The Panchronicon

  CHAPTER X

  HOW THE QUEEN READ HER NEWSPAPER

  For Rebecca, left alone in the goldsmiths' city house, the past nightand day had been a period of perplexity. She had been saved from anyserious anxiety by the arrival of a messenger soon after Phoebe'sdeparture, who had brought her word that her "mistress" was safe in thePeacock Inn, and had left a verbal message commanding her to come withhim at once to rejoin her.

  This command she naturally refused to comply with, and sent word to themuch-puzzled man-servant that she wasn't to be "bossed around" by heryounger sister, and that if Phoebe wanted to see her she knew where tofind her. This message was delivered to old Mistress Burton, whorefrained from repeating it to her step-daughter. For her own ends, shethought it best to keep Mistress Mary from her nurse, whose influenceseemed invariably opposed to her own.

  Left thus alone, Rebecca had had a hitherto unequalled opportunity forreflection, and the result of her deliberations was most practical.Whatever might be said of the inhabitants of London in general, it wasclear to her mind that poor Phoebe was mentally unbalanced.

  The only remedy was to lure her into the Panchronicon, and regain thedistant home they ought never to have left.

  The first step to be taken was therefore to rejoin Copernicus and seethat all was in readiness. It was her intention then to seek her sisterand, by humoring her delusion and exercising an appropriately benevolentcunning, to induce her to enter the conveyance which had brought themboth into this disastrous complication. The latter part of thisprogramme was not definitely formed in her mind, and when she sought togive it shape she found herself appalled both by its difficulties and bythe probable twists that her conscience would have to undergo in puttingher plan into practice.

  "Well, well!" she exclaimed at length. "I'll cross that bridge when Icome to it. The fust thing is to find Copernicus Droop."

  It was at about eleven o'clock in the morning of the day afterPhoebe's departure that Rebecca came to this audible conclusion, andshe arose at once to don her jacket and bonnet. This accomplished, shegathered up her precious satchel and umbrella and approached herbed-room window to observe the weather.

  She had scarcely fixed her eyes upon the muddy streets below her whenshe uttered a cry of amazement.

  "Good gracious alive! Ef there ain't Copernicus right this minute!"

  Out through the inner hall and down the stairs she hurried with short,shuffling steps, impatient of the clinging rushes on the floor.Speechless she ran past good Mistress Goldsmith, who called after her invain. The only reply was the slam of the front door.

  Once in the street, Rebecca glanced sharply up and down. The man shesought was not in sight, but she shrewdly counted upon his having turnedinto Leadenhall Street, toward which she had seen him walking. Thithershe hurried, and to her infinite gratification she saw, about a hundredyards ahead, the unmistakable trousers, coat, and Derby hat so familiaron the person of Copernicus Droop.

  "Hey!" she cried. "Hey, there, Mister Droop! Copernicus Droop!"

  She ended with a shrill, far-carrying, long-drawn call that sounded muchlike a "whoop." Evidently he heard her, for he started, looked over hisshoulder, and then set off with redoubled speed, as though anxious toavoid her.

  She stopped short for a moment, paralyzed with astonishment.

  "Well!" she exclaimed. "If I ever! I suppose it's a case of 'the wickedflee,' but he can't get away from me as easy's that."

  And then began a race the like of which was never seen before. Inadvance, Francis Bacon scurried forward as fast as he dared withoutrunning, dreading the added publicity his rapid progress was sure tobring upon him, yet dreading even more to be overtaken by this amazingfemale apparition, in whose accents and intonation he recognized anotherof the Droop species.

  Behind Bacon came Rebecca, conspicuous enough in her prim New Englandgown and bonneted head, but doubly remarkable as she skipped from stoneto stone to avoid the mud and filth of the unpaved streets, and swingingin one hand her little black satchel and in the other her faithfulumbrella.

  From time to time she called aloud: "Hey, stop there! Copernicus Droop!Stop, I say! It's only Rebecca Wise!"

  The race would have been a short one, indeed, had she not found itimpossible to ignore the puddles, rubbish heaps, and other obstacleswhich half-filled the streets and obstructed her path at every turn.Bacon, who was accustomed to these conditions and had no impeding skirtsto check him, managed, therefore, to hold his own without actuallyrunning.

  These two were not long left to themselves. Such a progress could nottake place in the heart of England's capital without forming in itstrain an ever-growing suite of the idle and curious. Ere long a rabbleof street-walkers, beggars, pick-pockets, and loafers were stampingbehind Rebecca, repeating her shrill appeals with coarse variations, andassailing her with jokes which, fortunately for her, were worded interms which her New England ears could not comprehend.

  In this order the two strangely clad beings hurried down toward theThames; he in the hope of finding a waterman who should carry him beyondthe reach of his dreaded persecutors; she counting upon the river, whichshe knew to lie somewhere ahead, to check the supposed Copernicus in hisobstinate flight.

  To the right they turned, through St. Clement's Lane into Crooked Lane,and the ever-growing mob clattered noisily after them, shouting andlaughing a gleeful chorus to her occasional solo.

  Leaving Eastcheap and its grimy tenements, they emerged from New FishStreet and saw the gleam of the river ahead of them.

  At this moment one of the following crowd, more enterprising than hisfellows, ran close up behind Rebecca and, clutching the edge of herjacket, sought to restrain her.

  "Toll, lass, toll!" he shouted. "Who gave thee leave to run races inLondon streets?"

  Rebecca became suddenly fully conscious for the first time of thesensation she had created. Stopping short, she swung herself free andlooked her bold assailant fairly in the face.

  "Well, young feller," she said, with icy dignity, "what can I do feryou?"

  The loafer fell back as she turned, and when she had spoken, he turnedin mock alarm and fled, crying as he ran:

  "Save us--save us! Ugly and old as a witch, I trow!"

  Those in the background caught his final words and set up a new crywhich boded Rebecca no good.

  "A witch--a witch! Seize her! Stone her!"

  As they now hung back momentarily in a new dread, self-created in theirsuperstitious minds, Rebecca turned again to the chase, but was sorelyput out to find that her pause had given the supposed Droop theadvantage of a considerable gain. He was now not far from the riverside. Hoping he could go no farther, she set off once more in pursuit,observing silence in order to save her breath.

  She would apparently have need of it to save herself, for the stragglersin her wake were now impelled by a more dangerous motive than merecuriosity or mischief. The cry of "Witch" had awakened cruel depths intheir breasts, and they pressed forward in close ranks with less noiseand greater menace than before.

  Two or three rough fellows paused to kick stones loose from the clay ofthe streets, and in a few moments the all-unconscious Rebecca would havefound herself in a really terrible predicament but for an accidentseemingly without bearing upon her circumstances.

  Without warning, someone in the upper story of one of the houses near bythrew from a window a pail of dirty water, which fell with a startlingsplash a few feet in front of Rebecca.

  She stopped in alarm and looked up severely.

  "I declare to goodness! I b'lieve the folks in this town are all plumbcrazy! Sech doin's! The idea of throwin' slops out onto the road! Why,the Kanucks wouldn't do that in New Hampshire!"

  Slipping her bag onto her left wrist, she loosened the band of herumbrella and shook the ribs free.

  "Lucky I brought my umbrella!" she exclaimed. "I guess it'll be saferfer me to h'ist this, ef things is goin' to come out o' windows!"

  All unknown to her, two or three of the rabble behin
d her were in theact of poising themselves with great stones in their hands, and theirmuscles were stiffening for a cast when, just in the nick of time, theobstinate snap yielded, and with a jerk the umbrella spread itself.

  Turning the wide-spread gloria skyward, Rebecca hurried forward oncemore, still bent upon overtaking Copernicus Droop.

  That simple act saved her.

  A mere inactive witch was one thing--a thing scarce distinguishable fromany other old woman. But this transformation of a black wand into awide-spreading tent was so obviously the result of magic, that it wasself-evident they had to do with a witch in full defensive and offensivestate.

  Stones fell from deadened hands and the threatening growls and crieswere lost in a unanimous gasp of alarm. A moment's pause andthen--utter rout. There was a mad stampede and in a trice the street wasempty. Rebecca was alone under that inoffensive guardian umbrella.

  To her grief, she found no one on the river's brim. He whom she soughtwas half-way across, his conveyance the only wherry in sight,apparently. Having passed beyond the houses, Rebecca now folded herumbrella and looked carefully about her. To her great relief, she caughtsight of a man's figure recumbent on a stone bench near at hand. A pairof oars lay by him and betrayed his vocation.

  She stepped promptly to his side and prodded him with her umbrella.

  "Here, mister!" she cried. "Wake up, please. What do you charge forferryin' folks across the river?"

  The waterman sat up, rubbed his eyes and yawned. Then, without lookingat his fare, he led the way to his boat without reply. He was chary ofwords, and after all, did not all the world know what to pay forconveyance to Southwark?

  Rebecca gazed after him for a moment and then, shaking her headpityingly, she murmured:

  "Tut--tut! Deef an' dumb, poor man! Dear, dear!"

  To hesitate was to lose all hope of overtaking the obstinate Copernicus.So, first pointing vigorously after the retreating boat with closedumbrella, and with many winks and nods which she supposed supplied fullmeaning to her gestures, she stepped into the wherry, and the two atonce glided out on the placid bosom of the Thames.

  Far different was the spectacle that greeted her then from that whichmay now be witnessed near London Bridge. In those days that bridge wasalone visible, not far to the East, and the tide that moves now sodarkly between stone embankments beneath a myriad of grimy steamers,then flowed brightly between low banks and wooden wharves, bearing agliding fleet of sailing-vessels. To the south were the fields and woodsof the open country, save where loomed the low frame houses and thegreen-stained wharves of Southwark village. Behind Rebecca was a vasthuddle of frame buildings, none higher than three stories, sharp ofgable overhanging narrow streets, while here a tower and there a steeplestood sentinel over the common herd. To the east the four great stonecylinders of the Tower, frowning over the moving world at their feet,loomed grimly then as now.

  Rebecca had fixed her eyes at first with a fascinated stare on thismighty mass of building, penetrated by a chill of fear, althoughignorant of its tragic significance. Turning after a minute or two fromcontemplation of that gloomy monument of tyrannical power, she gazedeagerly forward again, bent upon keeping sight of the man she waspursuing.

  He and his boat had disappeared, but her disappointment was at oncelost in admiring stupefaction as she gazed upon a magnificent craftbearing across the bows of her boat and coming from the direction ofWestminster.

  The hull, painted white, was ornamented with a bold arabesque of gildingwhich seemed to flow naturally in graceful lines from the garment of agolden image of Victory mounted high on the towering prow.

  From the deck at the front and back rose two large cabins whose sideswere all of brilliant glass set between narrow panels on which werepaintings, which Rebecca could not clearly distinguish from where shewas sitting.

  At the waist, between and below the cabins, ten oars protruded from eachside of the barge, flashing rhythmically as they swept forward together,seeming to sprinkle drops of sunlight into the river.

  The splendor of this apparition, contrasting as it did with the smalland somewhat dingy craft otherwise visible above the bridge, gave a newdirection to Rebecca's thoughts and forced from her an almostinvoluntary exclamation.

  "For the lands sakes!" she murmured. "Whoever in the world carries on insech style's that!"

  The waterman looked over his shoulder, and no sooner caught sight of theglittering barge than, with a powerful push of his oars, he backed waterand brought his little boat to a stand.

  "The Queen!" he exclaimed.

  Rebecca glanced at the boatman with slightly raised brows.

  "Thought you was deef an' dumb," she said. Then, turning once more tothe still approaching barge, she continued: "An' so thet's QueenVictoria's ship, is it?"

  "Victoria!" growled the waterman. "Ye seem as odd in speech as in dress,mistress. Who gave ye license to miscall our glorious sovereign?"

  Rebecca's brows were knit in a thoughtful frown and she scarce knew whather companion said. The approach of the Queen suggested a new plan ofaction. She had heard of queens as all-powerful rulers, women whosecommands would be obeyed at once and without question, in small andpersonal things as in matters of greater moment. Of Queen Victoria, too,some accounts had reached her, and all had been in confirmation of thatruler's justice and goodness of heart.

  Rebecca's new plan was therefore to appeal at once to this benignsovereign for aid, entreat her to command the Burtons to releasePhoebe and to order Copernicus Droop to carry both sisters back totheir New England home. This course recommended itself strongly to thestrictly honest Rebecca, because it eliminated at once all necessity for"humoring" Phoebe's madness, with its implied subterfuges andequivocations. The moment was propitious for making an attempt whichcould at least do no harm, she thought. She determined to carry out theplan which had occurred to her.

  Standing up in the boat: "What's the Queen's last name?" she asked.

  "Be seated, woman!" growled the waterman, who was growing uneasy atsight of the increasing eccentricity of his fare. "The Queen's name isElizabeth, as well ye know," he concluded, more gently. He hoped tosoothe the woman's frenzy by concessions.

  "Now, mister," said Rebecca, severely, "don't you be sassy to me, fer Iwon't stand it. Of course, I don't want her first name--she ain't hiredhelp. What's the Queen's family name--quick!"

  The waterman, now convinced that his fare was a lunatic, could think ofnaught better than to use soothing tones and to reply promptly, howeverabsurd her questions. "I' faith," he said, in a mild voice, "I' faith,mistress, her Gracious Majesty is of the line of Tudor. Methought----"

  But he broke off in horror.

  Waving her umbrella high above her head, Rebecca, still standing uprightin the boat, was calling at the top of her voice:

  "Hallo there! Mrs. Tudor! Stop the ship, will ye! I want to speak toMrs. Tudor a minute!"

  All nature seemed to shiver and shrink in silence at this enormousbreach of etiquette--to use a mild term. Involuntarily the ten pairs ofoars in the royal barge hung in mid-air, paralyzed by that suddenoutrage. The great, glittering structure, impelled by momentum, glidedforward directly under the bows of Rebecca's boat and not a hundredyards away.

  Again Rebecca's cry was borne shrill and clear across the water.

  "Hallo! Hallo there! Ain't Mrs. Tudor on the ship? I want to speak toher!" Then, turning to the stupefied and trembling waterman:

  "Why don't you row, you? What's the matter, anyway? Don't ye see they'vestopped to wait fer us?"

  Someone spoke within the after cabin. The command was repeated in grufftones by a man's voice, and the ten pairs of oars fell as one into thewater and were held rigid to check the progress of the barge.

  "Wherry, ahoy!" a hail came from the deck.

  "Ay, ay, sir!" the waterman cried.

  "Come alongside!"

  "Ay, ay, sir!"

  Pale and weak with dread, the boatman pulled as well as he could towardthe splendid ve
ssel ahead, while Rebecca resumed her seat, quitesatisfied that all was as it should be.

  A few strokes of the oars brought them to the barge's side, andRebecca's waterman threw a rope to one of the crew.

  A young man in uniform glowered down upon them, and to him the watermanturned, pulling off his cap and speaking with the utmost humility.

  "The jade is moon-struck, your worship!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "I wouldnot for a thousand pound----"

  "Moon-struck!" snapped the lieutenant. "Who gave thee commission toferry madmen, fellow?"

  The poor waterman, at his wits' end, was about to reply when Rebeccainterposed.

  "Young man," she said, standing up, "I'll thank you to 'tend tobusiness. Is Mrs. Victoria Tudor at home?"

  At this moment a young gentleman, magnificently apparelled, steppedforth from the after cabin and approached the man in uniform.

  "Lieutenant," he said, "her Majesty commands that the woman be broughtbefore her in person. As for you," he continued, turning to thewaterman, "return whence you came, and choose your fares betterhenceforth."

  Two of the barge's crew extended each a hand to Rebecca.

  "Bend onto that, Poll!" said one, grinning.

  "Well, I declare!" exclaimed Rebecca. "I never see sech impident help inall my born days! Ain't ye got any steps for a body to climb?"

  A second gorgeously dressed attendant backed hastily out of the cabin.

  "Look alive!" he said, peremptorily. "Her Majesty waxes impatient. Whereis the woman?"

  "Ay, ay, sir!" replied the sailors. "Here she be!"

  They leaned far forward and, grasping the astonished Rebecca each by ashoulder, lifted her quickly over the rail.

  The first gentleman messenger beckoned to her and started toward thecabin.

  "Follow me!" he said, curtly.

  Rebecca straightened her skirt and bonnet, shook her umbrella, andturned quietly to the rail, fumbling with the catch of her bag.

  "I pity yer manners, young man!" she said, coldly. Then, with somedismay:

  "Here you, mister, don't ye want yer money?"

  But the waterman, only too glad to escape at all from being involved inher fate, was pulling back to the northern shore as fast as his boatwould go.

  "Suit yourself," said Rebecca, simply. "Saves me a dime, I guess."

  Turning then to the impatient gentleman waiting at the door:

  "Guess you're one o' the family, ain't ye? Is your ma in, young man?"

  Fortunately her full meaning was not comprehended, and the personaddressed contented himself with drawing aside the heavy curtain ofcloth of gold and motioning to Rebecca to precede him.

  She nodded graciously and passed into the cabin.

  "That's better," she said, with an ingratiating smile. "Good mannersnever did a mite o' harm, did they?"

  Before following her, the messenger turned again to the younglieutenant.

  "Give way!" he said.

  At once the sweeps fell together, and the great barge resumed its coursedown the river.

  As Rebecca entered the glass and gold enclosure, she was at first quitedazzled by the crowd of gorgeously arrayed courtiers who stood in twocompact groups on either side of her. Young and old alike, all these menof the sword and cloak seemed vying one with another for precedence inmagnificence and foppery. The rarest silks of every hue peeped forththrough slashed velvets and satins whose rustling masses bedecked men ofevery age and figure. Painted faces and ringed ears everywhere toppedsnowy ruffles deep and wide, while in every hand, scented gloves, fans,or like toys amused the idle fingers.

  In the background Rebecca was only vaguely conscious of a group ofladies in dresses of comparatively sober pattern and color; but seatedupon a luxurious cushioned bench just in front of the others, one of hersex struck Rebecca at once as the very centre and climax of themagnificence that surrounded her.

  Here sat Elizabeth, the vain, proud, tempestuous daughter of "bluff KingHal." Already an old woman, she yet affected the dress and carriage ofyoung maidenhood, possessing unimpaired the vanity of a youthful beauty,and, despite her growing ugliness, commanding the gallant attentionsthat gratified and supported that vanity.

  Her face, somewhat long and thin, was carefully painted, but not sosuccessfully as to hide the many wrinkles traced there by her sixty-fiveyears. Her few blackened teeth and her false red hair seemed to bemocked by the transcendent lustre of the rich pearl pendants in herears. Her thin lips, hooked nose, and small black eyes betokenedsuppressed anger as she glared upon her admiring visitor; but, far frombeing alarmed by the Queen's expression, Rebecca was only dividedbetween her admiration of her magnificent apparel and blushinguneasiness at sight of the frankly uncovered bosom which Elizabethexhibited by right of her spinsterhood. Rebecca remembered everafterward how she wished that "all those men" would sink through thefloor of the cabin.

  The Queen was at first both angry at the unheard-of language Rebecca hadused, and curious to see what manner of woman dared so to expressherself. But now that she set eyes upon the outlandish garb of herprisoner, her curiosity grew at the expense of her wrath, and she satsilent for some time while her little black eyes sought to explore theinmost depths of Rebecca's mind.

  Rebecca, for her part, was quite unconscious of having infringed any ofthe rules of courtly etiquette, and, without expressing her belief inher complete social equality with the Queen or anyone else present, wasso entirely convinced of this equality that she would have deemed astatement of it ridiculously superfluous.

  For a few moments she stood in the middle of the open space immediatelybefore the Queen, partly dazed and bewildered into silence, partlyexpectant of some remark from her hostess.

  At length, observing the grimly rigid aspect of the silent Queen,Rebecca straightened herself primly and remarked, with her most formalair: "I s'pose you are the Queen, ma'am. You seem to be havin' a littleparty jest now. I hope I'm not intruding but to tell ye the truth, Mrs.Tudor, I've got into a pretty pickle and I want to ask a little favor ofyou."

  She looked about to right and left as though in search of something.

  "Don't seem to be any chairs around, only yours," she continued. Then,with a quick gesture of the hand: "No, don't get up. Set right stillnow. One o' your friends here can get me a chair, I guess," and shelooked very meaningly into the face of a foppish young courtier whostood near her, twisting his thin yellow beard.

  At this moment the rising wonder of the Queen reached a climax, and sheburst into speech with characteristic emphasis.

  "What the good jere!" she cried. "Hath some far planet sent us amessenger. The dame is loyal in all her fantasy. Say, my Lord ofNottingham, hath the woman a frenzy, think you?"

  The gentleman addressed stood near the Queen and was conspicuous for hisnoble air. His prominent gray eyes under rounded brows lighted up along, oval face surmounted by a high, bald forehead. The long nose wasaquiline, and the generous, full-lipped mouth was only half hidden by aneatly trimmed full blond beard. Rebecca noticed his dress particularlyas he stepped forward at the Queen's summons, and marvelled at the twodoublets and heavy cape coat over which hung a massive gold chainsupporting the brilliant star of some order. She wondered how he couldbreathe with that stiff ruff close up under his chin and inclineddownward from back to front.

  Dropping on one knee, Nottingham began his reply to the Queen's inquiry,though ere he finished his sentence he rose to his feet again at agracious sign from his royal mistress.

  "May it please your Majesty," he said, "I would humbly crave leave toremove the prisoner from a presence she hath nor wit nor will toreverence. Judicial inquiry, in form appointed, may better determinethan my poor judgment whether she be mad or bewitched."

  This solemn questioning of her sanity produced in Rebecca's mind ateasing compound of wrath and uneasiness. These people seemed to findsomething fundamentally irregular in her behavior. What could it be? Thesituation was intolerable, and she set to work in her straightforward,energetic way to bring it to
an end.

  Stepping briskly up to the astonished Earl of Nottingham, she plantedherself firmly before him, turning her back upon Elizabeth.

  "Now look a-here, Mr. Nottingham," she said, severely, "I'd like to knowwhat in the world you see that's queer about me or my ways. What's thematter, anyway? I came here to make a quiet call on that lady," here shepointed at the Queen with her umbrella, "and instead of anybody bringin'a chair, or sayin' 'How d'ye do,' the whole raft of ye hev done nothin'but stare or call me loony. I s'pose you're mad because I've interruptedyour party, but didn't that man there invite me in? Ef you're all sodreadful particler, I'll jest get out o' here till Mrs. Tudor can see meprivate. I'll set outside, ef I can find a chair."

  With an air of offended dignity she stalked toward the door, but turnedere she had gone ten steps and continued, addressing the assembledcompany collectively:

  "As fer bein' loony, I can tell you this. Ef you was where I come fromin America, they'd say every blessed one of ye was crazy as a hen withher head off."

  "America!" exclaimed the Queen, as a new thought struck her. "America!Tell me, dame, come you from the New World?"

  "That's what it's sometimes called in the geographies," Rebecca stifflyreplied. "I come from Peltonville, New Hampshire, myself. Perhaps I'dought to introduce myself. My name's Rebecca Wise, daughter of Wilmotand Nancy Wise, both deceased."

  She concluded her sentence with more of graciousness than she had shownin the beginning, and the Queen, now fully convinced of the innocentsincerity of her visitor, showed a countenance of half-amused,half-eager interest.

  "Why, Sir Walter," she cried, "this cometh within your province,methinks. If that this good woman be an American, you should be bestable to parley with her and learn her will."

  A dark-haired, stern-visaged man of middle height, dressed lessextravagantly than his fellows, acknowledged this address by advancingand bending one knee to the deck. Here was no longer the gay youngcourtier who so gallantly spoiled a handsome cloak to save hissovereign's shoes, but the Raleigh who had fought a hundred battles forthe same mistress and had tasted the bitterness of her jealous crueltyin reward.

  There was in his pose and manner, however, much of that old grace whichhad first endeared him to Elizabeth, and even now served to fix herfickle favor.

  "Most fair and gracious Majesty," he said in a low, well-modulatedvoice, turning upward a seeming fascinated eye, "what Walter Raleighhath learned of any special knowledge his sovereign hath taught him, andall that he is is hers of right."

  "'Tis well, my good knight," said Elizabeth, beckoning with her slenderfinger that he might rise. "We know your true devotion and require nowthis service, that you question this stranger in her own tongueconcerning her errand here and her quality and estate at home."

  As Raleigh rose and advanced toward Rebecca, without turning away fromthe Queen, the half-bewildered American brought the end of her umbrellasharply down upon the floor with a gesture of impatience.

  "What everlastin' play-actin' ways!" she snapped. Then, addressing SirWalter: "Say, Mr. Walter," she continued, "ef you can't walk onlysideways, you needn't trouble to travel clear over here to me. I'll cometo you."

  Suiting the action to the word, Rebecca stepped briskly forward untilshe stood in front of the rather crestfallen courtier.

  He rallied promptly, however, and marshalling by an effort all he couldremember of the language of the red man, he addressed the astonishedRebecca in that tongue.

  "What's that?" she said.

  Again Sir Walter poured forth an unintelligible torrent of syllableswhich completed Rebecca's disgust.

  With a pitying smile, she folded her hands across her stomach.

  "Who's loony now?" she said, quietly.

  Raleigh gazed helplessly from Rebecca to the Queen and back again fromthe Queen to Rebecca.

  Elizabeth, who had but imperfectly heard what had passed between thetwo, leaned forward impatiently.

  "What says she, Raleigh?" she demanded. "Doth she give a good account?"

  "Good my liege," said Raleigh, with a despairing gesture, "an the damebe from America, her tribe and race must needs be a distant one, placedremote from the coast. The natives of the Floridas----"

  "Florida!" exclaimed Rebecca. "What you talkin' about, anyway? That'saway down South. I come from New Hampshire, I tell you."

  "Know you that region, Raleigh?" said the Queen, anxiously.

  Raleigh shook his head with a thoughtful expression.

  "Nay, your Majesty," he replied. "And if I might venture to hint mydoubts--" He paused.

  "Well, go on, man--go on!" said the Queen, impatiently.

  "I would observe that the name is an English one, and 'tis scarcecredible that in America, where our tongue is unknown, any region can benamed for an English county."

  "Land sakes!" exclaimed Rebecca, in growing amazement. "Don't knowEnglish! Why--don't I talk as good English as any of ye? You don't haveto talk Bible talk to speak English, I sh'd hope!"

  Elizabeth frowned and settled back in her chair, turning her piercingeyes once more upon her mysterious visitor.

  "Your judgment is most sound, Sir Walter," she said. "In sooth, 'twerepassing strange were our own tongue to be found among the savages of theNew World! What have ye to say to this, mistress?"

  Rebecca turned her eyes from one to the other of the bystanders,doubtful at first whether or not they were all in a conspiracy to mockher. Her good sense told her that this was wellnigh impossible, and shefinally came to the conclusion that sheer ignorance was the onlyexplanation.

  "Well, well!" she exclaimed at last. "I've heerd tell about how simpleBritishers was, but this beats all! Do you reely mean to tell me," shecontinued, vehemently nodding her head at the Queen, "that you thinkthe's nothin' but Indians in America?"

  A murmur of indignation spread through the assembly caused by languageand manners so little suited to the address of royalty.

  "The woman hath lost her wits!" said the Queen, dryly.

  "There 'tis again!" said Rebecca, testily. "Why, ef it comes to talk ofsimpletons and the like, I guess the pot can't call the kettle black!"

  Elizabeth gripped the arm of her chair and leaned forward angrily, whiletwo or three gentlemen advanced, watching their mistress for the firstsign of a command. At the same moment, a triumphant thought occurred toRebecca, and, dropping her umbrella, she opened her satchel with bothhands.

  "Ye needn't to get mad, Mrs. Tudor," she said. "I didn't mean anyoffence, but I guess you wouldn't like to be called a lunatic yerself.See here," she continued, dragging forth a section of the newspaperwhich she had brought with her, "ef you folks won't believe my word,jest look at this! It's all here in the newspaper--right in print.There!"

  She held the paper high where all might see, and with one accord Queenand courtiers craned forward eagerly, burning with curiosity at sight ofthe printed columns interspersed with nineteenth-century illustrations.

  Rebecca stepped forward and handed the paper to the Queen, and then,drawing forth another section from her bag, she carried it to thebewildered Raleigh, who took it like one in a trance.

  For some time no one spoke. Elizabeth turned the paper this way andthat, reading a bit here and a bit there, and gazing spellbound upon theenigmatic pictures.

  Having completely mastered the situation, Rebecca now found time toconsider her comfort. Far on one side, near the door through which shehad entered, there stood a youth of perhaps sixteen, clad in thesomewhat fantastic garb of a page. Having picked up her umbrella,Rebecca approached this youth and said in a sharp whisper:

  "Couldn't you get me a chair, sonny?"

  The lad disappeared with startling promptitude, but he did not return.It was an agony of perplexity and shyness which had moved him, not awillingness to serve.

  Rebecca gazed about at the etiquette-bound men and women around her andmuttered, with an indignant snort and toss of the head:

  "Set o' decorated haystacks!"

  Then, wi
th head held high and a frigid "Beg pardon, mister!" she elbowedher way through the dense throng of gentlemen-in-waiting and seatedherself on the bench arranged along the side of the cabin.

  "Oof!" she exclaimed. "Feels though my legs would drop clear off!"

  At length the Queen looked up.

  "Why, what now!" she exclaimed. "Whither hath the strange woman gone?"

  A tall man dressed in black and gold stepped forward and dropped uponone knee. He had a long, humorous face, with high cheek bones, astraight, good-humored mouth, with a high mustache well off the lip anda pointed beard. The eyes, set far apart, twinkled with the light of funas he awaited permission to speak.

  "Well, my Lord of Southampton," said the Queen, kindly, "I doubt somegay mischief be afoot. Your face tells me as much, my lord."

  "Nay, my liege," was the humble reply. "Can my face so far forget theduty owed to Royalty as to speak thus, not being first admitted todiscourse!"

  Elizabeth smiled and replied:

  "Even so, my lord, but we forgive the offence if that your face hathspoken truth. Know you aught of the strange woman? Pray be standing."

  The earl arose and replied:

  "Of her rank and station, she must be a queen at least, or she dothforget herself. This may your Majesty confirm if but these yourMajesty's servants be commanded to cross the room."

  Elizabeth, puzzled, bowed her head slightly, and the courtiers behindwhom Rebecca had sought rest walked with one accord to the other side ofthe cabin, revealing to the astonished eyes of the Queen her visitorquietly seated upon the bench.

  Rebecca nodded with a pleased look.

  "Well, there!" she exclaimed. "Much obliged to you all. That's certainlybetter."

  "Dame," said Elizabeth, sternly, "is this the respect you show to themabove you in America?"

  "Above me!" said Rebecca, straightening up stiffly. "There ain't anybodyput above me at home, I can tell you. Ef the' was, I'd put 'em downmighty quick, I guess."

  Elizabeth raised her brows and, leaning toward the lord treasurer, whostood at her side, she said in an undertone:

  "This must be some sovereign princess in her own country, my lord. Howcomes it I have not had earlier intelligence of her arrival in thisrealm?"

  Lord Burleigh bowed profoundly and mumbled something about its beingout of his immediate province--he would have investigation made--etc.,etc.

  The Queen cut him short a little impatiently.

  "Let it be done, my lord," she said.

  Then turning to Rebecca, she continued:

  "Our welcome is somewhat tardy, but none the less sincere. England hathe'er been friendly to the American, and you had been more fittinglyreceived had our informants been less negligent."

  Here the Queen shot a glance at poor Sir Walter Raleigh, who now seemedthe personification of discomfiture.

  "By what name are you called?" Elizabeth continued.

  "Wise," said Rebecca, very graciously, "Rebecca Wise."

  "Lady Rebecca, will you sit nearer?"

  Instantly one of the pages sprang forward with a low chair, which, inobedience to a sign from the Queen, he placed at her right hand.

  "Why, I'd be right pleased," said Rebecca. "That is, if the other folksdon't mind," she continued, looking around. "I don't want to spile yourparty."

  So saying, she advanced and sat beside the Queen, who now turned oncemore to the luckless Raleigh.

  "Well, Sir Walter," she said, "what say you now? You have the printedproof. Can you make aught of it? How comes it that in all your finetravels in the New World you have heard no English spoken?"

  "Oh, I dare say 'tain't his fault!" said Rebecca, indulgently. "I'mtold they have a mighty queer way o' talkin' down South, where he's ben.Comes o' bein' brought up with darkies, ye know."

  Elizabeth took up the newspaper once more.

  "Was this printed in your realm, Lady Rebecca?" she asked.

  "Hey!"

  Elizabeth started haughtily, but recollected herself and repeated:

  "Was this leaf printed in your country?"

  "Oh, yes--yes, indeed! Down to New York. Pretty big paper, ain't it?"

  "Not voluminous alone, but right puzzling to plain English minds," saidthe Queen, scanning the paper severely. "Instance this."

  Slowly she read the opening lines of a market report:

  "The bulls received a solar-plexus blow yesterday when it was reportedthat the C. R. and L. directors had resigned in a body owing to theextensive strikes."

  "What words are these?" Elizabeth exclaimed in a despairing tone. "Whatis a plexus of the sun, and how doth it blow on a bull?"

  Rebecca jumped up and brought her head close to the Queen's, peeringover the paper which she held. She read and reread the paragraph inquestion and finally resumed her chair, slowly shaking her head.

  "I guess that's the Wall Street talk I've heerd tell of," she said. "Idon't understand that kind myself."

  "Why, Sir Walter," Elizabeth exclaimed, triumphantly, "here have we twoseparate tribes at least, each speaking its proper dialect. Can it bethat you have heard no word of these before?"

  "Even so, my liege," was the dejected reply, "the tribes of the Northare known to no man as yet."

  "Passing strange!" mused the Queen, running a critical eye over theprinted page before her. "Your talk, and that of others, hath been onlyof wild, copper-colored savages, living in rude huts and wearing onlyskins. Sure such as these have not types and printing-presses! What isthis book, Lady Rebecca?"

  "That's a newspaper, ma'am. Don't you have 'em in London? They come outevery day an' people pay a penny apiece fer 'em."

  Elizabeth flashed a stern glance upon her visitor.

  "'Twere best not go too far, my lady," she said, harshly. "E'entraveller's tales must in some sort ape the truth at least. Now,prithee, to what end is such a pamphlet printed--why, 'tis endless!"

  "I'll shet right up, Mis' Tudor, ef ye think I'm tellin' wrong stories,"said Rebecca, indignantly. "Thet's a newspaper an' thet's all there isto it."

  Elizabeth evaded the issue and turned now to the illustrations.

  "These be quaint-wondrous images!" she said. "Pray, what now may thisbe? Some fantastic reverie limned for amusement?"

  Rebecca jumped up again and peered over the Queen's shoulder.

  "Why, thet's a picture of the troops marchin' down Broadway, in NewYork City. See, it's all explained in print underneath it."

  "But these men carry arquebuses and wear a livery. And these temples--towhat false gods are they set up?"

  "False gods!" exclaimed Rebecca. "Bless your simple heart, those ain'ttemples. They're jest the buildin's where the men hev their offices."

  Elizabeth sat in mute contemplation, vainly seeking to realize it all.

  "My lords!" she burst forth suddenly, casting the paper violently to thefloor, "or this be rank forgery and fraud or else have we been strangelydeceived."

  She frowned at Sir Walter, who dropped his eyes.

  "'Tis not to be believed that such vast cities and great armies habitedby peoples polite and learned may be found across the sea and no reportof it come to them that visit there. How comes it that we must await sostrange a chance as this to learn such weighty news?"

  She paused and only silence ensued.

  Rebecca stooped and recovered the paper, which in falling had opened soas to expose new matter.

  "Don't be surprised," she said, soothingly. "I allus did hear thatBritishers knew mighty little 'bout America."

  Still frowning, Elizabeth mechanically stretched forth her hand andRebecca gave her the paper. The Queen glanced at the sheet and her facelost its stern aspect as she eagerly brought the print nearer to hereyes.

  "Why, what now!" she exclaimed. "God mend us, here have we strangeattire! Is this a woman of your tribe, my lady?"

  Rebecca looked and blushed. Then, in an uneasy tone, she said:

  "That's jest an advertisement fer a new corset, Mis' Tudor. I never didsee how folks ever allowe
d sech things to be printed--'tain'trespectable!"

  "A corset, call you it! And these, then?"

  "Oh, those are the styles, the fashions! That's the fashion page, yeknow. That's where they tell all about what the rich folks down to NewYork are wearin'."

  There was a murmur and a rustle among the ladies-in-waiting, who hadhitherto made no sign, and upon the Queen's cheek there spread an addedtinge, betokening a high degree of interest and gratification.

  "Ah!" she sighed, and glanced pleasantly over her shoulder, "here bematters of moment, indeed! Your Grace of Devonshire, what say you tothis?"

  Eagerly the elderly lady so addressed stepped forward and made a lowreverence.

  "Look--look here, ladies all!" Elizabeth continued, with a tremor ofexcitement in her voice. "Saw you ever such an array as this?"

  With one accord the whole bevy of assembled ladies pressed forward,trembling with delighted anticipation. A fashion sheet--and from theNew World! What wonder they were moved!

  Her Majesty was about to begin perusal of one of the fascinatingparagraphs wherein were described those marvellous fashion-plates whenthere was a cry outside of "Way 'nough!" and a moment later the smartyoung lieutenant who had before accosted Rebecca entered and stood atattention.

  Elizabeth looked up and frowned slightly. Folding the paper carefully,she called to Sir Walter, who still held in his unconscious hand theother section of the paper.

  "Bring hither yon sheet, Sir Walter," she cried. "Perchance there may befurther intelligence of this sort therein. We will peruse both pamphletsat our leisure anon."

  Then, turning to the Lord High Admiral:

  "My Lord of Nottingham," she said, "you may depart. Your duties awaityou without. Let it be the charge of your Grace," she continued,addressing the Duchess of Devonshire, "to attend her Highness the LadyRebecca. See that she be maintained as suits her rank, and let her benear our person that we may not lose aught of her society."

  The ceremony of landing prevented further discourse between Rebecca andthe Queen, and it was with the greatest interest that the strangerobserved every detail of the formal function.

  Peering through the glass sides of the cabin, Rebecca could see thelanding wharf, thronged with servants and magnificently dressedofficers, while beyond there loomed a long, two-storied white stonebuilding, with a round-arched entrance flanked by two towers. This wasGreenwich Palace, a favorite summer residence of the Queen.