In another minute all the vessels in the Spanish fleet had followed the example of the “Santissima Trinidada.” This was no sooner done than a loud salute was fired from all the guns in the English navy. Before the smoke had rolled away, the Spanish fleet replied by a deafening roar of artillery. Lusty cheers were then given by the sailors thronging the ropes and cross-bars of the English ships, and amid the beating of drums and the shriller music of the fife, a large boat was lowered from the Lord High Admiral’s ship, in which Lord Clinton, attended by several officers of distinction, was rowed towards the “Santissima Trinidada.” On coming on board, the Lord High Admiral was ceremoniously received by Count D’Egmont, who acted as the Prince’s major-domo, and, after a brief interchange of compliments, on the Admiral’s request to be presented to his Highness, he was ushered through two lines of bronze-visaged and splendidly-equipped harquebuzeros to the bulk-head, where Philip was seated, with his nobles drawn up on either side. By all the latter, Clinton was regarded haughtily and menacingly, but, apparently heedless of their displeasure, he made a profound reverence to the Prince, who received him with a graciousness that offered a marked contrast to the defiant looks of his entourage. “In the Queen’s name, I bid your Highness welcome to her dominions,” said the Admiral; “and I trust I shall be excused if I have appeared uncourteous in the discharge of my duty, which is to maintain her Majesty’s sovereignty in these seas.” “No need of apologies, my lord,” replied Philip. “The fault was ours, not yours. We ought to have recollected that we are now in English waters. How fares her Majesty?” “Right well,” said the Admiral, “and only anxious for your Highness’s safe arrival.” “Is she at Southampton?” pursued Philip. “No, my lord,” rejoined the Admiral. “Her Grace came these two days past to Winchester, where she will await your Highness’s coming. I had tidings of her so late as yester-morn, brought by my nephew, who is now with me.” “Is this your nephew, my lord?” inquired Philip, glancing at a tall, well-proportioned young man, standing behind the Admiral. The blooming complexion, clear blue eyes, brown waving locks, and features of this very handsome young man, proclaimed his Saxon origin. “Ay, my lord, this is my nephew, Osbert Clinton,” replied the Admiral, eyeing the youth with a pride which the good looks and gallant bearing of the latter might perhaps justify. “He is fresh from her Majesty’s presence, as I have just declared to your Highness. Stand forward, Osbert, and tell the Prince all thou knowest.” On this, the young man advanced, and bowing gracefully to Philip, gave him particulars of the Queen’s journey from London, of her stay at Guildford, of her meeting with the Marquis de las Naves, and of her arrival at Winchester—to all of which the Prince listened with apparent interest.