imly 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
noble 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 massive 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
he