beth, "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:

"A