“And as thou hast behaved nobly therein, thou shalt be its harbinger to the Queen,” answered the Admiral. “Speed thee straight to thy ship, and make for Dover. Thence take horse for Westminster, and notify to her Highness, by word of mouth, what hath happed, signifying that I will further advise her thereof anon.” “I will away incontinently, my Lord,” returned Hildebrand. CHAPTER XVII. About nine o’clock on the following morning, Hildebrand, covered with dust, and mounted on a jaded and travel-worn horse, having ridden all night, drew up at the gate of the palace of Westminster. Announcing himself as a messenger from the Lord Admiral, he was forthwith conducted to Sir Ferdinand Georges; and by that personage, who officiated as Lord Chamberlain, marshalled to the presence of the Queen. “An officer from my Lord Admiral, your Highness!” said Sir Ferdinand, on their entry. The Queen started to her feet. “What news, friend?” she cried to Hildebrand. “God save your Highness!” replied Hildebrand, dropping on one knee at her feet. “The Spanish armada is overcome!” There was a pause for a moment, when a half-suppressed buzz, in which the Queen herself joined, broke from every one present. “Now, God be thanked!” the Queen then cried, in a fervent tone. “Where is my Lord Admiral’s report?” “His Lordship was so eager to advertise your Highness of the victory,” answered Hildebrand, “that he deferred writing thereon, and sends his report by word of mouth. Sixteen ships of the enemy have been captured, eight blown into the air, and five, after a hard struggle, dismasted and sunk. The remainder have been dispersed.” “’Tis a victory without parallel!” said the Queen. “What is thy name?” “Hildebrand Clifford, my liege.” “Ah!” cried the Queen. “We have had a good report of thee afore, and owe thee a meed. Give us thy sword, Sir!” Hildebrand, still kneeling, drew forth his sword, and, with a low bow, placed it in the Queen’s hand. As she caught its hilt, the Queen raised it in the air, and slapped it lustily on his shoulder. “In the name of God, rise up, Sir Hildebrand Clifford, knight!” she exclaimed. Hildebrand, though without being elated--for he had now no savour of earthly distinctions--received back his sword, and sprang to his feet. “I thank your Highness?” he said. “Let us see thee here often,” replied the Queen, with a smile, “and before long, too. But, for the present, get thee hence, and betake thee to rest; for we must straight pen a proclamation of thy news to our loving subjects.” With these words, she extended him her small hand; and, again bending his knee, he raised it to his lips. Then, with a low bow, he rose to his feet, and made his egress.