And he wrote to Medina Sidonia in similar terms.  That naval commander was instructed to enter the Thames at once, if strong enough.  If not, he was to winter in the Scotch port which he was supposed to have captured.  Meantime Farnese would build a new fleet at Emden, and in the spring the two dukes would proceed to accomplish the great purpose.

But at last the arrival of Medina Sidonia at Santander dispelled these visions, and now the King appeared in another attitude.  A messenger, coming post-haste from the captain-general, arrived in the early days of October at the Escorial.  Entering the palace he found Idiaquez and Moura pacing up and down the corridor, before the door of Philip’s cabinet, and was immediately interrogated by those counsellors, most anxious, of course, to receive authentic intelligence at last as to the fate, of the Armada.  The entire overthrow of the great project was now, for the first time, fully revealed in Spain; the fabulous victories over the English, and the annihilation of Howard and all his ships, were dispersed in air.  Broken, ruined, forlorn, the invincible Armada—­so far as it still existed—­had reached a Spanish port.  Great was the consternation of Idiaquez and Moura, as they listened to the tale, and very desirous was each of the two secretaries that the other should, discharge the unwelcome duty of communicating the fatal intelligence to the King.

At last Moura consented to undertake the task, and entering the cabinet, he found Philip seated at his desk.  Of course he was writing letters.  Being informed of the arrival of a messenger from the north, he laid down his pen, and inquired the news.  The secretary replied that the accounts, concerning the Armada were by no means so favourable as, could be wished.  The courier was then introduced, and made his dismal report.  The King did not change countenance.  “Great thanks,” he observed, “do I render to Almighty God, by whose generous hand I am gifted with such power, that I could easily, if I chose, place another fleet upon the seas.  Nor is it of very great importance that a running stream should be sometimes intercepted, so long as the fountain from which it flows remains inexhaustible.”

So saying he resumed his pen, and serenely proceeded with his letters.  Christopher Moura stared with unaffected amazement at his sovereign, thus tranquil while a shattered world was falling on his head, and then retired to confer with his colleague.

“And how did his Majesty receive the blow?” asked Idiaquez.

“His Majesty thinks nothing of the blow,” answered Moura, “nor do I, consequently, make more of this great calamity than does his Majesty.”