ntleman-at-arms
fell back from the doorway, had but just caught a glimpse of her
Majesty--"Long live Elizabeth!"

It seemed to Lempriere that the Gentlemen Pensioners must beat him down
as they passed, yet he stood riveted to the spot; and indeed it was true
that he was almost in the path of her Majesty. He was aware that two
gentlemen touched him on the shoulder and bade him retire; but the Queen
motioned to them to desist. So, with the eyes of the whole court on
him again, and Elizabeth's calm curious gaze fixed, as it were, on his
forehead, he stood still till the flaming Gentlemen Pensioners were
within a few feet of him, and the battle-axes were almost over his head.

The great braggart was no better now than a wisp of grass in the wind,
and it was more than homage that bent him to his knees as the Queen
looked him full in the eyes. There was a moment's absolute silence, and
then she said, with cold condescension:

"By what privilege do you seek our presence?"

"I am Raoul Lempriere, Seigneur of Rozel, your high Majesty," said the
choking voice of the Jerseyman. The Queen raised her eyebrows. "The man
seems French. You come from France?"

Lempriere flushed to his hair--the Queen did not know him, then! "From
Jersey Isle, your sacred Majesty."

"Jersey Isle is dear to us. And what is your warrant here?"

"I am butler to your Majesty, by your gracious Majesty's patent, and
I alone may have dove-cotes in the isle; and I only may have the
perquage-on your Majesty's patent. It is not even held by De Carteret of
St. Ouen's."

The Queen smiled as she had not smiled since she entered the
presence-chamber. "God preserve us," she said--"that I should not have
recognised you! It is, of course, our faithful Lempriere of Rozel."

The blood came back to the Seigneur's heart, but he did not dare look up
yet, and he did not see that Elizabeth was in rare mirth at his words;
and though she had no ken or memory of him, she read his nature and was
mindful to humour him. Beckoning Leicester to her side, she said a few
words in an undertone, to which he replied with a smile more sour than
sweet.

"Rise, Monsieur of Rozel," she said.

The Seigneur stood up, and met her gaze faintly. "And so, proud
Seigneur, you must needs flout e'en our Lord Chamberlain, in the name of
our butler with three dove-cotes and the perquage. In sooth thy office
must not be set at naught lightly--not when it is flanked by the
perquage. By my fath