"Come, Captain Grenville," said she, taking Sir Richard by the arm and dragging him under the shadow of one of the beech-trees. "Y'are standing in the middle of the sea where you are. We are about to play at a great sea-fight, and you are to be the Spanish fleet." It was strange to see the tall strong man being led about by this little girl and made to do her bidding as if she had been his sovereign queen. "Even as you list, good my mistress," said he with a docile submission which was hardly to be expected in one who had the reputation of being a cruel and relentless warrior. "I am willing to enact whatsoever part you please; only, if, as I suspect, I am to be the Armada, as you made me on the other occasion when you brought me to such disaster, I do beseech you to excuse me the long voyage round the islands of Orkney, for my limbs are scarce equal to the journey this morning." "You shall take what part you choose," interposed Gilbert Oglander, standing at his sister's side and glancing up into Sir Richard Grenville's twinkling gray eyes. Gilbert was a boy of thirteen years old, very agile and active. His hair was very dark, and its darkness made his skin seem all the more fair and clear. In stature he was not very tall for his age, but his limbs were sinewy and strong, and one could see at a glance that he was of gentle birth, that he had lived much of his life in the open air, and that he was well fitted to endure all manner of fatigue. "You shall take what part you choose," said he. "Why, then, an that be so," returned Captain Grenville, "I will choose to be Don Hugo de Monçada's great galleass, for then I may lie and rest me on Calais beach and thus be out of the action, as she was when she ran aground." "Yes," agreed Drusilla; "but first you must be the whole Spanish fleet, anchored in Calais Roads. Master Pym will help you to make a show of numbers, while Gilbert will, of course, be Sir Francis Drake on board the _Revenge_, and Sir Martin Frobisher on board the _Triumph_, and whichever other of our English admirals he doth care to be. I am myself to be the lord admiral's flag-ship." "And, prithee, what ship or squadron of ships doth young Timothy Trollope represent?" questioned Sir Richard Grenville. "Surely you will not scorn so useful an addition to the game?" "We had best make Timothy enact the part of the English fire-ships," suggested Christopher Pym, smiling as his eyes rested upon the lad's bright red hair. And at his suggestion Drusilla clapped her hands together and cried "Yes, he shall be the fire-ships!"