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just a lark to them. Yet it was a sad thing to let sin go unpunished.
    Sir Humphrey was of the same opinion as Mistress Alton regarding the frustrations at sea. This was witches’ work. How else could it be explained? He wanted to take old Granny Lackwell and make her talk, make her expose her confederates. He argued the point with Richard; and it was maddening how a scholar could tie up a man with words. He was turning over in his mind whether he would not act in this matter in spite of his friend’s disapproval, and one bright Friday afternoon, he decided to ride over to Pennicomquick and tell Richard so.
    He did not, however, reach the house, for as he rode the few miles which separated his house from that of Richard, a rider came galloping towards him, and he saw that it was one of his own men whom he had sent that morning into Plymouth on an errand.
    â€˜Sir Humphrey,’ cried the man, ‘they are coming. Captain Fleming has just come into the harbour. The admirals were at play on the Hoe. The Spaniards are sighted off the Lizard.’
    Then Sir Humphrey forgot the danger of witches. He lost no time in galloping straight down to the harbour.
    The days that followed saw the defeat of what had been believed to be the greatest armada the world had seen. Much of the battle had been witnessed from the Devon and Cornish coasts before the Spaniards fled up Channel towards the Isle of Wight, pursued by English ships in which men counted their ammunition and were close to starvation, living as they were on half rations. News travelled slowly and it was some time before the people of Plymouth knew the story of the fireships which had finished off the fine work of their seamen.
    This was a proud story, but not so proud was the tale of men set ashore to die in the streets of seaports from wounds and starvation. Yet England was saved from Spain and the Inquisition in spite of her Queen, who, now that her kingdom was safe, sat shaking her ginger head at the cost of the operations, and grumbling because an ill wind had arisen and carried the battered and beaten ships with their treasure out ofher grasp, so that the sea bed garnered the riches which English seamen had won for their Queen.
    Quiet had returned to the town of Plymouth. Nobody talked of the Spaniards now, except the penniless sailors who, their work done, were having to whistle for their pay. Danger of invasion had gone; danger of starvation was less exciting.
    It was at the beginning of September when Mistress Alton brought the weeping Luce to her master and bade the girl tell him of her shame.
    Richard could see the change in Luce. There were dark shadows under her eyes and her face was set into lines of anxiety.
    She was silent, so Mistress Alton spoke for her.
    â€˜I have terrible news.’ The woman’s lips could not hide the savage satisfaction she was feeling.
    Richard raised his eyebrows. ‘Indeed? I should have thought it was good news by the look of you.’
    â€˜Then, sir, my looks belie my feelings. This girl has brought shame on herself and me. On me because she was in my charge; but I lay sick and so she escaped to her wickedness. On herself because the Lord has decided that she shall answer for her sins here below. She thought to escape, but she has learned that sins must be paid for. I have whipped her; she still bleeds from the whipping. And now there is naught to be done but turn her out of doors.’
    â€˜What great sin is this?’ asked Richard, stroking the lace of his ruff with tenderness, as though he were more concerned with its set than with the troubles of a serving girl.
    â€˜She is with child, sir. The wicked wanton creature! She’s been sneaking out at night to meet her lover, and now it seems he’ll have nothing to do with her. So she is left to bring her shame to me.’
    â€˜Who is your lover?’ asked Richard.
    Luce hung her head and would not answer. Mistress Alton’s clenched fist