that she
and her father would lodge there on their return, and the invitation
was accepted conditionally, Mr. Talbot writing to his wife, by the
carriers, to send such a load of good cheer from Bridgefield as would
amply compensate for the expenses of this hospitality.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE FETTERLOCK COURT.

People did not pity themselves so much for suspense when, instead of
receiving an answer in less than an hour, they had to wait for it for
weeks if not months. Mrs. Talbot might be anxious at Bridgefield, and
her son at Fotheringhay, and poor Queen Mary, whose life hung in the
balance, more heartsick with what old writers well named 'wanhope' than
any of them; but they had to live on, and rise morning after morning
without expecting any intelligence, unable to do anything but pray for
those who might be in perils unknown.

After the strain and effort of her trial, Mary had become very ill, and
kept her bed for many days. Humfrey continued to fulfil his daily
duties as commander of the guards set upon her, but he seldom saw or
spoke with any of her attendants, as Sir Andrew Melville, whom he knew
the best of them, had on some suspicion been separated from his
mistress and confined in another part of the Castle.

Sir Amias Paulett, too, was sick with gout and anxiety, and was much
relieved when Sir Drew Drury was sent to his assistance. The new
warder was a more courteous and easy-mannered person, and did not fret
himself or the prisoner with precautions like his colleague; and on Sir
Amias's reiterated complaint that the guards were not numerous enough,
he had brought down five fresh men, hired in London, fellows used to
all sorts of weapons, and at home in military discipline; but, as
Humfrey soon perceived, at home likewise in the license of camps, and
most incongruous companions for the simple village bumpkins, and the
precise retainers who had hitherto formed the garrison. He did his
best to keep order, but marvelled how Sir Amias would view their
excesses when he should come forth again from his sick chamber.

The Queen was better, though still lame; and on a fine November
noontide she obtained, by earnest entreaty, permission to gratify her
longing for free air by taking a turn in what was called the Fetterlock
Court, from the Yorkist badge of the falcon and fetterlock carved
profusely on the decorations. This was the inmost strength of the
castle, on the highest ground, an octagon court, w