"Now you girls can jest's well come an' set in front o' me while I'm talkin'. I'll like it a heap better, I'm sure."
With great diffidence on the part of her attendants, and after much coaxing on Rebecca's part, this change was accomplished. The idea of being seated in the presence of royalty was in itself quite distasteful to these young courtiers, but upon this Rebecca had insisted from the first. It made her feel tired, she said, to see people standing continually on their feet.
"Well," she began, when all were disposed to their satisfaction, "it all happened in my country, ye know. 'Twas 'bout ten years ago now, I guess--or rather then--I mean it will be----"
Clarissa's wondering eyes caught the speaker's attention and she coughed.
"Never mind when 'twas," she went on. "Ye see, things are very different here--time as well's the rest. However, 'long 'bout then, my cousin Ann Sloc.u.m took a notion to 'nvite me down to Keene fer a little visit.
Phoebe--thet's my sister--she said I could go jest's well's not, an'
so I went. The fust night I was there, when dinner was over, of course I offered to wash up the dishes, seem'----"
An involuntary and unanimous gasp of amazement from her fair auditors cut Rebecca short at this point.
"Well," she said, a little anxiously, "what's the matter? Anythin'
wrong?"
The Lady Clarissa ventured to voice the general sentiment.
"Did we hear aright, your Highness?" she asked. "Said you--'wash up the dishes'?"
"Oh!" said Rebecca, conscious for the first time of her slip, "did that puzzle ye?"
"Do queens and princesses perform menial offices in America?" asked the Honorable Lady Margaret.
Short as was the time allowed, it had sufficed for Rebecca to compose a form of words which should not wound her conscience by direct falsehood, while not undeceiving her hearers as to her rank.
"Why, to tell ye the truth," she said, in a semi-confidential manner, "all the queens and princesses there are in America wash the dishes after dinner."
There was some whispering among the girls at this, and Rebecca's ears caught the expressions "pa.s.sing strange" and "most wonderful" more than once.
She waited until the first excitement thus produced had subsided and then proceeded.
"Of course Cousin Ann hadn't no objection, an' so I went into the kitchen. When we got through, blest ef she didn't ask me to wash out the dish-towels while she filled the lamps! Now----"
The growing amazement in the round, open eyes and shaking curls of her audience brought Rebecca once more to a standstill. Evidently some further explanation of this unwonted state of things would be expected.
To gain time for further invention, Rebecca rose and carried her knitting to the window as though to pick up a st.i.tch. Mechanically she glanced down into the court-yard, where there was now a large a.s.semblage, and uttered an exclamation of astonishment.
"Gracious alive!" she cried. "If there ain't a bicycle! Well, well, don't that look nat'ral, now! Makes me feel homesick."
She turned to her companions, each of whom was ceremoniously standing, but all showing clearly in their faces the curiosity which consumed them.
"Come 'long!" said Rebecca, smiling. "Come one and all! I'm blest ef ye don't make me think of Si Pray's dog waitin' to be whistled fer when Si goes out to walk."
The obedience to this summons was prompt and willing, and Rebecca turned again to observe those who came with the mysterious bicycle.
"Land o' sunshine!" she exclaimed, "did ye ever see sech a fat man as that! Do any of you girls know who 'tis?"
"'Tis Sir Percevall Hart, harbinger to the Queen, I ween," Clarissa replied.
"Gracious!" said Rebecca, anxiously. "I do hope now he ain't bringin'
any _very_ bad news!"
"Wherefore should he, your Highness?" said Clarissa.
"Why, if he's a harbinger of woe--ain't that what they call 'em?" she spoke, with some timidity.
"Nay," said the Lady Margaret. "Sir Percevall is reputed a wit and a pleasant companion, your Highness. He is harbinger to the Queen."
"An' who's the man with him in black togs an' rumpled stockin's?" said Rebecca. "The one holdin' the bicycle?"
"Mean you him holding the two bright wheels, your Highness?"
"Yes."
Lady Margaret could not answer, nor could any of the other attendants.
Could Rebecca have had a more advantageous view of the stranger, she would herself have been the only one in the palace to recognize him. She could only see his hat and his borrowed clothes, however, and her curiosity remained unsatisfied.
"That looks like Copernicus Droop's wheel," she muttered. "I wonder ef somebody's ben an' stole it while he was away. 'Twould serve him right fer givin' me the slip."
Then turning to Lady Margaret again, she continued:
"Would you mind runnin' down to ask who that man is, Miss Margaret?
Seems to me I know that bicycle."
Courtesying in silence, the maid backed out of the room and hurried down the stairs quite afire with the eagerness of her curiosity. This strange, bright-wheeled thing to which the American princess so easily applied a name, could only be some wonderful product of the New World.
She was overjoyed at the thought that she was to be the first to closely examine and perhaps to touch this curiosity.
Her plans were delayed, however, for when she reached the court-yard she found herself restrained by a row of men with halberds, one of whom informed her that her Majesty was returning from chapel.
The Queen and her retinue were obliged to pa.s.s across the courtyard on the way to the apartment where Elizabeth was to take her evening meal.
Her progress at such times was magnificently accompanied, and was often much delayed by her stopping to notice her favorites as she pa.s.sed them, and even at times to receive pet.i.tions.
Copernicus, who, as we have seen, had just arrived, was inclined to bewail the interruption caused by this procession, but his companion insisted that, on the contrary, all was for the best.
"Why, man," said he, "Dame Fortune hath us in her good books for a surety. What! Could we have planned all better had we willed it? To meet the Queen in progress from chapel! 'Twill go hard but Sir Percevall shall win his suit--and you, Master Droop, your monopolies. Mark me now--mark me well!"
So saying, the fat knight advanced and joined one of the long lines of courtiers already forming a hedge on each side of the direct way which the Queen was to traverse. Droop, leaning his bicycle against the palace wall and taking in his hands his phonograph and box of cylinders, placed himself behind his guide and watched the proceedings with eager curiosity.
A door opened at one end of the lane between the two courtiers and there appeared the first of a long procession of splendidly apparelled gentlemen-in-waiting, walking bareheaded two by two. Of these, the first were simple unt.i.tled knights and gentlemen. These were followed by barons, then earls, and lastly knights of the garter, each gentleman vying with the others in richness of apparel and lavish display of collars, orders, jewelled scabbards, and heavy chains of gold.
Behind these there came three abreast. These were the Lord High Chancellor, in wig and robes, carrying the Great Seal of England in a red silk bag. On his right walked a gentleman carrying the golden sceptre, jewelled and quaintly worked, while he on the left carried the sword of state, point up, in a red scabbard, studded with golden fleur-de-lis.
A few steps behind this imposing escort came the Queen, with a small but richly covered prayer-book in her hand. She looked very majestic on this occasion, being dressed in white silk bordered with pearls of the size of beans, over which was thrown a mantle of black silk shot with silver threads. An oblong collar of jewelled gold lay upon her otherwise bare bosom.
The Queen's train was very long and was carried by a marchioness, whose plain attire set off the magnificence of royalty.
As Elizabeth proceeded across the yard, she spoke to one by-stander or another, and Droop, looking on, made up his mind that the rule was that anyone to whom she addressed a word, or even a look, should drop forthwith to his knees and so remain until she had pa.s.sed, unless she pleased to extend her hand to raise him up.
On each side of this main procession there was a single file of five and twenty gentlemen pensioners, each carrying a gilt battle-axe.