The sequel of this glorious contest is too well known for us to dwell upon; only so far as it bears upon our story have we followed it. To that poor player, the intrepidity of demeanour, the confidence in the love of her subjects, and the activity and foresight of the royal Tudor, was not lost. He saw of what his own countrymen were capable; and when he dipped his pan in his own heart, and described deeds of knightly fame, he wrote as he felt.
The noble Howard of Effingham, profiting by the faults of the Duke of Medina, and the difficulties experienced by the Spanish seamen in manœuvring their floating castles, made a terrible example of the enemy, and all around is crushing ruin, flight, and pursuit. Those ships which were scattered he followed, and the whole fleet of Medina was already vanquished and flying, when the elements effected the rest.
"So, by a roaring tempest as the flood,
A whole Armada of collected sail
Is scatter'd and disjoined from fellowship."
It was during the continuance of tho storm which followed, and whilst the few Spaniards who returned to their own shores were filling the ears of their countrymen with reports of the desperate valour of the English, and the tempestuous violence of the ocean which surrounded them, that two solitary travellers took their way along the old Kent road leading from Sandwich to Canterbury. Having quitted the ships in which they had arrived at the old Cinque Porte town, the two wayfarers were now making their way towards the metropolis.
In our own times they would have come under the denomination of strollers, since one of them was in reality an actor, and, in the form of the other who walks by his side, our readers must recognise the youth rescued during the preceding action with the Armada.
Light is the step and joyous the voice of that player. It almost cheers the heavy heart of the melancholy lad, his companion. Nay, it does, in some sort, apparently chase from his memory some rooted sorrow; for the large glowing orbs of the boy are oft-times turned towards the player as he speaks, and his step becomes more firm as they proceed.
Scarce a mile has been traversed from the town, ere the eye of the player catches sight of a gray and massive ruin on his right, and the steps of both are turned towards it.
Long lingered their footsteps beside that magnificent relic, and deeply ponders the player upon the surrounding scene.
His companion listened to his words with breathless interest. The glittering helmets of the cohorts of Rome seem to pass within the arena.
Nay, the spirit of the Roman, who reared the fortress, like a rock, upon that elevation, eighteen hundred years before, seems still to pervade the spot. There—where the thistle rears its lonely head, and the long grass of centuries waves in the wind—the shadowy forms of the imperial soldiery seem to glide by.