But notwithstanding Chester’s information has, perchance, saved the life of his Queen, Elizabeth, great sovereign as she is, has a strange parsimony in affairs of State, and though Guy petitions for money to refit his vessel and pay his crew, it does not come. So, being desperately anxious to get to the Netherlands again, he uses the hundred doubloons, the present from his sweetheart, to fit up his vessel against her father, devoting half of them to the embellishment and ornament of the cabins of the Dover Lass, making her staterooms so fine in woodwork and appointments that Harry Dalton, his first lieutenant, ejaculates: “By saucy Poll of Plymouth, one would think he meant this for a wedding cruise!” But despite the hundred doubloons Chester soon finds himself without money sufficient to provision and make his vessel thoroughly effective, and goes up to London from Sandwich to make a final appeal to his parsimonious sovereign. Expecting to do this through Burleigh, who possesses more than any one the royal ear, and who has always stood his friend, Chester is shown into his Lordship’s private cabinet one afternoon late in March, to find that nobleman in a brown study. “You’re just the man I wish to see, Sir Guy,” he remarks. “Tell me all about the Gueux, these Sea Beggars of the Netherlands.” “That, my lord, I can do in very few words,” replies Chester. “They are men of all classes from Brabant, Flanders, Friesland, Holland—everywhere that Alva rules, driven by cruelty and persecution to take to the sea, for to live on the land means execution by fire, with torture additional. They have been outlawed on account of their resistance to Spanish tyranny. In it are men high in the councils of the Prince of Orange, who has attempted to regulate them by granting commissions, one of which I have the honor to hold, and the medal accompanying it I wear,” and he exhibits his badge of the Gueux to Lord Burleigh. “In it are all those driven from land to ship, from the Chevalier Van Tresslong and William de la Mark, the Lord of Lumey to Dirk Duyvel, whose name proclaims him a free and easy pirate. But why do you ask me about the Gueux?” “For this reason. Twenty-five vessels manned by them are now in the harbor of Dover. They appeal to us for protection, provisions, water. Van Tresslong, and their admiral, De la Mark, are in London to ask assistance. We are nominally at peace with Spain and Alva, but I don’t like to refuse them hospitality.” “Twenty-five sail—’tis a fleet! You must refuse them hospitality,” returns Guy. “Why?” “Please let me explain this to the Queen. Take me to her; I must have money for my ship.” “Which I’m afraid Her Majesty will not grant very readily. She’s had a dozen new dresses this month—millinery bills in the female mind have the preference over naval equipment,” laughs Cecil; but orders his carriage.