It was still the policy of Philip II. to appear as Elizabeth's protector, anxious to save her from the consequences of her own rashness and to give her time to repent. This half contemptuous patronage was the result of mere statecraft, and the Queen gave no credit for kindliness to a man who had no such element in his nature. The first sighs of the great storm had been heard in the Netherlands. With France and Scotland united, and with England crushed as Philip thought she might be, the power of Spain in Northern Europe would be endangered. The Catholic King would therefore give no help to Catholic Ireland. The Christian King could give none; nor even maintain his ground in Scotland. The French fleet had been cast away, and the Huguenots were at no pains to hide their sympathy with English and Scotch reformers. The conspiracy of Amboise showed what might be expected. Francis II. was nought, and the hatred of Catherine de' Medici for her lovely daughter-in-law paralysed the efforts of the statesmen who ruled about him. Brave and full of resource, but without help or hope, D'Oysel was shut up in Leith, the national skill of his followers making the best of rats and horseflesh while Winter's ships lay off Inchkeith, the unchallenged tyrants of the sea. Mary of Lorraine died with a Calvinist preacher by her bedside, and the power of Rome was for ever broken in Scotland. Under such circumstances no outbreak in Ireland could have a chance of success, and the plottings of the Geraldines with O'Briens and O'Neills came for the time to nothing. [Sidenote: Sussex made Lord-Lieutenant, 1560.] Fortified by constant intercourse with the Queen and Cecil, Sussex returned to Ireland with the title of Lord-Lieutenant, which had not been conferred since the death of Henry VIII.'s son, and which was not to be conferred again till it was given to the rash favourite whose fate darkened Elizabeth's last days. He told the Queen that he was willing to surrender his post to anyone who would go against Shane O'Neill on easier terms. 'She seeth,' he said, 'that I affect not that governance.' He had repudiated with scorn the accusation that he had put to death those who surrendered under protection. 'If the cause,' he said, 'were mine own I would ask trial like a gentleman, but it is the Queen's. My word is not the Earl of Sussex's word but Queen Elizabeth's word, my lie her lie.' Noble words: but too imperfectly remembered in the hour of trial.[11] [Sidenote: Private and public instructions to Sussex.]