try if I could shake the squire from his
lethargy, if Mrs. Susan had not had the grace yet to be here. How do
they?" Then in answer, "Thou must waken him, Diccon--rouse him, and
tell him that I and my lord expect it of him that he should bear his
loss as a true and honest Christian man, and not pule and moan, since
he has a son left--ay, and a grandson. You should breed your boy up to
know his manners, Susan Talbot," as Humfrey resisted an attempt to make
him do his reverence to my lady; "that stout knave of yours wants the
rod. Methought I heard you'd borne another, Susan! Ay! as I said it
would be," as her eye fell on the swaddled babe in a maid's arms. "No
lack of fools to eat up the poor old squire's substance. A maid, is
it? Beshrew me, if your voyages will find portions for all your
wenches! Has the leech let blood to thy good-mother, Susan? There!
not one amongst you all bears any brains. Knew you not how to send up
to the castle for Master Drewitt? Farewell! Thou wilt be at the lodge
to-morrow to let me know how it fares with thy mother, when her brain
is cleared by further blood-letting. And for the squire, let him know
that I expect it of him that he shall eat, and show himself a man!"

So saying, the great lady departed, escorted as far as the avenue gate
by Richard Talbot, and leaving the family gratified by her
condescension, and not allowing to themselves how much their feelings
were chafed.

CHAPTER III.

THE CAPTIVE.

Death and sorrow seemed to have marked the house of Bridgefield, for
the old lady never rallied after the blood-letting enjoined by the
Countess's medical science, and her husband, though for some months
able to creep about the house, and even sometimes to visit the fields,
had lost his memory, and became more childish week by week.

Richard Talbot was obliged to return to his ship at the end of the
month, but as soon as she was laid up for the winter he resigned his
command, and returned home, where he was needed to assume the part of
master. In truth he became actually master before the next spring, for
his father took to his bed with the first winter frosts, and in spite
of the duteous cares lavished upon him by his son and daughter-in-law,
passed from his bed to his grave at the Christmas feast. Richard Talbot
inherited house and lands, with the undefined sense of feudal
obligation to the head of his name, and ere long he was called upon to
fulfil those obli