and swiftly, link by link, he pieced together a complete chain.

Almost as swiftly he decided upon the course of action which he
must adopt so as to protect the Queen of France's honour. He was
virtually the ruler of England, master in these islands of an
almost boundless power. That power he would exert to the full
this very night to thwart those enemies of his own and of the
Queen's, who worked so subtly in concert. Many would be wronged,
much harm would be done, the liberties of some thousands of
freeborn Englishmen would be trampled underfoot. What did it
matter? It was necessary that his Grace of Buckingham should
cover up an indiscretion.

"Set ink and paper yonder," he bade his gaping valet. "Then go
call M. Gerbier. Rouse Lacy and Thom, and send them to me at
once, and leave word that I shall require a score of couriers to
be in the saddle and ready to set out in half an hour."

Bewildered, the valet went off upon his errand. The Duke sat down
to write. And next morning English merchants learnt that the
ports of England were closed by the King's express command--
delivered by his minister, the Duke of Buckingham--that measures
were being taken--were already taken in all southern ports--so
that no vessel of any kind should leave the island until the
King's further pleasure were made known. Startled, the people
wondered was this enactment the forerunner of war. Had they known
the truth, they might have been more startled still, though in a
different manner. As swiftly as couriers could travel--and
certainly well ahead of any messenger seeking escape overseas--
did this blockade spread, until the gates of England were tight