“Mine is this,” said Mr. Leigh; “if it be God’s will that my boy should become, hereafter, such a mariner as Sir Richard Grenville, let him go, and God be with him; but let him first bide here at home and be trained, if God give me grace, to become such a gentleman as Sir Richard Grenville.”

Sir Richard bowed low, and Mrs. Leigh catching up the last word—­

“There, Mr. Oxenham, you cannot gainsay that, unless you will be discourteous to his worship.  And for me—­though it be a weak woman’s reason, yet it is a mother’s:  he is my only child.  His elder brother is far away.  God only knows whether I shall see him again; and what are all reports of his virtues and his learning to me, compared to that sweet presence which I daily miss?  Ah!  Mr. Oxenham, my beautiful Joseph is gone; and though he be lord of Pharaoh’s household, yet he is far away in Egypt; and you will take Benjamm also!  Ah!  Mr. Oxenham, you have no child, or you would not ask for mine!”

“And how do you know that, my sweet madam!” said the adventurer, turning first deadly pale, and then glowing red.  Her last words had touched him to the quick in some unexpected place; and rising, he courteously laid her hand to his lips, and said—­“I say no more.  Farewell, sweet madam, and God send all men such wives as you.”

“And all wives,” said she, smiling, “such husbands as mine.”

“Nay, I will not say that,” answered he, with a half sneer—­and then, “Farewell, friend Leigh—­farewell, gallant Dick Grenville.  God send I see thee Lord High Admiral when I come home.  And yet, why should I come home?  Will you pray for poor Jack, gentles?”

“Tut, tut, man! good words,” said Leigh; “let us drink to our merry meeting before you go.”  And rising, and putting the tankard of malmsey to his lips, he passed it to Sir Richard, who rose, and saying, “To the fortune of a bold mariner and a gallant gentleman,” drank, and put the cup into Oxenham’s hand.

The adventurer’s face was flushed, and his eye wild.  Whether from the liquor he had drunk during the day, or whether from Mrs. Leigh’s last speech, he had not been himself for a few minutes.  He lifted the cup, and was in act to pledge them, when he suddenly dropped it on the table, and pointed, staring and trembling, up and down, and round the room, as if following some fluttering object.

“There!  Do you see it?  The bird!—­the bird with the white breast!”

Each looked at the other; but Leigh, who was a quick-witted man and an old courtier, forced a laugh instantly, and cried—­“Nonsense, brave Jack Oxenham!  Leave white birds for men who will show the white feather.  Mrs. Leigh waits to pledge you.”

Oxenham recovered himself in a moment, pledged them all round, drinking deep and fiercely; and after hearty farewells, departed, never hinting again at his strange exclamation.

After he was gone, and while Leigh was attending him to the door, Mrs. Leigh and Grenville kept a few minutes’ dead silence.  At last—­“God help him!” said she.