mour broke out in the
town, and almost simultaneously a pinnace slipped out, spreading her
wings and making for the open sea. A squadron of English ships had been
sighted flying eastwards; and the pinnace was gone to get news. The ships
were watched anxiously by thousands of eyes, and boats put out all along
the coast to inquire; and within two or three hours the pinnace was back
again in Rye harbour, with news that set bells ringing and men shouting.
On Wednesday, the skipper reported, there had been an indecisive
engagement during the dead calm that had prevailed in the Channel; a
couple of Spanish store-vessels had been taken on the following morning,
and a general action had followed, which again had been indecisive; but
in which the English had hardly suffered at all, while it was supposed
that great havoc had been wrought upon the enemy.

But the best of the news was that the Rye contingent was to set sail at
once, and unite with the English fleet westward of Calais by mid-day on
Saturday. The squadron that had passed was under the command of the
Admiral himself, who was going to Dover for provisions and ammunition,
and would return to his fleet before evening.

Before many hours were passed, Rye harbour was almost empty, and hundreds
of eyes were watching the ships that carried their husbands and sons and
lovers out into the pale summer haze that hung over the coast of France;
while a few sharp-eyed old mariners on points of vantage muttered to one
another that in the haze there was a patch of white specks to be seen
which betokened the presence of some vast fleet.

That night the sun set yellow and stormy, and by morning the
cobble-stones of Rye were wet and dripping with storm-showers, and a
swell was beginning to lap and sob against the harbour walls.

CHAPTER II

MEN OF WAR AND PEACE

The following days passed in terrible suspense for all left behind at
Rye. Every morning all the points of vantage were crowded; the Ypres
tower itself was never deserted day or night; and all the sharpest eyes
in the town were bent continually out over that leaden rolling sea that
faded into haze and storm-cloud in the direction of the French coast. But
there was nothing to be seen on that waste of waters but the single boats
that flew up channel or laboured down it against the squally west wind,
far out at sea. Once or twice fishing-boats put in at Rye; but th