would
have been an insult to the Earl, and the bell soon clanged to call them
down to their places in the hall. Even Humfrey had brought in his
cloak-bag wherewithal to make himself presentable, and soon appeared, a
well-knit and active figure, in a plain dark blue jerkin, with white
slashes, and long hose knitted by his mother's dainty fingers, and
well-preserved shoes with blue rosettes, and a flat blue velvet cap,
with an exquisite black and sapphire feather in it fastened by a
curious brooch. His hair was so short that its naturally strong curl
could hardly be seen, his ruddy sunburnt face could hardly be called
handsome, but it was full of frankness and intelligence, and beaming
with honest joy, and close to him moved little Diccon, hardly able to
repress his ecstasy within company bounds, and letting it find vent in
odd little gestures, wriggling with his body, playing tunes on his
knee, or making dancing-steps with his feet.

Lord Shrewsbury welcomed his young kinsman as one who had grown from a
mere boy into a sturdy and effective supporter. He made the new-comer
sit near him, and asked many questions, so that Humfrey was the chief
speaker all supper time, with here and there a note from his father,
the only person who had made the same voyage. All heard with eager
interest of the voyage, the weeds in the Gulf Stream, the strange birds
and fishes, of Walter Raleigh's Virginian colony and its ill success,
of the half-starved men whom Sir Richard Grenville had found only too
ready to leave Roanoake, of dark-skinned Indians, of chases of Spanish
ships, of the Peak of Teneriffe rising white from the waves, of
phosphorescent seas, of storms, and of shark-catching.

Supper over, the audience again gathered round the young traveller, a
perfect fountain of various and wonderful information to those who had
for the most part never seen a book of travels. He narrated simply and
well, without his boyish shy embarrassment and awkwardness, and
likewise, as his father alone could judge, without boasting, though, if
to no one else, to Diccon and Cis, listening with wide open eyes, he
seemed a hero of heroes. In the midst of his narration a message came
that the Queen of Scots requested the presence of Mistress Cicely.
Humfrey stared in discomfiture, and asked when she would return.

"Not to-night," faltered the girl, and the mother added, for the
benefit of the bystanders, "For lack of other ladies of the household,