"Frontignac at ten shillings the bottle!" he exclaimed.
"Still, claret never does lie easy on my stomach," Richard explained, intent upon blaming Lord Gervase s wine--since he could think of nothing else--for his condition.
Vallancey looked at him shrewdly.

"My cock," said he, "if you're to fight we'll have to mend your temper." He took it upon himself to ring the bell, and to order up two bottles of Canary and one of brandy.

If he was to get his man to the ground at all--and young Vallancey had a due sense of his responsibilities in that connection--it would be well to supply Richard with something to replace the courage that had oozed out overnight.

Young Richard, never loath to fortify himself, proved amenable enough to the stiffly laced Canary that his friend set before him.

Then, to divert his mind, Vallancey, with that rash freedom that had made the whole of Somerset know him for a rebel, set himself to talk of the Protestant Duke and his right to the crown of England.
He was still at his talk, Richard listening moodily what time he was slowly but surely befuddling himself, when Sir Rowland--returning from Scoresby Hall--came to bring the news of his lack of success.