The Golden Age of Science Fiction Novels Vol 02

by Anthology

  "Nay, your Majesty," was the reply. "'Tis his sovereign's will and high command that stiffens poor Percy's limbs, and in obedience only that he finds strength to present his suit."

  "A suit!" she exclaimed. "Pride cometh before a fall, 'tis said. Then, in sooth, by the rule of contraries, a fall should presage humility's reward. What says my Lord Baron?"

  She turned to Burleigh, who smiled and, bowing, replied:

  "So witty a flight to so sound a conclusion Cecil could not have winged alone, but where majesty teacheth wisdom, who shall refuse it!"

  "'Tis well!" said Elizabeth, more soberly. "Rise, Sir Knight, and, when that we have supped, seek audience again. An the petition be in reason, 'twill not suffer for the fall you have had."

  With this speech, Sir Percevall's first audience ended, and it was with a happy face that he suffered himself to be helped to his feet by the four gentlemen who had first been sent to his aid.

  As the Queen resumed her progress and entered the apartments wherein she was to prepare for her evening meal, there resounded through the palace the ringing notes of trumpets and the musical booming of a kettle-drum.

  In a large antechamber immediately outside of the room where the Queen was to sup there was placed a splendidly carved table of black oak, and here were made all the preparations for her repast, accompanied by the usual ceremonies.

  Moving to the sound of trumpets and drum, two gentlemen entered the room, the first bearing a rod and the second a table-cloth. Advancing one behind the other, they kneeled three times between the door and table, apparently expressing the deepest veneration. Having spread the table, they retired backward, not forgetting to repeat the genuflections as performed on their approach.

  These first two were followed immediately by two other gentlemen, the first with a rod and the other carrying a salt-seller, plates, and bread. These articles were carried to the table with the same ceremony as had attended the spreading of the cloth.

  Next there entered a young lady, whose coronet indicated the rank of countess and whose uncovered bosom proclaimed the unmarried state. She was accompanied by a married lady of lower rank, carrying a knife. The Countess rubbed the plates with bread and salt, and then the two ladies stood awhile by the table, awaiting the arrival of the supper.

  Finally there entered, one at a time, twenty-four yeomen of the guard, the tallest and handsomest men in the royal service, bareheaded and clothed in scarlet coats, with roses embroidered in gold thread on their backs. Each yeoman carried a separate special dish intended for the royal repast, and, as each approached the table, the lady with the knife cut off and placed in his mouth a portion of the food which he was carrying. After depositing their dishes upon the table, the yeomen departed and the maids of honor then approached and carried the dishes into the inner room, where the Queen sat at her supper.

  Of all those who thus advanced to the table and departed walking backward, none omitted the reverent kneelings, nor did anyone concerned in all this ceremony speak a word until it was concluded. Although the Queen was actually absent, in fiction she was present, and it was to this fiction that so much reverence was paid.

  Shortly after the commencement of these preparations, Droop and his guide appeared among other petitioners and other lookers-on around the doorways. Copernicus carried his phonographic apparatus, but the bicycle had been left in the court-yard in the care of a man-at-arms.

  "Jiminy!" said Droop, looking curiously about him, "ain't this A No. 1, though! Et must be fun to be a queen, eh, Percevall?"

  "To speak truly, my lad," said the knight, "there is something too much of bravery and pomp in the accidents of royalty. What! Can a king unbend--be merry--a good fellow with his equals? No! And would you or I barter this freedom for a crown?" He shook his head. "Which think you passed the merrier night--or the Queen (God's blessing on her) or you and I?"

  Droop paid little heed to his companion, for his eyes were busy with the unwonted scene before him.

  "Well, now!" he exclaimed. "Look there, Sir Knight. See how the old lady digs out a piece o' that pie and pokes it into that lord's mouth! He must be mighty hungry! I'm darned ef I'd thought they'd hev let him hev his grub before the Queen--and out of her own dish, too!"

  "Nay, Brother Droop," said the Englishman, "this custom hath its origin in the necessary precaution of our sovereign. Who knows but that poison be in this food! Have not a score of scurvy plots been laid against her life? 'Tis well to test what is meant for the use of majesty."

  Droop whistled low.

  "Thet's the wrinkle, eh?" he said. "I don't guess I'd be much tempted to take a job here as a taster, then! Hello!" he said. "Why, they're takin' the victuals out o' the room. What's that fer? Did they find p'ison in 'em?"

  Sir Percevall did not reply. His attention had been caught by the arrival of a strangely dressed woman, apparently attended by six maids of honor.

  Turning to a gentleman at his elbow:

  "Can you tell me, sir," he said, "who is yonder stranger in outlandish apparel?"

  Following the speaker's eyes, the gentleman stared for a few moments and then replied:

  "Marry, sir, it can but be the American princess with her retinue. They say that her Majesty much affects this strange new-comer."

  It was, indeed, Rebecca who, in response to an invitation brought by a page in the Queen's livery, was on the way to take supper with Elizabeth. On her arrival at the anteroom door, an attendant went in before the Queen to announce her presence; and, while awaiting admission, Rebecca gazed about her with a curiosity still unsatisfied.

  "There, now," she was saying, "'twas suttenly too bad to send you off on a wild-goose chase, Miss Margaret. Ef you could hev found the man, I'd hev ben glad, though."

  At that very moment, a voice close beside her made her start violently.

  "Well--well! I declare! Rebecca Wise, how do you do!"

  She turned and saw him of whom she was at that moment speaking, and lo! to her amazement, it was Copernicus Droop who held out his right hand.

  "Copernicus Droop!" she gasped. Then, remembering her adventure of the previous day, she went on coldly, without noticing the proffered hand: "Ye seem right glad to see me now, Mr. Droop."

  Droop was taken aback at her manner and at the sarcastic emphasis laid upon the word "now."

  "Why--why--of course," he stammered. "I thought you was lost."

  "Lost!" she cried, indignantly. "Lost! Why, you know right well I chased you up one street and down the other all the mornin' yesterday. You tried to lose me, Mr. Droop--and now you find me again, you see. Oh, yes, you must be glad to see me!"

  Droop was at first all astonishment at this accusation, but in a few moments he guessed the true state of the case. Without delay he explained the exchange of clothes, and had no difficulty in persuading Rebecca that it was Francis Bacon whom she had pursued by mistake.

  "Poor young man!" Rebecca exclaimed, in a low voice of contrition. "Why, he must hev took me fer a lunatic!"

  Then she suddenly recollected her young attendants, and turned so as to bring them on one hand and Droop on the other.

  "Young ladies," she said, primly, "this here's Mr. Copernicus Droop, from America."

  With one accord the six girls dropped their eyes and courtesied low.

  "Mr. Droop," Rebecca continued, as she indicated one of the girls after the other with her forefinger, "make you acquainted with Miss Clarissa, Miss Margaret, Miss Maria, Miss Gertrude, Miss Evelina, and Miss Dorothy. They've got sech tangled-up last names, I declare I can't keep 'em in my head. Mr. Droop's the same rank I am," she concluded, addressing the girls.

  Droop fidgeted and bowed six awkward bows with eyes riveted to the ground. He had never been a ladies' man, and this unexpected presentation was a doubly trying ordeal.

  There was a murmur of "your Highness" from the courtesying young women which convinced the abashed Yankee that he was being mocked, and this impression was deepened by the ill-suppressed giggles occas
ioned by the sight of his sadly rumpled hose. His confusion was complete.

  "Now, tell me," said Rebecca, curiously, "whatever brought you up here? Hev ye some errand with the Queen?"

  "Yes," said Droop. "My friend and me came up here to get a patent. Say," he exclaimed, brightening up with startling suddenness, "praps you know the racket--got the inside track, eh?"

  "Inside track!"

  "Yes. Don't you know the Patent Examiner--or Commissioner, or Lord High Thingummy that runs the Patent Office here? I hate to bother the Queen about sech things! Goodness knows, I'd never ha' thought o' troublin' President McKinley about patents!"

  Rebecca shook her head.

  "I'm blest ef I know the fust thing about it," she declared. "Ef you take my advice, you'll not bother Miss Elizabeth 'bout your old patents."

  At this moment the page returned.

  "Her Majesty awaits your Royal Highness within," he said, bowing deeply.

  Droop's jaws fell apart and his eyes opened wide.

  "Royal Highness!" he murmured.

  "Well, I've got to go now," said Rebecca, smiling at her friend's astonishment. "But don't you go 'way fer a while yet. I'll try an' get the Queen to let you in soon. I want to talk with you 'bout lots of things."

  In a moment she was gone, leaving Copernicus rooted to the floor and dumb with amazement.

  Someone touched his elbow and, turning, he saw Sir Percevall, with the light of triumph on his fat face.

  "Fortune's smiles have turned to mere laughter, my lad," he said, chuckling. "This American princess hath the Queen's good-will. How the fiend's name came you acquainted?"

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE FATE OF SIR PERCEVALL'S SUIT

  In the inner chamber, Elizabeth was seated at a small table, at the opposite end of which sat Rebecca. Burleigh, Nottingham, and two or three other great lords stood near at hand, while one dish after another was brought in from the outer room by maids of honor.

  Standing to the right of the Queen's chair was a dark man of foreign aspect, wearing the robes of a Doctor of Laws. In his hand was Rebecca's copy of the New York World, which he was perusing with an expression of the utmost perplexity.

  "Well, Master Guido," said the Queen, "what make you of it?"

  "Maestà eccellentissima--" the scholar began.

  "Nay--nay. Speak good plain English, man," said the Queen. "The Lady Rebecca hath no Italian."

  Messer Guido bowed and began again, speaking with a scarcely perceptible accent.

  "Most Excellent Majesty, I have but begun perusal of this document. It promiseth matter for ten good years' research in the comparison of parts, interpretation of phrases, identifying customs, manners, dress, and the like."

  "Nay, then," said the Queen, "with the help of the Lady Rebecca, 'twill be no weighty task, methinks. My lady, why partake you not of the pasty?" she said, turning to Rebecca. "Hath it not a very proper savor?"

  "My, yes," Rebecca replied; "it's mighty good pie! Somehow, though, pie don't lay very good with me these days. Ye don't happen to have any tea, do ye?"

  "Tea!"

  "If I may venture--" said Guido, eagerly.

  "Speak, Messer Guido."

  "Why, it would appear, your Majesty, that tea is a sort of stuff for dresses--silk, belike."

  "Stuff for dresses!" said Rebecca. "Stuff and nonsense! Why, tea's a drink!"

  "A beverage! Then how explain you this?" the Italian cried, triumphantly. Lifting the newspaper, he read from it the following passage: "The illustration shows a charming tea-gown, a creation of Mme. Décolleté."

  "You see, Maestà--your Majesty--it is clear. A 'tea-gown' is shown in the drawing--a gown made of tea."

  Rebecca had opened her mouth to overwhelm the poor savant with the truth when a page entered and stood before the Queen.

  "Well, sirrah," said Elizabeth, "what is your message?"

  "Sir Percevall Hart craves an audience, your Majesty, for himself and his American friend and client."

  "Another American!" exclaimed the Queen.

  "Copernicus Droop!" cried Rebecca.

  "Know you Sir Percevall's friend, Lady Rebecca?" asked Elizabeth.

  "Why, yes, your Majesty. He and I came over together from Peltonville. I believe he's after a patent."

  "A patent? What mean you? Doth he ask for a patent of nobility--a title? Can this be the suit of the fat knight?"

  "I don't know," said Rebecca. "'Tain't nothin' 'bout nobility, I'm sure, though. It's a patent on a phonograph, I b'lieve."

  "Know you aught of this, my lord?" said Elizabeth, turning to Burleigh.

  "Why, yes, your Majesty. I have to-day received from Sir Percevall Hart a letter written by my nephew, Francis Bacon----"

  "Bacon! What! Ay--methinks we know somewhat of this same Francis," said the Queen, grimly. "A member of Parliament, is he not?"

  "Even so, your Majesty," said Burleigh, somewhat crestfallen. "From this letter I learn," he continued, while Elizabeth shook her head, "that this American--a Master Dupe, I believe----"

  "No--no--Droop!" cried Rebecca. "Copernicus Droop."

  The baron bowed.

  "That this Master Droop desires the grant of a monopoly in----"

  "A monopoly!" cried Elizabeth. "What! This independent young barrister--this parliamentary meddler in opposition, forsooth! He craveth a monopoly? God's death! A monopoly in all the impudence in this our realm is of a surety this fellow's right! We grant it--we grant it. Let the papers be drawn forthwith!"

  The baron bent before the storm and, bowing, remained silent. Rebecca, however, could scarce see the justice of the Queen's position.

  "Well, but look here, your Majesty," she said. "'Tain't Mr. Bacon as wants this patent; it's Mr. Droop. Mr. Bacon only gave him a letter to Mr. Burleigh here."

  Astonishment was depicted in every face save in that of the Queen, whose little eyes were now turned upon her sister sovereign in anger.

  "Harkye, Lady Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Is it the custom to take the Queen to task in your realm?"

  Rebecca's reply came pat. The type was prepared beforehand, and she answered now with a clear conscience.

  "Why, of course. We talk jest as we feel like to all the queens there is in my country."

  The equivocation in this reply must have struck the Queen, for she said, without taking her eyes from Rebecca's face:

  "And, prithee, Lady Rebecca, how many queens be there in America? We begin to doubt if royalty be known there."

  Again Messer Guido evinced signs of an anxious desire to speak, and Rebecca shrewdly took advantage of this at once.

  "Messer Guido can tell you all 'bout that, I guess," she said.

  Elizabeth turned her eyes to the savant.

  "What knowledge have you of this, learned doctor?" she asked, coldly.

  "Why, your Majesty," said Guido, with delighted zeal, "the case is plain. Will your Majesty but look at this drawing on one of the inner pages of the printed document brought by the Lady Rebecca? Behold the effigy of a powder canister, with the words 'Royal Baking Powder' thereon. This would appear evidence that in America gunpowder is known and is used by the sovereigns of the various tribes. Here again we see 'The Royal Corset,' and there 'Crown Shirts.' Can it be doubted that the Americans have royal governors?"

  The Queen's face cleared a little at this, and Guido proceeded with increased animation:

  "Behold further upon the front page, your Majesty, the effigy of a man wearing a round crown with a peak or projecting shelf over the eyes. Under this we read the legend 'The Czar of the Tenderloin.' Now, your Majesty will remember that the ruler of Muscovy is termed the Czar. The Tenderloin signifieth, doubtless, some order, akin, perchance, to the Garter."

  "This hath a plausible bent, Messer Guido," said Elizabeth, with more good-nature. "Lady Rebecca, can you better explain this matter of the Czar?"

  "No, indeed," Rebecca replied, with perfect truth. "Mister Guido must have a fine mind to understand things like that!"


  "In sooth, good Messer Guido," said Elizabeth, with a smile, "your research and power of logic do you great credit. We doubt not to learn more of these new empires from your learned pains than ever from Raleigh, Drake, and the other travellers whose dull wits go but to the surface of things. But, Lord warrant us!" she continued, "here standeth our page, having as yet no answer. Go, sirrah, and bid Sir Percevall and this great American to our presence straight."

  Then, turning again to Guido, she said:

  "Messer Guido, we enjoin it upon your learning that you do make a note of the petition of this American, as well as of those things which he may answer in explanation of his design."

  With a bow, Guido stepped to one side and, carefully folding the newspaper, drew from his bosom his tablets and prepared to obey.

  All eyes turned curiously to the door as it opened to admit the two suitors, who were followed by the page. Sir Percevall, with plumed hat in one hand and sword hilt in the other, advanced ponderously, bowing low at every other step. Droop hurriedly deposited his two boxes upon the floor and followed his monitor, closely imitating his every step and gesture. Having no sword, he thought it best to put his left hand into his bosom, an attitude which he recollected in a picture of Daniel Webster.

  The fat knight was about to kneel to kiss the royal hand, but Elizabeth, smiling, detained him.

  "Nay, nay!" she said. "You, Sir Percevall, have paid your debt of homage in advance for a twelvemonth. He who kisses the dust at our feet hath knelt for ten." Then, turning to Droop, who was down on both knees, with his hand still in his breast: "What now!" she exclaimed. "Hath your hand suffered some mischance, Sir American, that you hide it in your bosom?"

  "Not a mite--not a mite!" Droop stuttered, quickly extending the member in question. "Nay, your Majesty--in sooth, no--my hand beeth all right!"

  "We learn from the Lord Treasurer," said Elizabeth, addressing Sir Percevall, "that your petition hath reference to a monopoly. Know you not, Sir Knight, that these be parlous days for making of new monopolies? Our subjects murmur, and 'tis said that we have already been too generous with these great gifts. Have you considered of this?"

  "My liege," said Sir Percevall, "these things have we considered. Nor would we tempt this awful Presence with petitions looking to tax further the public patience. But, please your Majesty, Master Droop, my client here," indicating the still kneeling man with a sweeping gesture, "hath brought into being an instrument, or rather two instruments, of marvellous fashion and of powers strange. Of these your Majesty's subjects have had hitherto no knowledge, and it is in the making and selling of these within this realm that we do here crave a right of monopoly under the Great Seal."