he
twisted weapons of the sea unicorn, and in the middle of the room stood
a large, solid-looking table, adorned with a brown earthenware
beau-pot, containing a stiff posy of roses, southernwood, gillyflowers,
pinks and pansies, of small dimensions. On hooks, against the wall,
hung a pair of spurs, a shield, a breastplate, and other pieces of
armour, with an open helmet bearing the dog, the well-known crest of
the Talbots of the Shrewsbury line.

On the polished floor, near the window, were a child's cart, a little
boat, some whelks and limpets. Their owner, a stout boy of three years
old, in a tight, borderless, round cap, and home-spun, madder-dyed
frock, lay fast asleep in a big wooden cradle, scarcely large enough,
however, to contain him, as he lay curled up, sucking his thumb, and
hugging to his breast the soft fragment of a sea-bird's downy breast.
If he stirred, his mother's foot was on the rocker, as she sat
spinning, but her spindle danced languidly on the floor, as if "feeble
was her hand, and silly her thread;" while she listened anxiously, for
every sound in the street below. She wore a dark blue dress, with a
small lace ruff opening in front, deep cuffs to match, and a white
apron likewise edged with lace, and a coif, bent down in the centre,
over a sweet countenance, matronly, though youthful, and now full of
wistful expectancy; not untinged with anxiety and sorrow.

Susan Hardwicke was a distant kinswoman of the famous Bess of
Hardwicke, and had formed one of the little court of gentlewomen with
whom great ladies were wont to surround themselves. There she met
Richard Talbot, the second son of a relative of the Earl of Shrewsbury,
a young man who, with the indifference of those days to service by land
or sea, had been at one time a gentleman pensioner of Queen Mary; at
another had sailed under some of the great mariners of the western
main. There he had acquired substance enough to make the offer of his
hand to the dowerless Susan no great imprudence; and as neither could
be a subject for ambitious plans, no obstacle was raised to their
wedding.

He took his wife home to his old father's house in the precincts of
Sheffield Park, where she was kindly welcomed; but wealth did not so
abound in the family but that, when opportunity offered, he was
thankful to accept the command of the Mastiff, a vessel commissioned by
Queen Elizabeth, but built, manned, and maintained at the expense of
the Earl of S