Thus, not even her favourite Leicester’s misrepresentations could make the Queen forget her ancient friendship for “her own crow;” but meantime the relations between that “bunch of brethren,” black Norris and the rest, and Pelham, Hollock, and other high officers in Leicester’s army, had grown worse than ever.

One August evening there was a supper-party at Count Hollock’s quarters in Gertruydenberg.  A military foray into Brabant had just taken place, under the lead of the Count, and of the Lord Marshal, Sir William Pelham.  The marshal had requested Lord Willoughby, with his troop of horse and five hundred foot, to join in the enterprise, but, as usual, particular pains had been taken that Sir John Norris should know nothing of the affair.  Pelham and Hollock—­who was “greatly in love with Mr. Pelham”—­ had invited several other gentlemen high in Leicester’s confidence to accompany the expedition; and, among the rest, Sir Philip Sidney, telling him that he “should see some good service.”  Sidney came accordingly, in great haste, from Flushing, bringing along with him Edward Norris—­that hot-headed young man, who, according to Leicester, “greatly governed his elder brother”—­but they arrived at Gertruydenberg too late.  The foray was over, and the party—­“having burned a village, and killed some boors” —­were on their return.  Sidney, not perhaps much regretting the loss of his share in this rather inglorious shooting party, went down to the water-side, accompanied by Captain Norris, to meet Hollock and the other commanders.

As the Count stepped on shore he scowled ominously, and looked very much out of temper.

“What has come to Hollock?” whispered Captain Patton, a Scotchman, to Sidney.  “Has he a quarrel with any of the party?  Look at his face!  He means mischief to somebody.”

But Sidney was equally amazed at the sudden change in the German general’s countenance, and as unable to explain it.

Soon afterwards, the whole party, Hollock, Lewis William of Nassau, Lord Carew, Lord Essex, Lord Willoughby, both the Sidneys, Roger Williams, Pelham, Edward Norris, and the rest, went to the Count’s lodgings, where they supped, and afterwards set themselves seriously to drinking.

Norris soon perceived that he was no welcome guest; for he was not—­like Sidney—­a stranger to the deep animosity which had long existed between Sir John Norris and Sir William Pelham and his friends.  The carouse was a tremendous one, as usually was the case where Hollock was the Amphitryon, and, as the potations grew deeper, an intention became evident on the part of some of the company to behave unhandsomely to Norris.

For a time the young Captain ostentatiously restrained himself, very much after the fashion of those meek individuals who lay their swords on the tavern-table, with “God grant I may have no need of thee!” The custom was then prevalent at banquets for the revellers to pledge each other in rotation, each draining a great cup, and exacting the same feat from his neighbour, who then emptied his goblet as a challenge to his next comrade.