The Panchronicon Part 42

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

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

"The jade is moon-struck, your worship!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "I would not for a thousand pound----"

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

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

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

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

"Lieutenant," he said, "her Majesty commands that the woman be brought before her in person. As for you," he continued, turning to the waterman, "return whence you came, and choose your fares better henceforth."

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 in all 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. Where is the woman?"

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

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

The first gentleman messenger beckoned to her and started toward the cabin.

"Follow me!" he said, curtly.

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

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

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

But the waterman, only too glad to escape at all from being involved in her fate, was pulling back to the northern sh.o.r.e as fast as his boat would 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 person addressed contented himself with drawing aside the heavy curtain of cloth of gold and motioning to Rebecca to precede him.

She nodded graciously and pa.s.sed into the cabin.

"That's better," she said, with an ingratiating smile. "Good manners never did a mite o' harm, did they?"

Before following her, the messenger turned again to the young lieutenant.

"Give way!" he said.

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

As Rebecca entered the gla.s.s and gold enclosure, she was at first quite dazzled by the crowd of gorgeously arrayed courtiers who stood in two compact groups on either side of her. Young and old alike, all these men of the sword and cloak seemed vying one with another for precedence in magnificence and foppery. The rarest silks of every hue peeped forth through slashed velvets and satins whose rustling ma.s.ses bedecked men of every age and figure. Painted faces and ringed ears everywhere topped snowy 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 of ladies in dresses of comparatively sober pattern and color; but seated upon a luxurious cushioned bench just in front of the others, one of her s.e.x struck Rebecca at once as the very centre and climax of the magnificence that surrounded her.

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

Her face, somewhat long and thin, was carefully painted, but not so successfully as to hide the many wrinkles traced there by her sixty-five years. Her few blackened teeth and her false red hair seemed to be mocked by the transcendent l.u.s.tre of the rich pearl pendants in her ears. Her thin lips, hooked nose, and small black eyes betokened suppressed anger as she glared upon her admiring visitor; but, far from being alarmed by the Queen's expression, Rebecca was only divided between her admiration of her magnificent apparel and blushing uneasiness at sight of the frankly uncovered bosom which Elizabeth exhibited by right of her spinsterhood. Rebecca remembered ever afterward how she wished that "all those men" would sink through the floor of the cabin.

The Queen was at first both angry at the unheard-of language Rebecca had used, and curious to see what manner of woman dared so to express herself. But now that she set eyes upon the outlandish garb of her prisoner, her curiosity grew at the expense of her wrath, and she sat silent for some time while her little black eyes sought to explore the inmost depths of Rebecca's mind.

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

For a few moments she stood in the middle of the open s.p.a.ce immediately before the Queen, partly dazed and bewildered into silence, partly expectant 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 formal air: "I s'pose you are the Queen, ma'am. You seem to be havin' a little party 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 of you."

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 still now. One o' your friends here can get me a chair, I guess," and she looked very meaningly into the face of a foppish young courtier who stood near her, twisting his thin yellow beard.

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

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

The gentleman addressed stood near the Queen and was conspicuous for his n.o.ble air. His prominent gray eyes under rounded brows lighted up a long, oval face surmounted by a high, bald forehead. The long nose was aquiline, and the generous, full-lipped mouth was only half hidden by a neatly trimmed full blond beard. Rebecca noticed his dress particularly as he stepped forward at the Queen's summons, and marvelled at the two doublets and heavy cape coat over which hung a ma.s.sive gold chain supporting the brilliant star of some order. She wondered how he could breathe with that stiff ruff close up under his chin and inclined downward 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 a gracious sign from his royal mistress.

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

This solemn questioning of her sanity produced in Rebecca's mind a teasing compound of wrath and uneasiness. These people seemed to find something fundamentally irregular in her behavior. What could it be? The situation 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 planted herself firmly before him, turning her back upon Elizabeth.

"Now look a-here, Mr. Nottingham," she said, severely, "I'd like to know what in the world you see that's queer about me or my ways. What's the matter, anyway? I came here to make a quiet call on that lady," here she pointed 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 interrupted your party, but didn't that man there invite me in? Ef you're all so dreadful particler, I'll jest get out o' here till Mrs. Tudor can see me private. I'll set outside, ef I can find a chair."

With an air of offended dignity she stalked toward the door, but turned ere she had gone ten steps and continued, addressing the a.s.sembled company collectively: