“I would refuse no hazard that is possible to be done in the Queen’s service,” he said to Walsingham; “but I do persuade myself she makes no account of me.  Had it not been for the duty that nature bound me towards her and my country, I needed not to have been in that case that I am in.  Perhaps I could have fingered more pistoles than Mr. Newell, the late Latiner, and had better usage and pension of the Spaniards than he.  Some can tell that I refused large offers, in the misery of Alost, of the Prince of Parma.  Last of all, Verdugo offered me very fair, being in Loccum, to quit the States’ service, and accept theirs, without treachery or betraying of place or man.”

Not feeling inclined to teach Latin in Spain, like the late Mr. Newell, or to violate oaths and surrender fortresses, like brave soldiers of fortune whose deeds will be afterwards chronicled, he was disposed to cultivate the “acquaintance of divers Pollacks,” from which he had received invitations.  “Find I nothing there,” said he, “Duke Matthias has promised me courtesy if I would serve in Hungary.  If not, I will offer service to one of the Turk’s bashaws against the Persians.”

Fortunately, work was found for the trusty Welshman in the old fields.  His brave honest face often reappeared; his sharp sensible tongue uttered much sage counsel; and his ready sword did various solid service, in leaguer, battle-field, and martial debate, in Flanders, Holland, Spain, and France.

For the present, he was casting his keen glances upon the negotiations in progress, and cavilling at the general policy which seemed predominant.

He believed that the object of the French was to trifle with the States, to protract interminably their negotiations, to prevent the English government from getting any hold upon the Provinces, and then to leave them to their fate.

He advised Walsingham to advance men and money, upon the security of Sluys and Ostend.

“I dare venture my life,” said he, with much energy, “that were Norris, Bingham, Yorke, or Carlisle, in those ports, he would keep them during the Spanish King’s life.”

But the true way to attack Spain—­a method soon afterwards to be carried into such brilliant effect by the naval heroes of England and the Netherlands—­the long-sighted Welshman now indicated; a combined attack, namely, by sea upon the colonial possessions of Philip.

“I dare be bound,” said he, “if you join with Treslong, the States Admiral, and send off, both, three-score sail into his Indies, we will force him to retire from conquering further, and to be contented to let other princes live as well as he.”

In particular, Williams urged rapid action, and there is little doubt, that had the counsels of prompt, quick-witted, ready-handed soldiers like himself, and those who thought with him, been taken; had the stealthy but quick-darting policy of Walsingham prevailed over the solemn and stately but somewhat ponderous proceedings of Burghley, both Ghent and Antwerp might have been saved, the trifling and treacherous diplomacy of Catharine de’ Medici neutralized, and an altogether more fortunate aspect given at once to the state of Protestant affairs.