springing up, Adrian rushed forward, and held the candle to Amyas’s face.

Amyas’s lip quivered, as he laid his hand on Adrian’s shoulder.

“Your great and glorious brother, sir, is better bestowed than in settling Newfoundland.”

“Dead?” shrieked Adrian.

“He is with the God whom he served!”

“He was always with Him, like Enoch:  parable me no parables, if you love me, sir!”

“And, like Enoch, he was not; for God took him.”

Adrian clasped his hands over his forehead, and leaned against the table.

“Go on, sir, go on.  God will give me strength to hear all.”

And gradually Amyas opened to Adrian that tragic story, which Mr. Hayes has long ago told far too well to allow a second edition of it from me:  of the unruliness of the men, ruffians, as I said before, caught up at hap-hazard; of conspiracies to carry off the ships, plunder of fishing vessels, desertions multiplying daily; licenses from the general to the lazy and fearful to return home:  till Adrian broke out with a groan—­

“From him?  Conspired against him?  Deserted from him?  Dotards, buzzards!  Where would they have found such another leader?”