"Well, Mrs. Marston, those in the foremost squadron, to the left"—Mary indicated them with her riding-stock—"have on board the English and Scotch, commanded by General Mackay—they sail under the red flag of Admiral Herbert."
"Who is given the van out of compliment to the English," remarked Mrs. Marston, with sparkling eyes.
Mary drew an excited breath.
"Those scattered ships, under the white flag, are the Germans, the Prince his guards and Brandenburgers under Count Zolms, and these that bring up the van are the Dutch and the French Huguenots under the Count of Nassau—this squadron is under the orders of Admiral Evertgen."
"And where, Madam, is the Prince?"
"In the centre—you can see his flag with his arms—it is called the 'Brill.'"
"Thank you, Madam—it is a noble sight, is it not?"
Mary laughed softly; she was so secure in her own exaltation, that she felt a kind of pity for the rest of the world.
"Your husband is aboard the fleet?" asked Mrs. Marston, with friendly curiosity.
"Yes," said Mary quietly.