CHAPTER II.
HOW AMYAS CAME HOME THE FIRST TIME "Si taceant homines, facient te sidera notum, Sol nescit comitis immemor esse sui." Old Epigram on Drake.
Five years are past and gone.

It is nine of the clock on a still, bright November morning; but the bells of Bideford church are still ringing for the daily service two hours after the usual time; and instead of going soberly according to wont, cannot help breaking forth every five minutes into a jocund peal, and tumbling head over heels in ecstasies of joy.
Bideford streets are a very flower-garden of all the colors, swarming with seamen and burghers, and burghers' wives and daughters, all in their holiday attire.

Garlands are hung across the streets, and tapestries from every window.

The ships in the pool are dressed in all their flags, and give tumultuous vent to their feelings by peals of ordnance of every size.

Every stable is crammed with horses; and Sir Richard Grenville's house is like a very tavern, with eating and drinking, and unsaddling, and running to and fro of grooms and serving-men.