Sir Richard's stalwart son shook his head.
"Nay," he answered. "He hath scarce had time to get there as yet, nor do we expect him back for some weeks yet to come. He hath gone to the town of Rochester to see to the fitting out of the good ship Revenge, which is now lying in the river Medway. He is to bring her round to Plymouth when she is ready for sea. What her destination may thereafter be I know not, for 'tis held a secret; but wheresoever she may be bound for I do heartily rejoice to think that I am to have a berth aboard of her. 'Tis no small honour to be appointed to so renowned a ship. You, too, I hear, are to go out in her. So we shall be shipmates, eh?"
"Ay, that is indeed so," returned Gilbert with a proud smile, "for your father promised me the coveted opportunity, and charged me ere he went away to make ready against his return. You may be certain I am anxious for the time to come, for 'tis my first voyage, as you know. I am not like you, who have already heard the thunder of ships' guns in battle. Dost expect we shall have any fighting, Roland?"
"Fighting!" exclaimed Grenville. "Why, bless you, lad, there would be small use in our voyaging if there were not! I know that the ship is being fitted with brand-new guns of brass. Prithee, what should that bode but fighting? 'Twould go ill with us indeed if there were not a few Spanish galleons to give chase to in whatsoever seas we may sail. And I promise you the Revenge will not be far behind when 'tis a question of fighting the Don and capturing his treasure-ships."
He moved to go, but paused to add: "Hast seen aught of Sir Francis Drake these few days past? I am told he is in marvellous dudgeon in that my father instead of himself hath got the command of the Revenge."
"His disappointment is but natural," returned Gilbert, "seeing that he hath fought so often and so well upon her decks. But I heard him remark only the last time that I spoke with him, that if there was one man other than himself to whom the Queen might fittingly entrust this her favourite warship, that man was your father—Sir Richard Grenville."
During the journey homeward on that afternoon Gilbert noticed that Timothy was unusually silent.
"Certes, but thou'rt passing gloomy this afternoon, Trollope," he said; "what ails thee, quotha?"
"I was but grieving at the near prospect of your quitting England, sir," answered Timothy, "and at your leaving me behind when I should be far happier, ay, and peradventure more useful, were I to accompany you. I would gladly give all that I have, or may have, in the world to be with you aboard the Revenge, though my duty were only the swabbing of the decks or the cleaning of the brass guns of which Master Grenville spake."