that the story he had heard should create these ideas, that they should
wait on him in his sleep, and that every dream should bear some
relation to his deceased friend. The sun dazzled his eyes, the birds
serenaded him and diverted his attention, and a woodbine forced its way
through the window, and regaled his sense of smelling with its
fragrance. He arose, paid his devotions to Heaven, and then carefully
descended the narrow stairs, and went out at the door of the cottage.
There he saw the industrious wife and daughter of old Wyatt at their
morning work, the one milking her cow, the other feeding her poultry.
He asked for a draught of milk, which, with a slice of rye bread,
served to break his fast. He walked about the fields alone; for old
Wyatt and his two sons were gone out to their daily labour. He was soon
called back by the good woman, who told him that a servant from the
Baron waited to conduct him to the Castle. He took leave of Wyatt's
wife, telling her he would see her again before he left the country.
The daughter fetched his horse, which he mounted, and set forward with
the servant, of whom he asked many questions concerning his master's
family.

"How long have you lived with the Baron?"

"Ten years."

"Is he a good master?"

"Yes, Sir, and also a good husband and father."

"What family has he?"

"Three sons and a daughter."