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diff --git a/27682-h/27682-h.htm b/27682-h/27682-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..da42318 --- /dev/null +++ b/27682-h/27682-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13692 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Panchronicon, by Harold Steele Mackaye. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 15%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 3em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + color: #BDBDBD; +} + +hr.hr2 { + width: 10%; + margin-top: 2.5em; + margin-bottom: 2.5em; + clear: both; + color: #BDBDBD; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 95%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + color: #C0C0C0; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-align: center;} + +.caption {font-variant: small-caps; text-align: center; margin-top: 1px;} + +.image {text-align: center;} + +h2.chapter {font-size: 135%; padding-bottom: 0.75em;} + +h3.chapter2 {font-size: 130%; font-variant: small-caps; padding-bottom: 1em;} + +.sc {font-variant: small-caps;} + +table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + +.minispace {margin-bottom: 1em;} + +.microspace {margin-bottom: .5em;} + +.nanospace {padding-bottom: .25em;} + +.border2 { + border-style: solid; + border-width: 2px; + padding: 1.5em; + background: #FFFFFF; + border-color: #000000; + margin-left: 27%; + margin-right: 27%; + text-align: center; +} + +.blockquote {margin-left: 5em; font-size: 95%; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em;} +// --> +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Panchronicon, by Harold Steele Mackaye + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Panchronicon + +Author: Harold Steele Mackaye + +Release Date: January 1, 2009 [EBook #27682] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PANCHRONICON *** + + + + +Produced by David Clarke, Meredith Bach and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<h1>THE PANCHRONICON</h1> +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<div class="image"><img src="images/icover.jpg" width="277" height="420" alt="Front cover" title="" /></div> + +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<div class="microspace"> </div> +<h1>THE<br /> +PANCHRONICON</h1> +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>HAROLD STEELE MACKAYE</h2> +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<h3>NEW YORK<br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br /> +1904</h3> + + +<hr /> +<h4><span class="smcap">Copyright, 1904, by</span><br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h4> +<hr style="width: 5%; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;" /> +<h4>Published, April, 1904</h4> +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<div class="image"><img src="images/icopy.png" width="131" height="150" alt="" title="" /></div> +<hr /> + + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<div class="minispace"> </div> + +<div class="center"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='center' class="sc" style="font-size: 90%;">CHAPTER</td><td> </td><td align='right' class="sc" style="font-size: 90%;">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">I.</td><td align='left' class="sc">The Theory of Copernicus Droop</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">II.</td><td align='left' class="sc">A Visit to the Panchronicon</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_II">23</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">III.</td><td align='left' class="sc">A Nocturnal Evasion</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_III">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">IV.</td><td align='left' class="sc">A Change of Plan</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">58</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">V.</td><td align='left' class="sc">Droop's Theory in Practice</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_V">86</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">VI.</td><td align='left' class="sc">Shipwrecked on the Sands of Time</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">103</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">VII.</td><td align='left' class="sc">New Ties and Old Relations</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">123</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">VIII.</td><td align='left' class="sc">How Francis Bacon Cheated the Bailiffs</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">157</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">IX.</td><td align='left' class="sc">Phœbe at the Peacock Inn</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">179</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">X.</td><td align='left' class="sc">How the Queen Read Her Newspaper</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_X">208</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">XI.</td><td align='left' class="sc">The Fat Knight at the Boar's Head</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">242</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">XII.</td><td align='left' class="sc">How Shakespeare Wrote His Plays</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">XIII.</td><td align='left' class="sc">How the Fat Knight did Homage</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">277</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">XIV.</td><td align='left' class="sc">The Fate of Sir Percevall's Suit</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">297</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">XV.</td><td align='left' class="sc">How Rebecca Returned to Newington</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">317</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">XVI.</td><td align='left' class="sc">How Sir Guy Kept His Tryst</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">324</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='right' class="sc">XVII.</td><td align='left' class="sc">Rebecca's Trump Card</td><td align='right'><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">340</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<div class="microspace"> </div> +<hr /> +<h2>THE PANCHRONICON</h2> +<div class="microspace"> </div> + +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">THE THEORY OF COPERNICUS DROOP</h3> + +<p>The two sisters were together in their garden.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rebecca Wise, turned forty and growing slightly +gray at the temples, was moving slowly from one of +her precious plants to the next, leaning over each to +pinch off a dead leaf or count the buds. It was the +historic month of May, 1898, and May is the paradise +of flower lovers.</p> + +<p>Phœbe was eighteen years younger than her sister, +and the beauty of the village. Indeed, many declared +their belief that the whole State of New Hampshire +did not contain her equal.</p> + +<p>She was seated on the steps of the veranda that +skirted the little white cottage, and the absent gaze +of her frank blue eyes was directed through the gate +at the foot of the little path bordered by white rose-bushes. +In her lap was a bundle of papers yellowed +by age and an ivory miniature, evidently taken from +the carved wooden box at her side.</p> + +<p>Presently Rebecca straightened her back with a +slight grimace and looked toward her sister, holding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +her mold-covered hands and fingers spread away from +her.</p> + +<p>"Well," she inquired, "hev ye found anythin'?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe brought her gaze back from infinity and +replied:</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't. Only that one letter where Isaac +Burton writes her that the players have come to +town."</p> + +<p>"I don't see what good them letters'll do ye in the +Shakespeare class, then."</p> + +<p>Rebecca spoke listlessly—more interested in her +garden than in her sister's search.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," Phœbe rejoined, dreamily. "It's +awful funny—but whenever I take out these old +letters there comes over me the feelin' that I'm 'way +off in a strange country—and I feel like somebody +else."</p> + +<p>Rebecca looked up anxiously from her work.</p> + +<p>"Them sort o' philanderin' notions are foolish, +Phœbe," she said, and flicked a caterpillar over the +fence.</p> + +<p>Phœbe gave herself a little shake and began to tie +up the papers.</p> + +<p>"That's so," she replied. "But they will come +when I get these out, an' I got 'em out thinkin' the' +might be somethin' about Shakespeare in 'em for our +class."</p> + +<p>She paused and looked wistfully at the letters +again.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" she cried, "how I do wonder if he was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +among those players at the Peacock Inn that day! +You know 'players' is what they called play-actors +in those days, and he was a play-actor, they say."</p> + +<p>"Did he live very far back, then?" said Rebecca, +wishing to appear interested, but really intent upon +a new sprout at the foot of the lilac-bush.</p> + +<p>"Yes, three hundred years ago. Three of these +letters has a date in 1598 exactly."</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, and at length Rebecca +looked up from the ground to ascertain its cause. +She frowned and drew her aching back stiffly straight +again.</p> + +<p>"Everlastin'ly lookin' at that pictur'!" she exclaimed. +"I declare to goodness, Phœbe Wise, folks'll +think you're vain as a pouter pigeon."</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed merrily, tossed the letters into the +box and leaped to her feet. The miniature at which +she had been gazing was still in her hands.</p> + +<p>"Folks'll never see me lookin' at it, Rebecca—only +you," she said.</p> + +<p>Then with a coaxing tone and looking with appealing +archness at her sister, she went on:</p> + +<p>"Is it really like me, Rebecca? Honest true?"</p> + +<p>The elder woman merely grunted and moved on +to the next bed, and Phœbe, with another laugh, ran +lightly into the house.</p> + +<p>A few moments later she reappeared at the front +door with consternation on her face.</p> + +<p>"Land o' goodness, Rebecca!" she cried, "do you +know what time it is? Near onto one o'clock, an'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +I've got to be at the Shakespeare class at half past. +We'll have to dish up dinner right this minute, and +I don't see how I can change my dress after it an' +help with the dishes too."</p> + +<p>She whisked into the house again, and Rebecca followed +her as rapidly as possible.</p> + +<p>She was very proud of her baby sister, proud of +her having been "clear through high school," and +proud of her eminence in the local literary society. +There was certainly something inspiring in having +a sister who was first corresponding secretary of the +Women's Peltonville Association for the Study of +Shakespearian History and Literature; and it was +simply wonderful how much poetry she could repeat +from the pages of her favorite author.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Peltonville Center, New Hampshire, was one of +those groups of neatly kept houses surrounding a +prettily shaded, triangular common which seem to be +characteristic of New England. Standing two miles +from the nearest railway station, this little settlement +possessed its own combined store and post-office, from +whose narrow veranda one might watch the rising +generation playing Saturday base-ball on the grassy +triangle.</p> + +<p>The traditional old meeting-house stood on the opposite +side of the common, facing the store. The +good old days of brimstone theology were past, and +the descendants of the godly Puritans who raised this +steeple "in the fear of the Lord," being now deprived<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> +of their chief source of fear, found Sunday meetings +a bore, and a village pastor an unnecessary +luxury.</p> + +<p>Indeed, there seemed little need of pastoral admonition +in such a town as Peltonville Center. There was +a grimly commonplace and universal goodness everywhere, +and the village was only saved from unconsciousness +of its own perfection by the individual +shortcomings of one of its citizens. Fortunately for +the general self-complacence, however, the necessary +revealing contrast was found in him.</p> + +<p>Copernicus Droop was overfond of the bottle, and +in spite of the prohibition laws of his State, he proved +himself a blessed example and warning by a too frequent +and unmistakable intoxication in public. He +was gentle and even apologetic in his cups, but he was +clearly a "slave of rum" and his mission was therefore +fulfilled.</p> + +<p>On this first of May, 1898, a number of idle young +men sat in a row on the edge of the store veranda. +Some were whittling, some making aimless marks in +the dust with a stick. All leaned limply forward, +with their elbows on their knees.</p> + +<p>It was clearly not a Sunday, for the meeting-house +was open, and from time to time, one or perhaps two +young women together passed into the cool and silent +room. The loungers at the store let none escape their +notice, and the name of each damsel was passed down +the line in an undertone as its owner entered the +church.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> + +<p>A lantern-jawed young farmer at the end of the +row slowly brushed the shavings from his clothes and +remarked:</p> + +<p>"Thet's the secon' meetin' of the Shekspeare class +this month, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Yep, an' there'll be two more afore the summer +boarders comes up——"</p> + +<p>The second speaker would have continued, but he +was here interrupted by a third, who whispered +loudly:</p> + +<p>"Say, fellers, there goes Copernicus."</p> + +<p>All eyes were raised and unanimously followed the +shabby figure which had just emerged from behind +the church and now started into the road leading +away from the common toward the north.</p> + +<p>"Walks pretty straight fer him, don't he?" snickered +the first speaker.</p> + +<p>"He's not ben tight fer two days."</p> + +<p>"Bet ye a jack-knife he'll be spreein' it fer all he's +wuth to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Fortunately these comments did not reach the ears +of their object, who, all unconscious of the interest +which he inspired, made good his way at a fairly +rapid pace.</p> + +<p>Presently he stopped.</p> + +<p>With muslin skirts swaying, hair rumpled, and fair +young face flushed with exertion, Phœbe Wise was +hurrying toward the common. She was almost running +in her haste, for she was late and the Shakespeare +class was a momentous institution.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, say, Cousin Phœbe," was the man's greeting, +"can you tell me ef yer sister's to home?"</p> + +<p>The young girl came to a sudden full stop in her +surprise. This cousinly greeting from the village +reprobate was as exciting and as inexplicable as it was +unheard of.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Droop!" she exclaimed, "I—I—I +s'pose so."</p> + +<p>The truth was the truth, after all. But it was +hard on Rebecca. What <i>could</i> this man want with +her sister?</p> + +<p>Droop nodded and passed on.</p> + +<p>"Thank ye. Don't stop fer me," he said.</p> + +<p>Phœbe moved forward slowly, watching Copernicus +over her shoulder. She noted his steady steps and +pale face and, reassured, resumed her flying progress +with redoubled vigor. After all, Rebecca was forty-two +years old and well able to take care of herself.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Rebecca Wise, having carefully wrung +out her dishcloth, poured out the water and swept the +little sink, was slowly untying her kitchen apron, full +of a thankful sense of the quiet hour before her +wherein to knit and muse beside the front window of +her little parlor.</p> + +<p>In the centre of this room there stood a wide, round +table, bearing a large kerosene-lamp and the week's +mending. At the back and opposite the two windows +stood the well-blacked, shiny, air-tight stove. +Above this was a wooden mantel, painted to imitate +marble, whereon were deposited two photographs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +four curious Chinese shells, and a plaster cross to +which there clung a very plaster young woman in +scant attire, the whole being marked "Rock of Ages" +in gilt letters at the base.</p> + +<p>Horse-hair furniture in all the glory of endless +"tidies" was arranged against walls bedight with +a rainbow-like wilderness of morning-glories. The +ceiling was of white plaster, and the floor was painted +white and decked here and there with knitted rag-carpets, +on whose Joseph's-coated surfaces Rebecca +loved to gaze when in retrospective mood. In those +humble floor-coverings her knowing eyes recognized +her first clocked stockings and Phœbe's baby cloak. +There was her brother Robert's wool tippet embalmed +in loving loops with the remnants of his wife's +best Sunday-go-to-meetin' ribbons. These two had +long been dead, but their sister's loving eyes recreated +them in rag-carpet dreams wherein she lived +again those by-gone days.</p> + +<p>Rebecca had just seated herself and was unrolling +her work, when her eyes caught a glimpse of a man's +form through the window. He had passed into her +gate and was approaching the door. She leaned forward +for a good look and then dropped back into her +chair with a gasp of surprise.</p> + +<p>"Copernicus Droop!" she exclaimed, "did you ever!"</p> + +<p>She sat in rigid astonishment until she heard his +timid knock, followed by the sound of shoes vigorously +wiped upon the door-mat.</p> + +<p>"Well, come! Thet's a comfort!" she thought.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +"He won't muss the carpet"—and she rose to admit +her visitor.</p> + +<p>"Good mornin'," said Droop, timidly. "I seen +Cousin Phœbe a-runnin' down the road, an' I sorter +thought I'd run in an' see how you was."</p> + +<p>"Come right in," said Rebecca, in non-committal +tones. She shut the door and followed him into the +parlor.</p> + +<p>"Here, give me yer hat," she continued. "Set +right there. How be ye?"</p> + +<p>Droop obeyed. In a few moments the two were +seated facing each other, and Rebecca's needles were +already busy. There was an interval of awkward +silence.</p> + +<p>"Well, what did ye come fer?"</p> + +<p>It was Rebecca who broke the spell. In her usual +downright fashion, she came to the point at once. +She thought it as well he should know that she was +not deceived by his polite pretence of casual friendly +interest.</p> + +<p>Droop settled forward with elbows on his knees and +brought his finger-tips carefully and accurately together. +He found this action amazingly promotive +of verbal accuracy.</p> + +<p>"Well, Cousin Rebecca," he began, slowly, "I'm +lookin' fer a partner." He paused, considering how +to proceed.</p> + +<p>The spinster let her hands drop in speechless wonder. +The audacity of the man! He—to her—a proposal! +At her age! From him!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fortunately the next few words disclosed her +error, and she blushed for it as she lifted her work +again, turning nearer the window as if for better +light.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Droop proceeded, "I've a little business +plan, an' it needs capital an' a partner."</p> + +<p>He waited, but there was no response.</p> + +<p>"Capital an' a partner," he repeated, "an' intelligence +an' ambition. So I come to you."</p> + +<p>Rebecca turned toward him again, scarcely less +surprised now than before.</p> + +<p>"To me! D'ye mean to say ye've me in yer mind +fer a partner—with capital?"</p> + +<p>Droop nodded slowly and compressed his lips.</p> + +<p>"Well, I want to know!" she exclaimed, helplessly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I know you ain't overly rich right now," +said Droop, apologetically; "but it warn't no secret +thet ye might hev hed Joe Chandler ef ye hadn't ben +so shifty in yer mind an' fell betwixt two stools—an' +Lord knows Joe Chandler was as rich as—as Peter +Craigin down to Keene—pretty nigh."</p> + +<p>Again Rebecca blushed, but this time in anger.</p> + +<p>"See here, Copernicus Droop—" she began.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mean nothin' mean, now," he insisted, +earnestly. "I'm jest leadin' up to the pint sorter +natural like—breakin' the thing easy, ye know."</p> + +<p>"What <i>air</i> you a-drivin' at?"</p> + +<p>Droop shifted uneasily in his seat and ran his finger +around inside of his collar before he replied:</p> + +<p>"Ye see, it's sorter hard to explain. It's this way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +I hev a mighty fine plan in my mind founded on a +mixin' up of astronomical considerations with prior +inventions——"</p> + +<p>"Mister Droop!" exclaimed his hostess, gazing severely +into his eyes, "ef you think I'll let you go to +drinkin' rum till——"</p> + +<p>"Honest to goodness, Miss Wise, I've not teched a +drop!" cried Droop, leaping to his feet and leaning +forward quickly. "You may smell my breath ef——"</p> + +<p>A violent push sent him back to his chair.</p> + +<p>"Thet'll do, Mr. Droop. I'll undertake to believe +ye fer once, but I'll thank ye to speak plain English."</p> + +<p>"I'll do my best," he sighed, plaintively. "I don't +blame ye fer not takin' to it quick. I didn't myself +at first. Well—here. Ye see—ye know——"</p> + +<p>He paused and swallowed hard, gazing at the ceiling +for inspiration. Then he burst out suddenly:</p> + +<p>"Ye know the graphophone an' the kodak and the +biograph an' all them things what ye can see down +to Keene?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca nodded slowly, with suspicion still in her +eye.</p> + +<p>"Well, the's a heap o' things ben invented since +the Centennial of 1876. Don't you s'pose they've +made hills o' money out o' them things—with patents +an' all?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>"An' don't you s'pose that ef anybody in 1876 was +to up an' bring out sech inventions all at once he'd +be bigger than all the other inventors put together!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rebecca slowly pushed her needle through her +hair, which was a sign of thoughtfulness.</p> + +<p>"Wal, o' course," she said, at length, "ef anybody +hed aben smart enough to've invented all them things +in 1876 he'd aben a pretty big man, I guess."</p> + +<p>Droop edged forward eagerly.</p> + +<p>"An' s'posen' that you hed married Joe Chandler +back in 1876, an' you was rich enough to back up +an inventor like that, an' he come to you an' offered +to give you half ef you'd up an' help him put 'em on +the market, an' s'posen'——"</p> + +<p>"What the land sake's the use o' s'posin'?" Rebecca +cried, sharply. "This is 1898, an' I ain't married, +thanks be to goodness!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, but ye could be, ef we was in 1876! There, +there—I know what you want to say—but 'taint so! +What would ye say ef I was to tell ye that all ye've +got to do is jest to get into a machine I've got an' I +can take ye back to 1876 in next to no time! What +would ye say——"</p> + +<p>"I'd say ye was tighter'n a boiled owl, Copernicus +Droop."</p> + +<p>"But I ain't, I ain't!" he almost screamed. "I tell +ye I hevn't teched liquor fer two days. I've reformed. +Ef ye won't smell my breath——"</p> + +<p>"Then you're plum crazy," she interrupted.</p> + +<p>"No, nor crazy either," he insisted. "Why, the +whole principle of it is so awful simple! Ef you'd +ben to high school, now, an' knew astronomy an' all, +you'd see right through it like nothin'."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, then, you c'n explain it to them as hez ben +to high school, an' that's sister Phœbe. Here she +comes now."</p> + +<p>She went at once to the door to admit the new-comer. +Her visitor, watching the pretty younger +sister as she stepped in, rosy and full of life, could not +but remark the contrast between the two women.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-two years makes a heap o' difference!" +he muttered. "But Rebecca was jest as pretty herself, +back in 1876."</p> + +<p>"Look, Rebecca!" cried Phœbe, as she entered the +door, "here's a new book Mrs. Bolton lent me to-day. +All about Bacon writing Shakespeare's plays, an' how +Bacon was a son of Queen Elizabeth. Do you s'pose +he really did?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, don't ask me, child!" was the nervous reply. +"Mr. Droop's in the parlor."</p> + +<p>Phœbe had forgotten her short interview with +Droop, and she now snatched off her hat in surprise +and followed her elder sister, nodding to their visitor +as she entered.</p> + +<p>"Set down, both o' ye," said Rebecca. "Now, +then, Mr. Droop, perhaps you'll explain."</p> + +<p>Rebecca was far more mystified and interested +than she cared to admit. Her brusque manner was +therefore much exaggerated—a dissimulation which +troubled her conscience, which was decidedly of the +tenderest New England brand.</p> + +<p>Poor Copernicus experienced a sense of relief as +he turned his eyes to those of the younger sister. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +felt that Rebecca's manner was distinctly cold, and +her own expression was the more cordial in compensation.</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Phœbe," he said, eagerly, "I've ben +tellin' your sister about my plan to go back to the +Centennial year—1876, ye know."</p> + +<p>"To—to what, Mr. Droop?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe's polite cordiality gave place to amazed consternation. +Droop raised a deprecating hand.</p> + +<p>"Now don't you go to think I'm tight or gone +crazy. You'll understand it, fer you've ben to high +school. Now see! What is it makes the days go +by—ain't it the daily revolution of the sun?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe put on what her sister always called "that +schoolmarm look" and replied:</p> + +<p>"Why, it's the turning round of the earth on its +axis once in——"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes—It's all one—all one," Droop broke +in, eagerly. "To put it another way, it comes from +the sun cuttin' meridians, don't it?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca, who found this technical and figurative +expression beyond her, paused in her knitting and +looked anxiously at Phœbe, to see how she would take +it. After a moment of thought, the young woman +admitted her visitor's premises.</p> + +<p>"Very good! An' you know's well's I do, Miss +Phœbe, that ef a man travels round the world the +same way's the sun, he ketches up on time a whole +day when he gets all the way round. In other words, +the folks that stays at home lives jest one day more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span> +than the feller that goes round the world that way. +Am I right?"</p> + +<p>"Of course."</p> + +<p>Droop glanced triumphantly at Rebecca. This tremendous +admission on her learned young sister's part +stripped her of all pretended coldness. Her deep +interest was evident now in her whole pose and expression.</p> + +<p>"Now, then, jest follow me close," Droop continued, +sitting far forward in his chair and pointing his +speech with a thin forefinger on his open palm.</p> + +<p>"Ef a feller was to whirl clear round the world an' +cut all the meridians in the same direction as the sun, +an' he made the whole trip around jest as quick as +the sun did—time wouldn't change a mite fer him, +would it?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe gasped at the suggestion.</p> + +<p>"Why, I should think—of course——"</p> + +<p>She stopped and put her hand to her head in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Et's a sure thing!" Droop exclaimed, earnestly. +"You've said yerself that the folks who stayed to +home would live one day longer than the fellow that +went round. Now, ef that feller travelled round as +fast as the sun, the stay-at-homes would only be one +day older by the time he got back—ain't that a fact?"</p> + +<p>Both sisters nodded.</p> + +<p>"Well, an' the traveller would be one day younger +than they'd be. An' ain't that jest no older at all +than when he started?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My goodness! Mr. Droop!" Phœbe replied, +feebly. "I never thought of that."</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't it so?"</p> + +<p>"Of course—leastways—why, it must be!"</p> + +<p>"All right, then!"</p> + +<p>Droop rose triumphantly to his feet, overcome by +his feelings.</p> + +<p>"Follow out that same reasonin' to the bitter end!" +he cried, "an' what will happen ef that traveller +whirls round, cuttin' meridians jest twice as fast as +the sun—goin' the same way?"</p> + +<p>He paused, but there was no reply.</p> + +<p>"Why, as sure as shootin', I tell ye, that feller will +get jest one day younger fer every two whirls round!"</p> + +<p>There was a long and momentous silence. The +tremendous suggestion had for the moment bereft +both women of all reasoning faculty.</p> + +<p>At length the younger sister ventured upon a practical +objection.</p> + +<p>"But how's he goin' to whirl round as fast as that, +Mr. Droop?" she said.</p> + +<p>Droop smiled indulgently.</p> + +<p>"Et does sound outlandish, when ye think how big +the world is. But what if ye go to the North Pole? +Ain't all the twenty-four meridians jammed up close +together round that part of the globe?"</p> + +<p>"Thet's so," murmured Rebecca, "I've seen it +many's the time on the map in Phœbe's geography +book."</p> + +<p>"Sure enough," Droop rejoined. "Then ain't it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +clear that ef a feller'll jest take a grip on the North +Pole an' go whirlin' round it, he'll be cuttin' meridians +as fast as a hay-chopper? Won't he see the +sun gettin' left behind an' whirlin' the other way +from what it does in nature? An' ef the sun goes the +other way round, ain't it sure to unwind all the time +thet it's ben a-rollin' up?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca's ball of yarn fell from her lap at this, +and, as she followed it with her eyes, she seemed to +see a practical demonstration of Droop's marvellous +theory.</p> + +<p>Phœbe felt all the tremendous force of Droop's +logic, and she flushed with excitement. One last +practical objection was obvious, however.</p> + +<p>"The thing must be all right, Mr. Droop," she +said; "an' come to think of it, this must be the reason +so many folks have tried to reach the North Pole. +But it never <i>has</i> been reached yet, an' how are you +agoin' to do it?"</p> + +<p>"You think it never hez," Copernicus replied. +"The fact is, though, that I've ben there."</p> + +<p>"You!" Phœbe cried.</p> + +<p>"And is there a pole there?" Rebecca asked, +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"The's a pole there, an' I've swung round it, too," +Droop replied, sitting again with a new and delightful +sense of no longer being unwelcome.</p> + +<p>"Here's how 'twas. About a year ago there come +to my back door a strange-lookin' man who'd hurt his +foot some way. I took him in an' fixed him up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>—you +know I studied for a doctor once—an' while he +was bein' fixed up, he sorter took a fancy to me an' +he begun to give me the story of his life. He said he +was born in the year 2582, an' had ben takin' what +he called a historical trip into the past ages. He went +on at a great rate like that, an' I thought he was jest +wanderin' in his mind with the fever, so I humored +him. But he saw through me, an' he wouldn't take +no but I should go down into Burnham's swamp with +him to see how he'd done it.</p> + +<p>"Well, down we went, and right spang in the +thickest of the bushes an' muck we come across the +queerest lookin' machine that ever ye see!</p> + +<p>"Right there an' then he told me all the scientific +talk about time an' astronomy thet I've told you, an' +then he tuck me into the thing. Fust thing I knew +he give a yank to a lever in the machinery an' there +was a big jerk thet near threw me on the back o' my +head. I looked out, an' there we was a-flyin' over the +country through the air fer the North Pole!"</p> + +<p>"There, now!" cried Rebecca, "didn't Si Wilkins' +boy Sam say he seen a comet in broad daylight last +June?"</p> + +<p>"Thet was us," Droop admitted.</p> + +<p>"And not a soul believed him," Phœbe remarked.</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Droop, "to make a long story +short, thet future-man whirled me a few times 'round +the North Pole—unwound jest five weeks o' time, +an' back we come to Peltonville a-hummin'!"</p> + +<p>"And then?" cried the two women together.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ef you'll believe me, there we was back to the +day he fust come—an' fust thing I knew, thet future-man +was a-comin' up to my back door, same ez before, +a-beggin' to hev his foot fixed. It was hard on him, +but I was convinced fer keeps."</p> + +<p>Copernicus shook his head sadly, with retrospective +sadness.</p> + +<p>"An' where is the future-man now?" Phœbe asked.</p> + +<p>"Tuk cold on his lungs at the North Pole," said +Droop, solemnly. "Hed pneumonia an' up'n died."</p> + +<p>"But there warn't nobody round heerd of him +except you," said Rebecca. "Who buried him?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, thet's one o' the beauties o' the hull business. +He'd showed me all the ropes on his machine—his +Panchronicon, as he called it—an' so I up'n +flew round the North Pole the opposite way as soon's +he passed away, till I'd made up the five weeks we'd +lost. Then when I got back it was five weeks after +his funeral, an' I didn't hev to bother about it."</p> + +<p>The two sisters looked at each other, quite overcome +with admiration.</p> + +<p>"My land!" Rebecca murmured, gathering up her +yarn and knitting again. "Sence they've invented +them X-rays an' took to picturin' folks' insides, I kin +believe anythin'."</p> + +<p>"You don't hev to take my word fer it," Droop +exclaimed. "Ef you'll come right along with me this +blessed minute, I'll show you the machine right +now."</p> + +<p>"I'd jest love to see it," said Rebecca, her coldness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +all forgotten, "but it's mos' too late fer this afternoon. +There's the supper to get, you know, an'——"</p> + +<p>"But the plan, Rebecca," Phœbe cried. "You've +forgotten that I haven't heard Mr. Droop's plan."</p> + +<p>"I wish 't you'd call me 'Cousin Copernicus,'" said +Droop, earnestly. "You know I've sworn off—quit +drinkin' now."</p> + +<p>Phœbe blushed at his novel proposal and insisted +on the previous question.</p> + +<p>"But what is the plan?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, my idea is this, Cousin Phœbe. I want we +should all go back to 1876 again. Thet's the year +your sister could hev married Joe Chandler ef she'd +wanted to."</p> + +<p>Rebecca murmured something unintelligible, blushing +furiously, with her eyes riveted to her knitting. +Phœbe looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"You know you could, Cousin Rebecca," Droop +insisted. "Now what I say is, let's go back there. +I'll invent the graphophone, the kodak, the vitascope, +an' Milliken's cough syrup an' a lot of other big modern +inventions. Rebecca'll marry Chandler, an' she +an' her husband can back up my big inventions with +capital. Why, Cousin Phœbe," he cried, with enthusiasm, +"we'll all hev a million apiece!"</p> + +<p>The sentimental side of Droop's plan first monopolized +Phœbe's attention.</p> + +<p>"Rebecca Wise!" she exclaimed, turning with +mock severity to face her sister. "Why is it I've +never heard tell about this love affair before now?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +Why, Joe Chandler's just a <i>fine</i> man. Is it you that +broke his heart an' made him an old bachelor all his +life?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca must have dropped a stitch, for she turned +toward the window again and brought her knitting +very close to her face.</p> + +<p>"What brought ye so early to home, Phœbe?" she +said. "Warn't there no Shakespeare meetin' to-day?"</p> + +<p>"No. Mis' Beecher was to lead, an' she's been +taken sick, so I came right home. But you can't +sneak out of answerin' me like that, Miss Slyboots," +Phœbe continued, in high spirits.</p> + +<p>Seating herself on the arm of her sister's chair, +she put her arms about her neck and, bending over, +whispered:</p> + +<p>"Tell me honest, now, Rebecca, did Joe Chandler +ever propose to you?"</p> + +<p>"No, he never did!" the elder sister exclaimed, +rising suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Droop," she continued, "your hull plan +is jest too absurd to think of——"</p> + +<p>Droop tried to expostulate, but she raised her voice, +speaking more quickly.</p> + +<p>"An' you come 'round again after supper an' we'll +tell ye what we've decided," she concluded.</p> + +<p>The humor of this reply was lost on Copernicus, +but he moved toward the door with a sense of distinct +encouragement.</p> + +<p>"Remember the rumpus we'll make with all them<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +inventions," Droop called back as he walked toward +the gate, "think of the money we'll make!"</p> + +<p>But Rebecca was thinking of something very different +as she stood at the front door gazing with +softened eyes at the pasture and woods beyond the +road. She seemed to see a self-willed girl breaking +her own heart and another's rather than acknowledge +a silly error. She was wondering if that had really +been Rebecca Wise. She felt again all the old bewitching +heart-pangs, sweetened and mellowed by +time, and she wondered if she were <i>now</i> really Rebecca +Wise.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">A VISIT TO THE PANCHRONICON</h3> + + +<p>At precisely eight o'clock that evening, a knock<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +was again heard at the door of the Wise home, and +Droop was admitted by the younger sister. She did +not speak, and her face was invisible in the dark hall. +The visitor turned to the right and entered the parlor, +followed by his young hostess. Rebecca was sitting +by the lamp, sewing. As she looked up and +nodded, Droop saw that her features expressed only +gloomy severity. He turned in consternation and +caught sight for the first time of Phœbe's face. Her +eyes and pretty nose were red and her mouth was +drawn into a curve of plaintive rebellion.</p> + +<p>"Set down, Mr. Droop. Give me yer hat," she +said; and there was a suspicious catch in her voice.</p> + +<p>The visitor seated himself by the centre-table beside +the lamp and sat slowly rubbing his hands, the +while he gazed mournfully from one to the other of +the silent sisters. Phœbe sat on the long horse-hair +"settle," and played moodily with the tassel hanging +at its head.</p> + +<p>There was a long pause. Each of the women +seemed bent on forcing the other to break the silence.</p> + +<p>Poor Droop felt that his plans were doomed, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +he dared not urge either woman to speech, lest he +hear the death-sentence of his hopes. Finally, however, +the awkward silence became unbearable.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he said, inquiringly, still rubbing his +hands.</p> + +<p>"Well," Rebecca exclaimed, "it seems it's not to +be done," and she looked reproachfully at Phœbe.</p> + +<p>The words fulfilled his fears, but the tone and +glance produced a thrill of hope. It was evident that +Rebecca at least favored his plans.</p> + +<p>Turning now to the younger sister, Droop asked, +in a melancholy tone:</p> + +<p>"Don't you want to get rich, Cousin Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>"Rich—me!" she replied, indignantly. "A mighty +lot of riches it'll bring me, won't it? That's just what +riles me so! You an' Rebecca just think of nothin' +but your own selves. You never stop to think of +me!"</p> + +<p>Droop opened his eyes very wide indeed, and Rebecca +said, earnestly:</p> + +<p>"Phœbe, you know you ain't got any call to say +sech a thing!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, haven't I?" cried Phœbe, in broken accents. +"Did either of you think what would happen to me +if we all went back to 1876? Two years old! That's +what I'd be! A little toddling baby, like Susan Mellick's +Annie! Put to bed before supper—carried +about in everybody's arms—fed on a bottle and—and +perhaps—and perhaps getting <i>spanked</i>!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>With the last word, Phœbe burst into tears of +mingled grief and mortification and rushed from the +room.</p> + +<p>The others dared not meet each other's guilty eyes. +Droop gazed about the room in painful indecision. +He could not bear to give up all hope, and yet—this +unforeseen objection really seemed a very serious +one. To leave the younger sister behind was out of +the question. On the other hand, the consequences +of the opposite course were—well, painful to her at +least.</p> + +<p>In his nervousness he unconsciously grasped a +small object on the table upon which his left hand +had been lying. It was a miniature daintily painted +on ivory. He looked vacantly upon it; his mind at +first quite absent from his eyes. But as he gazed, +something familiar in the lovely face depicted there +fixed his attention. Before long he was examining +the picture with the greatest interest.</p> + +<p>"Well, now!" he exclaimed, at length. "Ain't +that pretty! Looks jest like her, too. When was +that tuck, Miss Wise?"</p> + +<p>"That ain't Phœbe," said Rebecca, dejectedly.</p> + +<p>"Ain't Phœbe!" Droop cried, in amazement. +"Why, it's the finest likeness—why—but—it <i>must</i> +be yer sister!"</p> + +<p>"Well, 'tain't. Thet pictur is jest three hundred +years old."</p> + +<p>"Three hundred—" he began—then very slowly, +"Well, now, do tell!" he said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Phœbe's got the old letter that tells about it. +The's a lot of 'em in that little carved-wood box +there. They say it come over in the Mayflower."</p> + +<p>Droop could not take his eyes from the picture. +The likeness was perfect. Here was the pretty youthful +oval of her face—the same playful blue eye—the +sensitive red lips seeming about to sparkle into +a smile—even the golden brown mist of hair that +hid the delicately turned ear!</p> + +<p>Then Droop suddenly remembered his plans, and +with his hand he dropped the picture as his mind dismissed +it. He rose and looked about for his hat.</p> + +<p>"Ye wouldn't want to come back to '76 with me +an' leave Cousin Phœbe behind, would ye?" he suggested, +dismally.</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Rebecca, giving vent to her pent-up +feelings, "an' never see my sister again! Why, I'd +hev to come livin' along up behind her, and, all I +could do, I'd never catch up with her—never! You'd +ought to be ashamed to stand there an' think o' sech a +thing, Copernicus Droop!"</p> + +<p>For some time he stood with bent head and shoulders, +twirling his hat between his fingers. At length +he straightened up suddenly and moved toward the +door.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "the' isn't any use you seem' the +Panchronicon now, is the'?"</p> + +<p>"What's it like, Mr. Droop?" Rebecca inquired.</p> + +<p>He paused helpless before the very thought of description.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh," he said, weakly, "et's like—et's a—why—Oh, +it's a machine!"</p> + +<p>"Hez it got wings?"</p> + +<p>"Not exactly wings," he began, then, more earnestly, +"why don't ye come and see it, anyway! +It can't do ye any harm to jest look at it!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca dropped her hands into her lap and replied, +with a hesitating manner:</p> + +<p>"I'd like to fust rate—it must be an awful queer +machine! But I don't get much time fer traipsin' +'round now days."</p> + +<p>"Why can't ye come right along now?" Droop +asked, eagerly. "It's dry as a bone underfoot down +in the swamp now. The's ben no rain in a long +time."</p> + +<p>She pondered some time before replying. Her +first impulse was to reject the proposal as preposterous. +The hour seemed very ill chosen. Rebecca was +not accustomed to leaving home for any purpose at +night, and she was extremely conservative.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, she felt that only under cover +of the darkness could she consent to go anywhere in +company with the village reprobate. Every tongue +in the place would be set wagging were she seen +walking with Copernicus Droop. She had not herself +known how strong was the curiosity which his startling +theories and incredible story had awakened in +her. She looked up at her visitor with indecision in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how I could go now," she said. "Be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span>sides, +it's mos' too dark to see the thing, ain't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Not a mite," he replied, confidently. "The's +lights inside I can turn on, an' we'll see the hull thing +better'n by daylight."</p> + +<p>Then, as she still remained undecided, he continued, +in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"Cousin Phœbe's up in her room, ain't she? Ye +might not get another chance so easy."</p> + +<p>He had guessed instinctively that, under the circumstances, +Rebecca preferred not revealing to +Phœbe her own continued interest in the wonderful +machine.</p> + +<p>The suggestion was vital. Phœbe was in all probability +sulking in her own bedroom, and in that event +would not quit it for an hour. It seemed now or +never.</p> + +<p>Rebecca rolled up her knitting work and rose to +her feet.</p> + +<p>"Jest wait here a spell," she said, rapidly. "I +won't be a minute!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Shortly afterward, two swiftly moving, shadowy +figures emerged from the little white gate and turned +into a dark lane made more gloomy by overhanging +maples. This was the shortest route to Burnham's +swamp.</p> + +<p>Copernicus was now more hopeful. He could not +but feel that, if the elder sister came face to face with +his marvellous machine, good must result for his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +plans. Rebecca walked with nervous haste, dreading +Phœbe's possible discovery of this most unconventional +conduct.</p> + +<p>The night was moonless, and the two stumbled and +groped their way down the lane at a pace whose slowness +exasperated Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"Ef I'd a-known!" she exclaimed, under her +breath.</p> + +<p>"We're 'most there, Cousin Rebecca," said Copernicus, +with deprecating softness. "Here, give me +holt o' yer hand while we climb over the wall. Here's +Burnham's swamp right now."</p> + +<p>Accepting the proffered aid, Rebecca found herself +in the midst of a thicket of bushes, many of +which were thorny and all of which seemed bent +upon repelling nocturnal adventurers.</p> + +<p>Droop, going ahead, did his best to draw aside the +obstinate twigs, and Rebecca followed him with half-averted +head, lifting her skirts and walking sidewise.</p> + +<p>"'Mighty lucky, 'tain't wet weather!" she mumbled.</p> + +<p>At that moment her guide stood still.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed, in a low, half-awed voice.</p> + +<p>Rebecca stopped and gazed about. A little to the +right the dark gray of the sky was cut by a looming +black mass of uncertain form.</p> + +<p>It looked like the crouching phantom of some +shapeless sea-monster. Rebecca half expected to see +it dissolve like a wind-driven fog.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> + +<p>Their physical sight could distinguish nothing of +the outer characteristics of this mysterious structure; +but for this very reason, the imagination was the +more active. Rebecca, with all her directness of +nature and commonplace experience, felt in this unwonted +presence that sense of awed mystery which +she would have called a "creepy feeling."</p> + +<p>What unknown and incomprehensible forces were +locked within that formless mass? By what manner +of race as yet unborn had its elements been brought +together—no, no—<i>would</i> they be brought together? +How assume a comfortable mental attitude toward +this creation whose present existence so long antedated +its own origin?</p> + +<p>One sentiment, at least, Rebecca could entertain +with hearty consistency. Curiosity asserted its supremacy +over every other feeling.</p> + +<p>"Can't we get into the thing, an' light a candle or +suthin'?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Of course we can," said Droop. "That's what I +brought ye here fer. Take holt o' my hand an' lift +yer feet, or you'll stumble."</p> + +<p>Leading his companion by the hand, Copernicus +approached the dark form, moving with great caution +over the clumps of grassy turf. Presently he +reached the side of the machine. Rebecca heard him +strike it with his hand two or three times, as though +groping for something. Then she was drawn forward +again, and suddenly found herself entering an invisible +doorway. She stumbled on the threshold and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +flung out her free hand for support. She clutched +at a hand-rail that seemed to lead spirally upward.</p> + +<p>Droop's voice came out of the blackness.</p> + +<p>"Jest wait here a minute," he said. "I'll go up +an' turn on the light."</p> + +<p>She heard him climbing a short flight of stairs, and +a few moments later a flood of light streamed from +a doorway above her head, amply lighting the little +hallway in which Rebecca was standing.</p> + +<p>The hand-rail to which she was already clinging +skirted the iron stairs leading to the light, and she +started at once up this narrow spiral.</p> + +<p>She was met at the door by Copernicus, who was +smiling with a proud complacency.</p> + +<p>"Wal, Cousin Rebecca," he said, with a sweeping +gesture indicating their general surroundings, "what +d'ye think o' this?"</p> + +<p>They were standing at the head of a sort of companion-way +in a roomy antechamber much resembling +the general cabin of a luxurious old-time sailing-packet. +The top of the stairs was placed between +two windows in one side wall of the machine, through +which there was just then entering a gentle breeze. +Two similar openings faced these in the opposite side +wall, and under each of the four windows there +was a long wooden bench carrying a flat mattress +cushion.</p> + +<p>In the middle of the room, on a square deep-piled +rug, stood a table covered with a red cloth and surrounded +by three or four solid-looking upholstered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +chairs. Here were some books and papers, and directly +over the table a handsome electric chandelier +hung from the ceiling of dark-wood panels. This +was the source of their present illumination.</p> + +<p>"This here's the settin'-room," Droop explained. +"An' these are the state-rooms—that's what he called +'em."</p> + +<p>He walked toward two doors in one of the end +walls and, opening one of them, turned the switch of +the lamp within.</p> + +<p>"'Lectric lights in it, like down to Keene," Rebecca +remarked, approaching the cabin and peering +in.</p> + +<p>She saw a small bedroom comfortably furnished. +The carpet was apparently new, and on the tastefully +papered walls hung a number of small oil-paintings.</p> + +<p>Droop opened the other door.</p> + +<p>"They're both alike," he said.</p> + +<p>Rebecca glanced into the second apartment, which +was indeed the counterpart of its companion.</p> + +<p>"Well, it wouldn't do no harm to sweep an' beat +these carpets!" she exclaimed. Then, slipping her +forefinger gingerly over the edge of a chair: "Look +at that dust!" she said, severely, holding up her hand +for inspection.</p> + +<p>But Droop had bustled off to another part of the +room.</p> + +<p>"Here's lockers under these window-seats," he explained, +with a dignified wave of the hand. "Here's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +books an' maps in this set o' shelves. Here's a small +pianner that plays itself when you turn on the electricity——"</p> + +<p>There was a stumbling crash and a suppressed cry +at the foot of the stairs.</p> + +<p>With his heart in his mouth, Droop leaped to the +chandelier and turned out the lights; then rushed to +the state-rooms and was about to turn their switches +as well, when a familiar voice greeted their ears from +below—</p> + +<p>"Don't be scared—it's only Phœbe."</p> + +<p>"What ever possessed—" began Rebecca, in a low +tone.</p> + +<p>But at that moment Phœbe's head appeared over +the stair rail in the light shed from the two state-rooms.</p> + +<p>"Won't you light up again, Mr. Droop?" she said, +merrily, smiling the while into her sister's crestfallen +face. "I heard you two leavin' the house, an' I just +guessed what you'd be up to. So I followed you +down here."</p> + +<p>She dropped into one of the chairs beside the table +just as Droop relighted the lamps.</p> + +<p>With one slender hand resting upon the table, she +looked up into Droop's face and went on:</p> + +<p>"I was havin' a dreadful time, stumbling over +stocks an' stones at every step, till suddenly there was +quite a light struck my face, and first I knew I was +lookin' right into your lighted windows. I guess +we'll have a pleasant meetin' here of all the folks in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +town pretty soon—not to mention the skeeters, +which are comin' right early this year!"</p> + +<p>"Lands sakes!" cried Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"There now!" exclaimed Copernicus, bustling +toward the windows, "I must be a nateral born fool!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed in high spirits at thought of her +prank, while Droop closed the tight iron shutters at +each window, thus confining every ray of light.</p> + +<p>Rebecca seated herself opposite Phœbe and looked +severely straight before her with her hands folded +in her lap. She was ashamed of her curiosity and +much chagrined at being discovered in this unconventional +situation by her younger sister.</p> + +<p>Phœbe gazed about her and, having taken in the +general aspect of the antechamber in which they were +assembled, she explored the two state-rooms. Thence +she returned for a more detailed survey. Droop followed +her about explaining everything, but Rebecca +remained unmoved.</p> + +<p>"What's all those dials on the wall, Mr. Droop?" +asked the younger sister.</p> + +<p>"I wish't you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," said +Droop, appealingly.</p> + +<p>Phœbe ran up very close to a large steel dial-plate +covered with figures.</p> + +<p>"Now what the land is this for?" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Thet," said Droop, slowly, "is an indicator of +height above ground and tells yer direction."</p> + +<p>"And what d'ye do with this little handle?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you set that for north or west or any other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +way, an' the hull machine keeps headed that way +until ye change it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that the rudder?"</p> + +<p>"No, that is fer settin' jest one course fer a long +ride—like's ef we was goin' north to the pole, ye +know. The rudder's in here, 'long with the other +machinery."</p> + +<p>He walked to one of the two doors which faced the +state-rooms.</p> + +<p>Phœbe followed him and found herself in the presence +of a bewildering array of controlling and guiding +handles—gauges—test cocks—meters and indicators. +She was quite overawed, and listened with a +new respect for her distant relative as he explained +the uses of the various instruments. It was evident +that he had quite mastered the significance of each +implement.</p> + +<p>When Droop had completed his lecture, Phœbe +found that she understood the uses of three of the +levers. The rest was a mystery to her.</p> + +<p>"This is the starting-lever," she said. "This steers, +and this reverses. Is that it?"</p> + +<p>"That's correct," said Droop, "an' if——"</p> + +<p>She cut him short by whisking out of the room.</p> + +<p>"What drives the thing?" she asked, as he meekly +followed her.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the's power storage an' all kinds o' works +down below stairs."</p> + +<p>"An' what's this room for?" she asked, opening the +door next the engine-room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thet's the kitchen an' butler's pantry," said +Droop. "It's mighty finely fitted up, I tell ye. That +future-man was what ye call a conusure. My, but he +could cook up fine victuals!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca found this temptation stronger than her +ill humor, and she rose with alacrity and followed her +companions into the now brightly lighted kitchen.</p> + +<p>Here the appointments were the completest possible, +and, after she and Phœbe had mastered the +theory of the electric range, they agreed that they +had never seen such a satisfactory equipment.</p> + +<p>Phœbe stood in the middle of the room and looked +about her with kindling eyes. The novelty of this +adventure had intoxicated her. Rebecca's enthusiasm +was repeated threefold in the more youthful bosom +of her sister.</p> + +<p>"My!" she cried, "wouldn't it be lovely if we could +make this our house down here for a while! What +would the Mellicks an' the Tituses an'——"</p> + +<p>"They'd take us for a lunatic asylum," Rebecca +exclaimed, severely.</p> + +<p>Phœbe considered a moment and then gravely replied:</p> + +<p>"Yes, I s'pose they would."</p> + +<p>Copernicus was pacing slowly up and down from +range to china-closet and back, rubbing his hands +slowly over each other.</p> + +<p>"I wish't you'd try to see ef ye couldn't change +yer mind, Cousin Phœbe," he said, earnestly. "Jest +think of all there is in this extrordnery vessel—what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +with kitchen an' little cunnin' state-rooms—what +with the hull machinery an' all—it's a sinful waste +to leave it all to rot away down in this here swamp +when we might all go back to the Centennial an' +get rich as—as Solomon's temple!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe led the way in silence to the outer room +again, and Droop carefully extinguished the lights in +the kitchen and engine-room.</p> + +<p>As the three stood together under the main chandelier +their faces were the exponents of three different +moods.</p> + +<p>Droop was wistful—anxious.</p> + +<p>Rebecca looked grimly regretful.</p> + +<p>In Phœbe's eyes there shone a cheerful light—but +her expression was enigmatic.</p> + +<p>"Now let's go home," she said, briskly. "I've +got somethin' that I want to talk to Rebecca about. +Can't you call in to-morrow mornin', Mr. Droop?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ye believe ye might change yer mind?" he +asked, mournfully.</p> + +<p>"We'll be through with the breakfast an' have +things set to rights by eight o'clock," said Phœbe.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">A NOCTURNAL EVASION</h3> + + +<p>Promptly at the appointed time, Copernicus Droop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +might have been seen approaching the white cottage. +Still nursing a faint hope, he walked with nervous +rapidity, mumbling and gesticulating in his excitement. +He attracted but little attention. His erratic +movements were credited to his usual potations, and +no one whom he passed even gave him a second +glance.</p> + +<p>Nearing the house he saw Phœbe leaning out of +one of the second-story windows. She had been gazing +westward toward Burnham's swamp, but she +caught sight of Droop and nodded brightly to him. +Then she drew in her head and pulled down the window.</p> + +<p>Phœbe opened the door as Copernicus entered the +garden gate, and it was at once apparent that her +buoyant mood was still upon her, for she actually +offered her hand to her visitor as he stood at the +threshold wiping his feet.</p> + +<p>"Good mornin'," she said. "I've ben tryin' to see +if I could find the Panchronicon out of my window. +It's just wonderful how well it's hidden in the +bushes."</p> + +<p>She led him to the parlor and offered him a seat.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where's Cousin Rebecca?" he said, as he carefully +placed his hat on the floor beside his chair.</p> + +<p>Phœbe seated herself opposite to her visitor with +her back to the windows, so that her face was in +shadow.</p> + +<p>"Rebecca's upstairs," she replied.</p> + +<p>Then, after a moment's pause: "She's packin' up," +she said.</p> + +<p>Droop straightened up excitedly.</p> + +<p>"What—packin'!" he cried. "Hev ye decided ye'll +go, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Phœbe, slowly, "we have an'—an' +we haven't."</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Droop, it's just like this," she exclaimed, +leaning forward confidentially. "Ye see, +Rebecca an' I are both just plumb crazy to try that +wonderful plan of cuttin' meridians at the North +Pole—an' we're wild fer a ride on that queer kind +of a boat or whatever ye call it. At the same time, +Rebecca has to acknowledge that it's askin' too much +of me to go back to two years old an' live like a baby. +For one thing, I wouldn't have a thing to wear."</p> + +<p>"But ye might make some clothes before ye start," +Droop suggested.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Droop!" Phœbe exclaimed, severely, "what +<i>do</i> you s'pose folks would say if Rebecca and I was to +set to work makin' baby clothes—two old maids like +us?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>Droop looked down in confusion and plucked at +the edge of his coat.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise, you're only just tryin' to be smart +fer argument!"</p> + +<p>This sentence was delivered with a suddenness +which was startling. Droop looked up with a jump +to find Rebecca standing at the door with a pile of +clean sheets on her arm.</p> + +<p>She was gazing sternly at Phœbe, who appeared +somewhat disconcerted.</p> + +<p>"You know's well's I do," continued the elder +sister, "that every one o' your baby clothes is folded +an' put away as good as new in the attic."</p> + +<p>Phœbe rallied quickly and repelled this attack with +spirit.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't care. They'll stay right where they +are, Rebecca," she answered, with irritation. "You +know we settled it last night that I wasn't to be pestered +about goin' back to 1876!"</p> + +<p>"That's true," was the reply, "but don't you be +givin' such fool reasons for it. It's really just because +you're afraid o' bein' whipped an' put to bed—an' +goodness knows, you deserve it!"</p> + +<p>With this, Rebecca turned grimly and went into +the garden to hang the sheets up for an airing.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's awkward pause, and then +Phœbe broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"Our plan's this, Mr. Droop," she said, "an' I hope +you'll agree. We want to have you take us to the +North Pole and unwind about six years. That'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +take us back before the World's Fair in Chicago, +when I was eighteen years old, an' we can see fer +ourselves how it feels to be livin' backward an' growin' +younger instead of older every minute."</p> + +<p>"But what's the good of that?" Droop asked, querulously. +"I ain't goin' to do it jest fer fun. I'm +growin' too old to waste time that way. My plan +was to make money with all them inventions."</p> + +<p>"Well, an' why can't ye?" she replied, coaxingly. +"There's that X-ray invention, now. Why couldn't +you show that at the World's Fair an' get a patent +fer it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand that business," he replied, +sharply. "Besides I can't get one o' them X-ray machines—they +cost a heap."</p> + +<p>This was a blow to Phœbe's plan and she fell +silent, thinking deeply. She had foreseen that Droop +would take only a mercenary view of the matter +and had relied upon the X-ray to provide him with +a motive. But if he refused this, what was she +to do?</p> + +<p>Suddenly her face lighted up.</p> + +<p>"I've got it!" she cried. "You know those movin' +picture boxes ye see down to Keene, where ye turn +a handle and a lot of photograph cards fly along like +rufflin' the leaves of a book. Why, it just makes +things look alive, Mr. Droop. I'm sure those weren't +thought of six years ago. They're span spinter new. +Why won't they do?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't got one o' those either," Droop grumbled.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +"I've got a kodak an' a graphophone an' a lot o' Milliken's +cough syrup with the recipe——"</p> + +<p>"Why there!" cried Phœbe, exultantly. "Milliken's +cough syrup is only four years old, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Droop did not reply, but his silence was a virtual +assent.</p> + +<p>"The's a mint o' money in that—you know there +is, Mr. Droop," she urged. "Why, I guess Mr. Milliken +must have two or three millions, hasn't he?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca returned at this moment and seated herself +on the haircloth settle, nodding silently to Droop.</p> + +<p>"What's about Mr. Milliken's money, Phœbe?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"Why Mr. Droop says the X-ray is no good because +it costs a heap and he hasn't got a machine fer it—an' +I was tellin' him that Milliken's cough syrup was just +as good—for that wasn't invented six years ago, +an'——"</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise, what do you mean!" exclaimed Rebecca. +"Why, it would be jest like robbery to take +Mr. Milliken's syrup, an' palm it off as Mr. Droop's. +I'm surprised at ye!"</p> + +<p>This attack upon the ethical plane struck Phœbe +speechless. She blushed and stammered, but had no +reply to make. The seeming defeat really concealed +a victory, however, for it instantly converted Copernicus +into an ally.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand the thing, Cousin Rebecca," +he said, gently but firmly. "Ye see ef we +go six years back, it'll be a time when Mr. Milliken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +hadn't ever thought of his cough syrup. How could +we be robbin' him of somethin' he hasn't got?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca looked confused for a moment, but was +not to be so easily convinced.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't somethin' he ain't thought of," she said, +stoutly. "He's makin' money out of it, an' ef we +get back before him, why, when time comes agin for +him to invent it he won't have it to invent. I'm sure +that's jest as bad as robbin' him, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe looked anxiously at Copernicus and was +much pleased to find him apparently unmoved.</p> + +<p>"Why, you certainly don't understand this yet," he +insisted. "Milliken ain't agoin' back six years with +us, is he? He'll jest go right along livin' as he's ben +doin'."</p> + +<p>"What!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Will he be livin' +in one time an' we be livin' in another—both at the +same—" She stopped. What <i>was</i> she saying!</p> + +<p>"No—no!" replied Copernicus. "He'll go on livin'. +That's what he <i>will</i> do. We'll go on havin' +lived. Or to put it different—we <i>have</i> gone on livin' +after we get back six years—to 1892. Ye see, we +really have past all the six years—so the's no harm +in it. Milliken won't be hurt."</p> + +<p>Rebecca glanced at Phœbe, in whose face she +found her own perplexity reflected. Then, throwing +out her hands, as though pushing away her +crowding mental obstructions, she cried:</p> + +<p>"There—there! I can't get the hang of it. It's +too much for me!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, when you've done it once it'll be all easy +and clear," said Droop, soothingly.</p> + +<p>Phœbe looked hopefully into his face.</p> + +<p>"Will you take us, Mr. Droop?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I s'pose I'll hev to."</p> + +<p>"An' only unwind six years?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—jest six years."</p> + +<p>She jumped up excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll be off to my packin'!"</p> + +<p>She ran to the door and, pausing here, turned again +to their visitor.</p> + +<p>"Can we start to-night, Mr. Droop?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed!" he replied. "The sooner the better."</p> + +<p>"That's splendid!" she cried, and ran quickly up +the stairs.</p> + +<p>The two older people sat for a while in melancholy +silence, looking down. Each had hoped for more +than this. Copernicus tried to convince himself that +the profit from the cough syrup would comfort him +for his disappointment. Rebecca dismissed with a +sigh the dreams which she had allowed herself to entertain—those +bright fictions centering on Joe Chandler—not +the subdued old bachelor of 1898, but the jolly +young fellow of the famous Centennial year.</p> + +<p>At length Rebecca looked up and said:</p> + +<p>"After all, Mr. Droop, come to think of it, you've +no call to take us with ye. I can't do ye any good—goin' +back only six years."</p> + +<p>"Yes ye can," said Droop. "I'll need somebody<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +to help me keep house in the Panchronicon. I ain't +no hand at cookin' an' all, an' besides, it'll be mighty +lonely without anybody in there."</p> + +<p>"Well," she rejoined, rising, "I'll jest go up an' +finish my packin'."</p> + +<p>"An' I'll go tend to mine."</p> + +<p>As they parted at the front door, it was arranged +that Droop was to bring a wheelbarrow after supper +and transport the sisters' belongings, preparatory to +their departure.</p> + +<p>The rest of the day was spent in preparation for +the momentous voyage. Phœbe went to the little +bank at Peltonville station and withdrew the entire +savings of herself and sister, much to the astonishment +and concern of the cashier. She walked all +the way to the bank and back alone, for it was obviously +necessary to avoid inconvenient questions.</p> + +<p>When the two sisters stood in their little dining-room +with the heap of greenbacks on the table before +them, Rebecca was attacked by another conscientious +scruple.</p> + +<p>"I don't hardly know as we're doin' right, Phœbe," +she said, shaking her head dubiously. "When we +get back to 1892 we'd ought to find some money in +the bank already. Ef we hev this with us, too, seems +to me we'll hev more'n we're entitled to. Ain't it +a good deal like cheatin' the bank?"</p> + +<p>"Mercy, no!" Phœbe exclaimed, pettishly. "You're +forever raisin' some trouble like that! Ain't this +our money?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes—but——"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, what's the use o' talkin' 'bout it? +Just wait till we can mention your trouble to Mr. +Droop. He'll have a good answer for you."</p> + +<p>"But s'posin' he can't answer it?" Rebecca insisted.</p> + +<p>"Well, if he can't we can give back the difference +to the bank."</p> + +<p>So saying, Phœbe took her share of the bills and +quickly left the room.</p> + +<p>"I've got lots of things to do before night," she +remarked.</p> + +<p>At promptly half-past nine all the lights in the +house were extinguished, and the two sisters sat together +in the dark parlor awaiting Copernicus. It +was Rebecca who had insisted on putting out the +lights.</p> + +<p>"Ef folks was to see lights here so late in the +night," she said, "they'd suspicion somethin' an' they +might even call in."</p> + +<p>Phœbe admitted the justness of this reasoning, and +they had both directed every endeavor to completing +all their arrangements before their accustomed +bed-time.</p> + +<p>It was not long after this that a stealthy step was +heard on the gravel path and Phœbe hurried to the +door. Copernicus came in with a low word of greeting +and followed the ghostly shadow of his hostess +into the parlor.</p> + +<p>The three stood together in the dark and con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span>versed +in an undertone, like so many conspirators +surrounded by spies.</p> + +<p>"Hev ye got everythin' ready?" Droop asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phœbe. "The's only two little trunks +for you. Did you bring the wheelbarrow?"</p> + +<p>"Yep—I left it outside the gate. 'Twould hev +made a lot of noise on the gravel inside."</p> + +<p>"That's right," said Phœbe. "I guess you'll not +have any trouble to carry both o' those trunks at +once. We haven't packed only a few things, 'cause +I expect we'll find all our old duds ready for us in +1892, won't we?"</p> + +<p>"Why, 'f course," said Droop.</p> + +<p>"But how 'bout linen—sheets an' table-cloths an' +all?" said Rebecca. "We'll need some o' them on +the trip, won't we?"</p> + +<p>"I've got a hull slew o' them things in the Panchronicon," +said Copernicus. "Ye won't hev to +bother a bit about sech things."</p> + +<p>"How long do you s'pose it'll take to make the +trip," asked Phœbe. "I mean by the clock? We +won't have to do any washing on the way, will we?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see how we can," Rebecca broke in. +"The's not a blessed tub on the hull machine."</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Droop, reassuringly. "We'll make +a bee-line for the pole, an' we'll go 'bout three times +as fast as a lightnin' express train. We'd ought to +reach there in about twenty-four hours, I guess. +Then we'll take it easy cuttin' meridians, so's not +to suffer from side weight, an'——"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Side weight!" exclaimed the two women together.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Droop. "That's a complaint ye get +ef ye unwind the time too fast. Ye see, growin' +young isn't a thing folks is used to, an' it disgrummages +the hull constitution ef ye grow young too +fast. Well, 's I was a-sayin', I guess it'll take 'bout +eighteen hours by the clock to cut back six years. +Thet's by the clock, ye understand. As a matter +of fact, of course, we'll be just six years less'n no +time in finishin' the trip."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Phœbe, briskly, "that's no kind o' +reason fer dawdlin' about it now. Let's be startin'."</p> + +<p>"Where's the trunks?" said Droop.</p> + +<p>The trunks were pointed out, and with very little +trouble Copernicus put them onto the barrow. He +then came to the door for his last instructions.</p> + +<p>"'S anythin' more?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"No," said Rebecca. "We'll bring on our special +duds in our arms. We'll wait a spell an' come on +separate."</p> + +<p>The door was carefully closed and they soon heard +the slight creak of the weighted wheel as Droop set +off with the trunks for Burnham's swamp.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," said Phœbe, bustling into the parlor, +"let's get our things all together ready to start. +Have ye got your satchel with the money in it?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca gently slapped a black leather bag hanging +at her side.</p> + +<p>"Here 'tis," she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let's see," Phœbe went on. "Here's my box with +the letters an' miniature, here's the box with the +jewelry, an' here's that book Mrs. Bolton gave me +about Bacon writin' Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>"Whatever air ye takin' that old book fer, +Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to read on the train—I mean on the way, +ye know. We'll likely find it pretty pokey in that +one room all day."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what ye mean by 'all day,'" Rebecca +exclaimed in a discouraged tone. "So far's I +see, th'ain't goin' to be any days. What'll it feel +like—livin' backward that way? D'ye guess it'll +make us feel sick, like ridin' backward in the cars?"</p> + +<p>"Don't ask me," Phœbe exclaimed, despairingly. +"'F I knew what 'twas like, perhaps I wouldn't feel +so like goin'."</p> + +<p>She straightened herself suddenly and stood rigid.</p> + +<p>"Hark!" she exclaimed. "Is that Mr. Droop comin' +back, d'you s'pose?"</p> + +<p>There were distinctly audible footsteps on the +path.</p> + +<p>Phœbe came out into the hall on tiptoe and stood +beside her sister.</p> + +<p>There was a knock on the door. The two sisters +gripped each other's arms excitedly.</p> + +<p>"'Taint Copernicus!" Rebecca whispered very +low.</p> + +<p>The knock was repeated; rather louder this time. +Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>—</p> + +<p>"Miss Wise—Miss Wise—are ye to home?"</p> + +<p>It was a woman's voice.</p> + +<p>"Sarah Allen!" Phœbe exclaimed under her +breath.</p> + +<p>"Whatever shall we do?" Rebecca replied.</p> + +<p>"Miss Wise," the voice repeated, and then their +visitor knocked again, much more loudly.</p> + +<p>"I'll go to the door," exclaimed Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"But——"</p> + +<p>"I must. She'll raise the whole town if I don't."</p> + +<p>So saying, Phœbe walked noisily to the door and +unlocked it.</p> + +<p>"Is that you, Mis' Allen?" she asked.</p> + +<p>The door was opened, and Phœbe found herself +face to face with a short, light woman whose white +garments shone gray in the night.</p> + +<p>"Why, you're up'n dressed!" exclaimed Mrs. Allen. +She did not offer to enter, but went on excitedly:</p> + +<p>"Miss Phœbe," she said, "d'you know I b'lieve +you've ben robbed."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"Yes; on'y a minute ago I was a-comin' up the +road from M'ria Payson's—you know she's right +sick an' I've ben givin' her massidge—an' what sh'd +I see but a man comin' out o' your gate with suthin' +on his shoulder. I couldn't see who 'twas, an' he was +so quiet an' sneaky without a light that I jest slipped +behind a tree. You know I've ben dreadful skeery +ever sence Tom was brought home with his arm<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +broke after a fight with a strange man in the dark. +Well, this man to-night he put the bundle or what +not into a wheelbarrow an' set off quiet as a mouse. +He went off down that way, an' says I to myself, +'It's a robber ben burglin' at the Wise's house,' says +I, an' I come straight here to see ef ye was both +murdered or what. Air ye all right? Hez he broken +yer door? Hev ye missed anythin'?"</p> + +<p>As the little woman paused for breath, Phœbe +seized her opportunity.</p> + +<p>"Did you say he went off to the north, Mis' Allen?" +she said, with feigned excitement.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear—oh, dear!" cried Phœbe, wringing her +hands. "Didn't I say I heard a noise—I told you I +heard a burglar, Rebecca," she went on, hysterically, +turning to her sister.</p> + +<p>"Is Miss Rebecca there?" asked Mrs. Allen.</p> + +<p>Rebecca came forward in silence. She was quite +nonplussed. To tell the truth, Phœbe's sudden outburst +was as great a tax upon her nerves as Mrs. +Allen's unwelcome visit. Surely Phœbe had said +nothing about a burglar! It was Droop that Mrs. +Allen had seen—of course it was. She dared not +say so in their visitor's presence, but she wondered +mightily at Phœbe's apparent perturbation.</p> + +<p>Phœbe guessed her sister's mental confusion, and +she sought to draw Mrs. Allen's attention to herself +to avoid the betrayal of their plans which would certainly +follow Rebecca's joining the conversation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mis' Allen," she exclaimed, excitedly, "the's just +one thing to be done. Won't you run's quick's ever +you can to Si Pray, an' ask him to bring his gun? +You won't meet the burglar 'cause he's gone the +other way. Rebecca 'nd I'll jest wait here for you +an' Si. I'll get some hot water from the kitchen, +in case the burglar should come back while you're +gone. Oh, please will you do it?"</p> + +<p>"Course I will," was the nervous reply. This hint +of the possible return of the robbers made an immediate +retreat seem very desirable. "I'll go right now. +Won't be gone a minute. Lock your door now—quick!"</p> + +<p>She turned and sped down the path. She had not +reached the gate before Phœbe walked rapidly into +the parlor.</p> + +<p>"Quick—quick!" she panted, frantically gathering +up her belongings. "Get your duds an' come along."</p> + +<p>"But what d'you——"</p> + +<p>"Come—come—come!" cried Phœbe. "Come +quick or they'll all be here. Gun and all!"</p> + +<p>With her arm full of bundles, Phœbe rushed back +through the hall and out of the front door. Rebecca +followed her, drawn along by the fiery momentum +of her sister.</p> + +<p>"Lock the front door, Rebecca," Phœbe cried. +Then, as she reached the gate and found it fastened: +"Here, I can't undo the gate. My hands are full. +Oh, <i>do</i> hurry, Rebecca! We haven't a minute!"</p> + +<p>The elder sister locked the front door and started<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +down the path in such a nervous fever that she left +the key in the lock. Half way to the gate she paused.</p> + +<p>"Come on—come on!" Phœbe cried, stamping her +foot.</p> + +<p>"My land!" stammered Rebecca. "I've forgot +everythin'!" She started back, running with short, +unaccustomed steps.</p> + +<p>"My umbrella!" she gasped. "My recipes—my +slips!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe was speechless with anger and apprehension +at this delay, and Rebecca was therefore allowed +to re-enter the house without objection.</p> + +<p>In a short time she reappeared carrying an umbrella, +two flower-pots, and a folded newspaper.</p> + +<p>"There!" she panted, as she came up to her sister +and opened the gate. "Now I guess I've got everythin'!"</p> + +<p>Silently and swiftly the two women sped northward, +following the imaginary burglar, while the devoted +Mrs. Allen ran breathless in the opposite direction +for Si Pray and his gun.</p> + +<p>"We'll hev to go more careful here," said Rebecca +as they turned into the lane leading down to +the swamp.</p> + +<p>With many a stumble and some scratches they +moved more slowly down the rutted track until at +length they reached the point where they were to +turn into the swamp.</p> + +<p>Here the sisters leaned against the wall to rest +and recover breath.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My goodness, but that was a narrow escape!" +murmured Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Rebecca, with reproachful sadness; +"but I'm afraid you paid a heavy price fer it, +Phœbe!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, 's fur's I could make out, you told Mis' Allen +a deliberate wrong story, Phœbe Wise."</p> + +<p>"What did I say?" said Phœbe, in shocked surprise.</p> + +<p>"You said you hed told me you'd heerd a burglar!"</p> + +<p>"Did I say that? Those very words?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you know you did."</p> + +<p>"Wasn't it a question, Rebecca?" Phœbe insisted. +"Didn't I <i>ask</i> you ef I hadn't told you I heard a +burglar?"</p> + +<p>"No, it was a plain downright wrong story, Phœbe, +an' you needn't to try to sneak out of it."</p> + +<p>Phœbe was silent for a few moments, and then +Rebecca heard her laugh. It was a very little, rippling +thing—but it was genuine—there was real +light-heartedness behind it.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise!" exclaimed Rebecca, "how ken you +laugh so? I wouldn't hev the weight of sech a thing +on my mind fer a good deal."</p> + +<p>"Well, Rebecca," tittered her sister, "I didn't have +it on my mind yesterday, did I?"</p> + +<p>"Course not—but——"</p> + +<p>"An' won't it be yesterday for us mighty soon—yes, +an' a heap longer ago than that?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p>She laughed again merrily and began to climb +over the wall, a proceeding not rendered easier by +the various articles in her hands.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the two women had joined +Copernicus within his mysterious machine and were +standing in the brightly lighted antechamber at the +head of the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Well—well!" cried Droop, as he caught sight of +the two women for the first time in the light. +"Where ever did ye get them funny dresses? Why, +your sleeves is all puffed out near the shoulders!"</p> + +<p>"These are some of our old dresses," said Rebecca. +"They was made in 1891, an' we thought they'd +prob'bly be more in the fashion back in 1892 when +we get there than our newer dresses."</p> + +<p>"Never mind our dresses, Mr. Droop," said Phœbe. +"Where can we put down all these things? My arms +are breakin' off."</p> + +<p>"Right here, Cousin Phœbe."</p> + +<p>Droop bustled over to the state-rooms, opening +both the doors at once.</p> + +<p>"Here's a room apiece fer ye. Take yer choice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but where'll you sleep?" said Phœbe. +"P'raps Rebecca and I'd better have one room together."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit of it," said Droop. "I'll sleep on one +o' them settles under the windows. They're real +comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Well—just as you say."</p> + +<p>The sisters entered their rooms and deposited their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +bundles, but Phœbe returned at once and called to +Droop, who had started down the stairs.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Droop, you've got to start right straight off. +Mrs. Allen knows 't you've carried off the trunk and +she's comin' after us with Si Pray an' a gun."</p> + +<p>Just then they heard the loud barking of a dog. +He was apparently running rapidly down the lane.</p> + +<p>"Sakes alive!" cried Phœbe, in alarm. "Slam to +that door, Copernicus Droop! Si has let his dog +loose an' he's on your tracks!"</p> + +<p>The baying was repeated—now much nearer. +Droop clattered frantically down the stairs, and shut +the door with a bang. At the next moment a heavy +body leaped against it, and a man's voice was heard +close at hand.</p> + +<p>"Sic um, Touser, sic um! Where is he, boy?"</p> + +<p>Up the stairs went Copernicus two steps at a time. +He dashed into the anteroom, pale and breathless.</p> + +<p>"Lie down on the floor!" he shouted. "Lie down +or ye'll get throwed down. I'm agoin' to start her!"</p> + +<p>By this time he had opened the engine-room door.</p> + +<p>The two women promptly lay flat on their backs +on the carpet.</p> + +<p>Droop braced himself firmly and had just grasped +the starting lever when a cry from Rebecca arrested +him.</p> + +<p>"Copernicus Droop—hold on!" she cried.</p> + +<p>He turned to her, his face full of anxious fear. +Rebecca lay on her back with her hands at her sides, +but her head was raised stiffly from the floor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Copernicus Droop," she said, solemnly, "hev ye +brought any rum aboard with ye? 'Cause if ye have +I won't——"</p> + +<p>She never concluded, for at this moment her head +was jerked back sharply against the floor by a tremendous +upward leap of the machine.</p> + +<p>There was a hissing roar as of a thousand rockets, +and even as Rebecca was wondering, half stunned, +why she saw so many jumping lights, Si Pray gazed +open-mouthed at the ascension of a mysterious dark +body apparently aimed at the sky.</p> + +<p>The Panchronicon had started.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">A CHANGE OF PLAN</h3> + + +<p>It was long after their bed-time and the two sisters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +were utterly exhausted; but as the mysterious +structure within which they lay glided northward +between heaven and earth with the speed of a +meteor, Rebecca and Phœbe long courted sleep in +vain.</p> + +<p>The excitement of their past adventures, the unreal +wonder of their present situation, the bewildering +possibilities and impossibilities of their future +plans—all these conspired to banish sleep until long +past midnight. It was not until, speeding due north +with the unswerving obedience of a magnet, their +vessel was sailing far above the waters of the upper +Saguenay, that they at length sank to rest.</p> + +<p>They were awakened next morning by a knocking +upon Rebecca's door.</p> + +<p>"It's pretty nigh eight-thirty," Droop cried. "I've +got the kettle on the range, but I don't know what +to do nex'."</p> + +<p>"What! Why! Who! Where! Sakes! what's +this?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca sat up in bed, unable to place herself.</p> + +<p>"It's pretty nigh half-past eight," Copernicus repeated.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +"Long after breakfast-time. I'm hungry!"</p> + +<p>By this time Phœbe was wide awake.</p> + +<p>"All right!" she cried. "We'll come in a minute."</p> + +<p>Then Rebecca knew where she was—or rather +realized that she did not know. But fortunately a +duty was awaiting her in the kitchen and this steadied +a mind which seemed to her to need some support +in the midst of these unwonted happenings.</p> + +<p>Phœbe was the first to leave her bedroom. She +had dressed with frantic speed. In her haste to get +to the windows and see the world from the sky, she +had secured her hair very imperfectly, and Droop +was favored with a charming display of bright locks, +picturesquely disarranged.</p> + +<p>"Good-mornin', Cousin Phœbe," he said, with his +suavest manner.</p> + +<p>"Good-morning, Mr. Droop," Phœbe replied. +"Where are we? Is everything all right?"</p> + +<p>She made straight for one of the windows the +iron shutters of which were now open.</p> + +<p>"I wish't you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," Droop +remarked.</p> + +<p>"Oh—oh! What a beautiful world!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe leaned her face close to the glass and gazed +spell-bound at the wonderful landscape spread before +her.</p> + +<p>The whole atmosphere seemed filled with a clear, +cold sunlight whose brilliance irradiated the giant +sphere of earth so far away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p>Directly below and to the right of their course, +as far as she could see, there was one vast expanse +of dark blue sea, gilded dazzlingly over one portion +where the sun's beams were reflected. Far ahead to +the north and as far behind them the sea was bordered +with the fantastic curves of a faint blue coast +dotted and lined with the shadows of many a hill +and mountain. It was a map on which she was gazing. +Nature's own map—the only perfect chart in the +world.</p> + +<p>So new—so intensely, almost painfully, beautiful +was this scene that Phœbe stood transfixed—fascinated. +She did not even think of speaking.</p> + +<p>The scene was not so new to Droop—and besides +he was a prey to an insistent appetite. His mental +energies, therefore, sought expression in speech.</p> + +<p>Approaching Phœbe's side, he said:</p> + +<p>"Mighty pretty, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>She did not reply, so he continued:</p> + +<p>"That water right under us is Hudson Strait. +The ocean to the right is the Atlantic. Ye can see +Hudson's Bay off to the left out o' one o' them windows. +I've ben lookin' it up on the map."</p> + +<p>He strolled toward the table, as if inviting Phœbe +to see his chart which lay there unrolled. She did +not follow him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he continued, "that's Hudson Strait, and +we're four miles high, an' that's all I'll tell ye till I +have my breakfast."</p> + +<p>He gazed wistfully at Phœbe, who did not move<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +or speak, but let her eyes wander in awed delight +over the wonders thus brought before them.</p> + +<p>Just then Rebecca emerged from her room.</p> + +<p>"Good-mornin'," she said. "I guess I'm late."</p> + +<p>"Good-mornin', Cousin Rebecca; I guess ye are a +mite late. Cousin Phœbe won't move—so I'm sayin' +we're four miles high an' right over Hudson Strait, +an' that's all I'll tell ye till I get my breakfast."</p> + +<p>"Goodness me!" exclaimed Rebecca. "Ain't that +mos' too high, Mr. Droop?" She hurried to the window +and looked out.</p> + +<p>"Sakes alive!" she gasped.</p> + +<p>She was silent for a moment, awed in her turn by +the immensity of the prospect.</p> + +<p>"Why—but—it's all water underneath!" she exclaimed +at last. "Ef we was to fall now, we'd be +drowned!"</p> + +<p>"Now don't you be a mite skeert," said Droop, +with reassuring politeness. "We've ben scootin' +along like this all night an'—an' the fact is, I've got +the kettle on—p'raps it's b'iled over."</p> + +<p>Rebecca turned from the window at once and +made for the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe," she said, briskly, "you set the table now +an' I'll hev breakfast ready in a twinklin'."</p> + +<p>Reluctantly Phœbe left the window and Droop +soon had the satisfaction of sauntering back and +forth between kitchen and dining-table in pleased +supervision of the progress of both.</p> + +<p>In due time a simple but substantial breakfast<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +was in readiness, and the three travellers were seated +around the table partaking of the meal each in his +own way.</p> + +<p>Droop was business-like, almost enthusiastic, in his +voracious hunger. Rebecca ate moderately and +without haste, precisely as though seated in the little +Peltonville cottage. Phœbe ate but little. She was +overcome by the wonders she had seen, realizing for +the first time the marvellous situation in which she +found herself.</p> + +<p>It was not until the table was cleared and the two +women were busy with the dishes that conversation +was resumed. Droop sat with his chair tilted backward +against the kitchen wall enjoying a quiet satisfaction +with his lot and a kindly mental attitude +toward all men.</p> + +<p>He glanced through the kitchen door at the barometer +on the wall in the outer room.</p> + +<p>"We've climbed near a mile since before breakfast," +he remarked.</p> + +<p>Rebecca paused before hanging up the soap-shaker.</p> + +<p>"Look here, Mr. Droop," she said, anxiously, "we +are mos' too high a'ready, I think. S'posin' we was +to fall down. Where do you s'pose we'd be?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Rebecca," said Phœbe, laughing, "do you +suppose five miles is any worse than four? I guess +we'd be killed by falling one mile jest as quick as +five."</p> + +<p>"Quicker!" Droop exclaimed. "Considerable +quicker, Cousin Rebecca, fer it would take us a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +good deal longer to fall five miles than it would +one."</p> + +<p>"But what ever's the use o' keepin' on a-climbin'?"</p> + +<p>"Why, that's the nature of this machine," he replied. +"Ye see, it runs on the rocket principle by +spurtin' out gases. Ef we want to go up off the +ground we squirt out under the machine an' that +gives us a h'ist. Then, when we get 'way up high, +we spread out a pair o' big wings like and start the +propeller at the stern end o' the thing. Now them +wings on'y holds us up by bein' inclined a mite in +front, and consequence is we're mighty apt to climb +a little right 'long."</p> + +<p>"Well, but won't we get too high?" suggested +Phœbe. "Ain't the air too thin up very high?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, we mustn't go too high," Droop conceded, +"an' I was just a-thinkin' it wouldn't go amiss +to let down a spell."</p> + +<p>He rose and started for the engine-room.</p> + +<p>"How do you let down?" Phœbe asked, pausing +in her work.</p> + +<p>"Why, I jest turn the wings horizontal, ye know, +an' then we sink very slow till I incline 'em up +again."</p> + +<p>He disappeared. Phœbe gave the last of the dishes +a brief touch of the dish-towel and then ran into the +main room to watch the barometer.</p> + +<p>She was much interested to observe a gradual but +continual decrease in their altitude. She walked to +the window but could see no apparent change, save<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +that they had now passed the sea and only the blue +land with silver streaks of river and indigo hill shadows +was beneath them.</p> + +<p>"How fast do you s'pose we're flyin', Mr. Droop?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"There's the speed indicator," he said, pointing to +one of the dials on the wall. "Ye see it says we're +a-hummin' along at about one hundred an' thirty +miles an hour."</p> + +<p>"My gracious!" cried Phœbe. "What if we was +to hit something!"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' to hit," said Droop, with a smile. "Ye +see, the's no sort o' use goin' any slower, an' besides, +this quick travellin' keeps us warm."</p> + +<p>"Why, how's that?"</p> + +<p>"The sides o' the machine rubbin' on the air," said +Droop.</p> + +<p>"That's so," Phœbe replied. "That's what heats +up meteors so awful hot, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca came out of the kitchen at this moment.</p> + +<p>"I must say ye wasn't particler about gettin' all +the pans to rights 'fore ye left the kitchen, Phœbe. +Ben makin' the beds?"</p> + +<p>"Land, no, Rebecca!" said Phœbe, blushing guiltily.</p> + +<p>"Well, there!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca said no more, but her set lips and puckered +forehead spoke much of displeasure as she +stalked across to the state-rooms.</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare to goodness!" she cried, as she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +opened her door. "Ye hevn't even opened the window +to air the rooms!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe looked quite miserable at thought of her +remissness, but Copernicus came bravely to the +rescue.</p> + +<p>"The windows can't be opened, Cousin Rebecca," +he said. "Ef ye was to open one, 'twould blow yer +head's bald as an egg in a minute."</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phœbe, briskly, "I couldn't air the +beds an' make 'em because we're going one hundred +and thirty odd miles an hour, Rebecca."</p> + +<p>"D'you mean to tell me, Copernicus Droop," cried +the outraged spinster, "that I've got to go 'thout +airin' my bed?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," Copernicus said, soothingly. "The's +special arrangements to keep ventilation goin'. Jest +leave the bed open half the day an' it'll be all +aired."</p> + +<p>Rebecca looked far from pleased at this.</p> + +<p>"I declare, ef I'd known of all these doin's," she +muttered.</p> + +<p>Unable to remain idle, she set to work "putting +things to rights," as she called it, while Phœbe took +her book to the west window and was soon lost in +certain modern theories concerning the Baconian +authorship of Shakespeare's works.</p> + +<p>"Is these duds yourn, Mr. Droop?" asked Rebecca, +sharply, pointing to a motley collection of goods piled +in one corner of the main room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes," Droop replied, coming quickly to her side. +"Them's some of the inventions I'm carryin' along."</p> + +<p>He stooped and gathered up a number of boxes +and bundles in his arms. Then he stood up and +looked about him as though seeking a safe place for +their deposit.</p> + +<p>"That's all right," said Rebecca. "Ye can put 'em +right back, Mr. Droop. I jest wanted to see whether +the' was much dust back in there."</p> + +<p>Droop replaced his goods with a sigh of relief. +One box he retained, however, and, placing it upon +the table, proceeded to unpack it.</p> + +<p>Rebecca now turned her attention to her own belongings. +Lifting one of her precious flower-pots +carefully, she looked all about for a more suitable +location for her plants.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe," she exclaimed at length, "where ever +can I set my slips? They ought to be in the sun +there by the east window, but it'll dirt up the coverin' +of the settle."</p> + +<p>Phœbe looked up from her book.</p> + +<p>"Why don't ye spread out that newspaper you +brought with you?" she said.</p> + +<p>Rebecca shook her head.</p> + +<p>"No," she replied, "I couldn't do thet. The's a +lot o' fine recipes in there—I never could make my +sweet pickle as good as thet recipe in the New York +paper thet Molly sent me."</p> + +<p>Phœbe laid down her book and walked over to her +sister's side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, the' must be some part of it you can use, +Rebecca," she said. "Land sakes!" she continued, +laughing. "Why, it's the whole of the <i>New York +World</i> for a Sunday—pictures an' all! Here—take +this advertisin' piece an' spread it out—so."</p> + +<p>She tore off a portion of the voluminous paper +and carefully spread it out on one of the eastern +settles.</p> + +<p>"Whatever did you bring those slips with you for?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>Rebecca deposited the flower-pots carefully in the +sun and slapped her hands across each other to remove +the dust on them.</p> + +<p>"One o' them is off my best honeysuckle thet come +from a slip thet Sam Mellick brought from Japan +in 1894. This geranium come off a plant thet was +given me by Arabella Slade, 'fore she died in 1896, +an' she cut it off'n a geranium thet come from a lot +thet Joe Chandler's father raised from slips cut off +of some plants down to Boston in the ground that +used to belong to our great-grandfather Wilkins 'fore +the Revolution."</p> + +<p>This train of reasoning seemed satisfactory, and +Phœbe turned to resume her book.</p> + +<p>Copernicus intercepted her as she passed the table.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye think o' this little phonograph, Cousin +Phœbe?" he said.</p> + +<p>One of Droop's boxes stood open and beside it +Phœbe saw a phonograph with the usual spring motor +and brass megaphone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I paid twenty-five fer that, secon' hand, down to +Keene," said the proud owner.</p> + +<p>"There!" exclaimed Phœbe. "I've always wanted +to know how those things worked. I've heard 'em, +you know, but I've never worked one."</p> + +<p>"It's real easy," said Droop, quite delighted to +find Phœbe so interested. "Ye see, when it's wound +up, all ye hev to do is to slip one o' these wax cylinders +on here—so."</p> + +<p>He adjusted the cylinder, dropped the stylus and +pushed the starting lever.</p> + +<p>Instantly the stentorian announcement rang out +from the megaphone.</p> + +<p>"The Last Rose of Summer—Sola—Sung by Signora +Casta Diva—Edison Record!"</p> + +<p>"Goodness gracious sakes alive!" cried Rebecca, +turning in affright. "Who's that?"</p> + +<p>Her two companions raised their right hands in a +simultaneous appeal for silence. Then the song began.</p> + +<p>With open eyes and mouth, the amazed Rebecca +drew slowly nearer, and finally took her stand directly +in front of the megaphone.</p> + +<p>The song ended and Copernicus stopped the motor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, ain't it lovely!" Phœbe cried.</p> + +<p>"Well—I'll—be—switched!" Rebecca exclaimed, +with slow emphasis. "Can it sing anythin' else?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't you never hear one afore, Cousin Rebecca?" +Droop asked.</p> + +<p>"I never did," she replied. "What on the face +of the green airth does it?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have ye any funny ones?" Phœbe asked, quickly, +fearful of receiving a long scientific lecture.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Droop. "Here's a nigger minstrels. +The's some jokes in it."</p> + +<p>The loud preliminary announcement made Rebecca +jump again, but while the music and the songs +and jokes were delivered, she stood earnestly attentive +throughout, while her companions grinned and +giggled alternately.</p> + +<p>"Is thet all?" she asked at the conclusion.</p> + +<p>"Thet's all," said Droop, as he removed the cylinder.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't see nothin' funny 'bout it," she said, +plaintively.</p> + +<p>Droop's pride was touched.</p> + +<p>"Ah, but that ain't all it can do!" he cried. "Here's +a blank cylinder. You jest talk at the machine while +it's runnin', an' it'll talk back all you say."</p> + +<p>This was too much for Rebecca's credulity, and +Droop could not induce her to talk into the trumpet.</p> + +<p>"You can't make a fool o' me, Copernicus Droop," +she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"You try, Cousin Phœbe," he said at last.</p> + +<p>Phœbe looked dubiously at her sister as though +half of opinion that her shrewd example should be +followed.</p> + +<p>"You sure it'll do it?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Certain!" cried Copernicus, nodding his head +with violence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p>She stood a moment leaning over with her pretty +lips close to the trumpet.</p> + +<p>Then she straightened up with a face of comical +despair.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what to say," she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Droop stopped the motor and looked about the +room. Suddenly his eyes brightened.</p> + +<p>"There," he cried, pointing to the book Phœbe +had been reading, "read suthin' out o' that into +it."</p> + +<p>Phœbe opened the book at random, and as Droop +started the motor again she read the following lines +slowly and distinctly into the trumpet:</p> + +<p>"It is thus made clear from the indubitable evidence +of the plays themselves that Francis Bacon +wrote the immortal works falsely ascribed to William +Shakespeare, and that the gigantic genius of this +man was the result of the possession of royal blood. +In this unacknowledged son of Elizabeth Tudor, +Queen of England, was made manifest to all countries +and for all centuries the glorious powers inherent +in the regal blood of England."</p> + +<p>"That'll do," said Droop. "Now jest hear it talk +back."</p> + +<p>He substituted the repeating stylus for the recording +point and set the motor in motion once more. +To the complete stupefaction of Rebecca, the repetition +of Phœbe's words was perfect.</p> + +<p>"Why! It's Phœbe's voice," she began, but Phœbe +broke in upon her suddenly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, see the hills on each side of us, Mr. Droop," +she cried.</p> + +<p>Droop glanced out and leaped a foot from the +ground.</p> + +<p>"Goramighty!" he screamed, "she'll strike!" He +dashed to the engine-room and threw up the forward +edges of the aeroplanes. Instantly the vessel swooped +upward and the hills Phœbe had seen appeared to +drop into some great abyss.</p> + +<p>The two women ran to a window and saw that +they were over a bleak and rocky island covered with +ice and snow.</p> + +<p>Droop came to their side, quite pale with fright.</p> + +<p>"Great Moses!" he exclaimed. "I warn't more'n +jest in time, I tell ye! We was a-settlin' fast. A +little more'n we'd ha' struck—" He snapped the +fingers of both hands and made a gesture expressive +of the complete destruction which would have resulted.</p> + +<p>"I tell you what, Mr. Droop," said Rebecca, sternly, +but with a little shake in her voice, "you've got +to jest tend to business and navigate this thing we're +a-ridin' on. You can't work and play too. Don't +you say anythin' more to Phœbe or me till we get +to the pole. What time'll that be?"</p> + +<p>"About six or half-past, I expect," said Droop, +humbly. "But I don't see how I can be workin' all +the time. The machine don't need it, an', besides, +I've got to eat, haven't I?"</p> + +<p>"When it comes time fer your victuals, Phœbe'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +watch the windows an' the little clocks on the wall +while I feed ye. But don't open yer head agin now, +only fer necessary talkin' an' eatin', till we get there. +I don't want any smash-ups 'round here."</p> + +<p>Copernicus found it expedient to obey these instructions, +and under Rebecca's watchful generalship +he was obliged to pace back and forth from engine-room +to window while Phœbe read and her sister +knitted. So passed the remainder of the day, save +when at dinner-time the famished man was relieved +by his young lieutenant.</p> + +<p>Immediately after supper, however, they all three +posted themselves at the windows, on the lookout for +the North Pole. Droop slowed down the propeller, +and the aeroplanes being thus rendered less effective +they slowly descended.</p> + +<p>They were passing over an endless plain of rough +and ragged ice. In every direction all the way to +the horizon nothing could be seen but the glare of +white.</p> + +<p>"How'll you know when we get there?" asked +Phœbe.</p> + +<p>Droop glanced apprehensively at Rebecca and replied +in a whisper:</p> + +<p>"We'll see the pole a-stickin' up. We can't go +wrong, you know. The Panchronicon is fixed to +guide itself allus due north."</p> + +<p>"You don't need to whisper—speak right up, Mr. +Droop," said Rebecca, sharply.</p> + +<p>Copernicus started, looked nervously about and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +then stared out of the window northward with a very +business-like frown.</p> + +<p>"Is the' really an' truly a pole there?" Phœbe asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Droop, shortly.</p> + +<p>"An' can ye see the meridians jammed together +like in the geographies?" asked Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"No," said Droop, "no, indeed—at least, I didn't +see any."</p> + +<p>"Why, Rebecca," said Phœbe, "the meridians are +only conventional signs, you know. They don't——"</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" Droop cried, suddenly, "what's that?" +He raised a spyglass with which he had hitherto been +playing and directed it northward for a few seconds. +Then he turned with a look of relief on his face.</p> + +<p>"It's the pole!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Phœbe snatched the spyglass and applied it to her +eye.</p> + +<p>Yes, on the horizon she could discern a thin black +line, rising vertically from the plain of ice. Even +as she looked it seemed to be nearer, so rapid was +their progress.</p> + +<p>Droop went to the engine-room, lessened speed +and brought the aeroplanes to the horizontal. He +could look directly forward through a thick glass port +directly over the starting-handle. Gradually the +great machine settled lower and lower. It was now +running quite slowly and the aeroplanes acted only +as parachutes as they glided still forward toward the +black upright line.</p> + +<p>In silence the three waited for the approaching<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +end of this first stage of their journey. A few hundred +yards south of their goal they seemed about to +alight, but Droop slightly inclined the aeroplanes +and speeded up the propeller a little. Their vessel +swept gently upward and northward again, like a +gull rising from the sea. Then Droop let it settle +again. Just as they were about to fall rather violently +upon the solid mass of ice below them, he +projected a relatively small volume of gas from beneath +the structure. Its reaction eased their descent, +and they settled down without noise or shock.</p> + +<p>They had arrived!</p> + +<p>Copernicus came forward to the window and +pointed to a tall, stout steel pole projecting from the +ice a few yards to the right of the vessel.</p> + +<p>"Thet, neighbors, is the North Pole!" he said, with +a sweeping wave of the hand.</p> + +<p>For some minutes the three voyagers stood in silence +gazing through the window at the famous pole. +This, then, was the goal of so much heroic endeavor! +It was to reach this complete opposite of all +that is ordinarily attractive that countless ambitious +men had suffered—that so many had died!</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed Rebecca at length. "I be +switched ef I see what there is fer so many folks to +make sech a fuss about!"</p> + +<p>Droop scratched his head thoughtfully and made +no reply. Surely it would have been hard to point +out any charms in the endless plain of opaque ice +hummocks, unrelieved save by that gaunt steel pole.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where's the open sea?" Rebecca asked, after a +few moments' pause. "Dr. Kane said the' was an +open sea up here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Dr. Kane!" said Droop, contemptuously. +"He's no 'count fer modern facts."</p> + +<p>"What I can't understand," said Phœbe, "is how +it comes that, if nobody's ever been up here, they +all seem to know there's a North Pole here."</p> + +<p>"That's a fact," Rebecca exclaimed. "How'd they +know about it? The' ain't anythin' in the Bible 'bout +it, is the'?"</p> + +<p>Droop looked more cheerful at this and answered +briskly:</p> + +<p>"Oh, they don't know 'bout it. Ye see, that pole +there ain't a nat'ral product of the soil at all. Et's +the future man done that—the man who invented +this Panchronicon and brought me up here before. +He told me how that he stuck that post in there to +help him run this machine 'round and 'round fer +cuttin' meridians."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed both sisters together.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Droop continued. "D'ye see thet big iron +ring 'round the pole, lyin' on the ground?"</p> + +<p>"I don't see any ground," said Rebecca, ruefully.</p> + +<p>"Well, on the ice, then. Don't ye see it lyin' +black there against the snow?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes, I see it," said Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's what I'm goin' to hitch the holdin' +rope on to. You'll see how it's done presently."</p> + +<p>He glanced at the clock.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Seven o'clock," he said. "I guessed mighty close +when I said 'twould take us twenty hours. We left +Peltonville at ten-thirty last night."</p> + +<p>"Seven o'clock!" cried Rebecca. "So 'tis. Why, +what's the matter with the sun. Ain't it goin' to +set at all?"</p> + +<p>"Not much!" said Droop, chuckling. "Sun don't +set up here, Cousin Rebecca. Not until winter-time, +an' then et stays set till summer again."</p> + +<p>"Well!" was the breathless reply. "An' where in +creation does it go when it stays set?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Rebecca," exclaimed Phœbe, "the sun is +south of the equator in winter, you know."</p> + +<p>"Shinin' on the South Pole then," Droop added, +nodding.</p> + +<p>For a moment Rebecca looked from one to the +other of her companions, and then, realizing the necessity +of keeping her mind within its accustomed +sphere, she changed the subject.</p> + +<p>"Come now—the' ain't any wind to blow us away +now, I hope. Let's open our windows an' air out +those state-rooms."</p> + +<p>She started toward her door.</p> + +<p>"Hold on!" cried Droop, extending his arm to stop +her. "You don't want to fall down dead o' cold, +do ye?"</p> + +<p>"What!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you know what a North Pole is like fer +weather an' sich?" Droop continued. "Why, Cousin +Rebecca, it's mos' any 'mount below zero outside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +Don't you open a window—not a tiny crack—if ye +don't want to freeze solid in a second."</p> + +<p>"There!" Rebecca exclaimed. "You do provoke +me beyond anythin', Copernicus Droop! Ef I'd +a-knowed the kind o' way we'd had to live—why, +there! It's wuss'n pigs!"</p> + +<p>She marched indignantly into her room and closed +the door. A moment later she put out her head.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise," she said, "if you take my advice, +you'll make your bed an' tidy yer room at once. +Ain't any use waitin' any longer fer a chance to +air."</p> + +<p>Phœbe smiled and moved toward her own door.</p> + +<p>"Thet's a good idea," said Droop. "You fix yer +rooms an' I'll do some figurin'. Ye see I've got to +figure out how long it'll take us to get back six years. +I've a notion it'll take about eighteen hours, but I +ain't certain sure."</p> + +<p>Poor Rebecca set to work in her rooms with far +from enviable feelings. Her curiosity had been +largely satisfied and the unwonted conditions were +proving very trying indeed. Could she have set out +with the prospect of returning to those magical days +of youth and courtship, as Droop had originally proposed, +the end would have justified the means. But +they could not do this now if they would, for Phœbe +had left her baby clothes behind. Thus her disappointment +added to her burdens, and she found herself +wishing that she had never left her comfortable +home, however amazing had been her adventures.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I could'v aired my bed at least," she muttered, +as she turned the mattress of her couch in the solitude +of her chamber.</p> + +<p>She found the long-accustomed details of chamber +work a comfort and solace, and, as she finally +gazed about the tidy room at her completed work, +she felt far more contented with her lot than she +had felt before beginning.</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll go help Phœbe," she thought. "The +girl is that slow!"</p> + +<p>As she came from her room she found Copernicus +leaning over the table, one hand buried in his hair +and the other wielding a pencil. He was absorbed +in arithmetical calculations.</p> + +<p>She did not disturb him, but turned and entered +Phœbe's room without the formality of knocking. +As she opened the door, there was a sharp clatter, +as of a door or lid slamming.</p> + +<p>"Who's there?" cried Phœbe, sharply.</p> + +<p>She was seated on the floor in front of her trunk, +and she looked up at her sister with a flushed and +startled face.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's you!" she said, guiltily.</p> + +<p>Rebecca glanced at the bed.</p> + +<p>It had not been touched.</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Ain't +you ever agoin' to fix up your room, Phœbe +Wise?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in a minute, Rebecca. I was just agoin' over +my trunk a minute."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>She leaned back against the foot of the bed, and +folding her hands gazed pensively into vacancy, while +Rebecca stared at her in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," Phœbe went on, "I've ben thinkin' +it's awful mean not to give you a chance to go +back to 1876, Rebecca. Joe Chandler's a mighty +fine man!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca gave vent to an unintelligible murmur +and turned to Phœbe's bed. She grasped the mattress +and gave it a vicious shake as she turned it over. +She was probably only transferring to this inoffensive +article a process which she would gladly have +applied elsewhere.</p> + +<p>There was a long silence while Rebecca resentfully +drew the sheets into proper position, smoothed +them with swift pats and caressings, and tucked them +neatly under at head and sides. Then came a soft, +apologetic voice.</p> + +<p>"Rebecca!"</p> + +<p>The spinster made no reply but applied herself to +a mathematically accurate adjustment of the top +edge of the upper sheet.</p> + +<p>"Rebecca!"</p> + +<p>The second call was a little louder than the first, +and there was a queer half-sobbing, half-laughing +catch in the speaker's voice that commanded attention.</p> + +<p>Rebecca looked up.</p> + +<p>Phœbe was still sitting on the floor beside her +trunk, but the trunk was open now and the young<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +woman's rosy face was peering with a pathetic smile +over a—what!—could it be!</p> + +<p>Rebecca leaned forward in amazement.</p> + +<p>Yes, it was! In Phœbe's outstretched hands was +the dearest possible little baby's undergarment—all +of cambric, with narrow ribbons at the neck.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds the two sisters looked at each +other over this unexpected barrier. Then Phœbe's +lips quivered into a pathetic curve and she buried +her face in the little garment, laughing and crying +at once.</p> + +<p>Rebecca dropped helplessly into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Martin Wise!" she exclaimed. "Do you +mean—hev you brought——?"</p> + +<p>She fell silent, and then, darting at her sister, she +took her head in her hands and deposited a sudden +kiss on the smooth bright gold-brown hair and +whisked out of Phœbe's room and into her own.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Copernicus was too deeply absorbed +in his calculations to notice these comings and +goings. Apparently he had been led into the most +abstruse mathematical regions. Nothing short of +the triple integration of transcendental functions +should have been adequate to produce those lines +of anxious care in his face as he slowly covered sheet +after sheet with figures.</p> + +<p>He was at length startled from his preoccupation +by a gentle voice at his side.</p> + +<p>"Can't I help, Mr. Droop?"</p> + +<p>It was Phœbe, who, having made all right in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +room and washed all traces of tears from her face, +had come to note Droop's progress.</p> + +<p>Dazed, he raised his head and looked unexpectedly +into a lovely face made the more attractive by +an expression only given by a sense of duty unselfishly +done.</p> + +<p>"I—I wish'd you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," +he said for the fifth time.</p> + +<p>She picked up one of the sheets on which he had +been scribbling as though she had not heard him, +and said:</p> + +<p>"Why, dear me! How comes it you have so much +figurin' to do?"</p> + +<p>"Well," he began, in a querulous tone, "it beats +all creation how many things a feller has to work +out at once! Ye see, I've got a rope forty foot long +that's got to tie the Panchronicon to the North Pole +while we swing 'round to cut meridians. Now, then, +the question is, How many times an hour shall we +swing 'round to get to 1892, an' how long's it goin' +to take an' how fast must I make the old thing hum +along?"</p> + +<p>"But you said eighteen hours by the clock would +do it."</p> + +<p>"Well, I jest guessed at that by the time the future +man an' I took to go back five weeks, ye know. +But I can't seem to figur it out right."</p> + +<p>Phœbe seated herself at the table and took up a +blank sheet of paper.</p> + +<p>"Please lend me your pencil," she said. "Now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +then, every time you whirl once 'round the pole to +westward you lose one day, don't you?"</p> + +<p>"That's it," said Droop, cheerfully. "Cuttin' +twenty-four meridians——"</p> + +<p>"And how many days in twenty-two years?" Phœbe +broke in.</p> + +<p>"You mean in six years."</p> + +<p>"Why, no," she replied, glancing at Droop with +a mischievous smile, "it's twenty-two years back to +1876, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"To '76—why, but——"</p> + +<p>He caught sight of her face and stopped short.</p> + +<p>There came a pleased voice from one of the state-rooms.</p> + +<p>"Yes, we've decided to go all the way back, Mr. +Droop."</p> + +<p>It was Rebecca.</p> + +<p>She came forward and stood beside her sister, +placing one hand affectionately upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>Droop leaned back in his chair with both hands +on the edge of the table.</p> + +<p>"Goin' all the way! Why, but then——"</p> + +<p>He leaped to his feet with a radiant face.</p> + +<p>"Great Jumpin' Jerusha!" he cried.</p> + +<p>Slapping his thigh he began to pace excitedly up +and down.</p> + +<p>"Why, then, we'll get all the big inventions out—kodak +an' phonograph and all. We'll marry Joe +Chandler an' set things agoin' in two shakes fer millions."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Eight thousand and thirty-five," said Phœbe in +a quiet voice, putting her pencil to her lips. "We'll +have to whirl round the pole eight thousand and +thirty-five times."</p> + +<p>"Whose goin' to keep count?" asked Rebecca, +cheerfully. Ah, how different it all seemed now! +Every dry detail was of interest.</p> + +<p>Phœbe looked up at Droop, who now resumed his +seat, somewhat sobered.</p> + +<p>"Don't have to keep count," he replied. "See +that indicator?" he continued, pointing to a dial in +the ceiling which had not been noticed before. "That +reads May 3, 1898, now, don't it? Well, it's fixed +to keep always tellin' the right date. It counts the +whirls we make an' keeps tabs on every day we go +backward. Any time all ye hev to do is to read that +thing an' it'll tell ye jest what day 'tis."</p> + +<p>"Then what do you want to calculate how often +to whirl round?" asked Phœbe, in disgusted tones.</p> + +<p>"Well, ye see I want to plan out how long it'll +take," Droop replied. "I want to go slow so as to +avoid side weight—but I don't want to go too slow."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Phœbe. "Well, then, how many +times a minute did the future man take you when +you whirled back five weeks?"</p> + +<p>"'Bout two times a minute."</p> + +<p>"That's one hundred and twenty times every hour. +Did you feel much side weight then?"</p> + +<p>"Scarcely any."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's see. Divide eight thousand and thir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>ty-five +whirls by one hundred and twenty, an' you +get sixty-seven hours. So that, ef we go at that rate +it'll be two days and nineteen hours 'fore we get +back to 1876."</p> + +<p>"Don't talk about days," Droop objected. "It's +sixty-seven hours by the clock—but it's twenty-two +years less than no time in days, ye know."</p> + +<p>"Sixty-seven hours," said Phœbe. "Well, that +ain't so bad, is it? Why not go round twice a minute?"</p> + +<p>"We can't air our beds fer three days, Phœbe," +said Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"But if we go much faster, we'll all be sick with +this side weight trouble that Mr. Droop tells +about."</p> + +<p>"I vote fer twice a minute," said Droop. And so +twice a minute was adopted.</p> + +<p>"Air ye goin' to start to-night, Mr. Droop?" asked +Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"Well, no," he replied. "I think it's best to wait +till to-morrow. Ye see, the power that runs the +Panchronicon is got out o' the sunlight that falls on +it. Of course, we're not all run out o' power by a +good lot, but we've used considerable, an' I think +it's a little mite safer to lie still fer a few hours here +an' take in power from the sun. Ye see, it'll shine +steady on us all night, an' we'll store up enough +power to be sure o' reachin' 1876 in one clip."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Rebecca, "ef thet's the plan, I'm goin' +to bed right now. It's after eight o'clock, an' I didn't<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +get to sleep las' night till goodness knows when. +Good-night! Hedn't you better go, too, Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>"I guess I will," said Phœbe, turning to Copernicus. +"Good-night, Mr. Droop."</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Cousin Phœbe—good-night, Cousin +Rebecca. I'll go to bed myself, I b'lieve."</p> + +<p>The two doors were closed and Droop proceeded +to draw the steel shutters in order to produce artificially +the gloom not vouchsafed by a too-persistent +sun.</p> + +<p>In half an hour all were asleep within the now +motionless conveyance.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">DROOP'S THEORY IN PRACTICE</h3> + + +<p>All were up betimes when the faithful clock announced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +that it ought to be morning. As for the +sun, as though resenting the liberties about to be +taken by these adventurers with its normal functions, +it refused to set, and was found by the three travellers +at the same altitude as the night before.</p> + +<p>Promptly after breakfast Droop proceeded to don +a suit of furs which he drew from a cupboard within +the engine-room.</p> + +<p>"Ye'd better hev suthin' hot ready when I come in +again," he said. "I 'xpect I'll be nigh froze to death."</p> + +<p>He drew on a huge cap of bear's fur which extended +from his crown to his shoulders. There was +a small hole in front which exposed only his nose +and eyes.</p> + +<p>"My, but you do look just like a pictur of Kris +Kringle!" laughed Phœbe. "Don't he, Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca came to the kitchen door wiping a dish +with slow circular movements of her towel.</p> + +<p>"I don't guess you'll freeze very much with all +that on," she remarked.</p> + +<p>"Thet shows you don't know what seventy or eighty +below zero means," said a muffled voice from within +the fur cap. "You'll hev suthin' hot, won't ye?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +Droop continued, looking appealingly at Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"The'll be a pot o' good hot tea," she said. "That'll +warm you all right."</p> + +<p>Droop thought of something more stimulating and +fragrant, but said nothing as he returned to the cupboard. +Here he drew forth an apparently endless +piece of stout rope. This he wound in a thick coil +and hung over his head.</p> + +<p>"Now, then," he said, "when I get down you shet +the door at the top of the stairs tight, coz jest's soon's +I open the outside door, thet hall's goin' to freeze +up solid."</p> + +<p>"All right!" said Phœbe. "I'll see to it."</p> + +<p>Droop descended the stairs with a heavy tread, +and as he reached the foot Phœbe closed the upper +door, which she now noticed was provided with +weather-strips.</p> + +<p>Then the two women stood at the windows on the +right-hand side of the vessel and watched Droop as +he walked toward the pole. He raised the huge iron +ring, snapping over it a special coupling hook fixed +to the end of the rope.</p> + +<p>Then he backed toward the vessel, unrolling the +coil of rope as he moved away from the pole. Evidently +they were within the forty-foot limit from +the pole, for Droop had some rope to spare when +he at length reached under the machine to attach +the end to a ring which the sisters could not see.</p> + +<p>He emerged from beneath the bulging side of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +vessel swinging his arms and blowing a mighty volume +of steam, which turned to snow as it left him. +As he made directly for the entrance again, Phœbe +ran to the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Poor man, he'll be perished!" she exclaimed.</p> + +<p>As Droop entered the room, bringing with him a +bitter atmosphere, Phœbe appeared with a large cup +of hot tea.</p> + +<p>"Here, Mr. Droop," she said, "drink this quick!"</p> + +<p>Copernicus pulled off his cap and sat down to drink +his tea without a word. When he had finished it, he +pulled back his chair with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"Whillikins! But 'twas cold!" he exclaimed. +"Seems mos' like heaven to get into a nice warm +room like this!"</p> + +<p>"An' did ye get every thin' done right?" Rebecca +asked.</p> + +<p>"I guess I did," he said, emphatically. "I don't +want to take no two bites out o' that kind o' cherry."</p> + +<p>He rose and proceeded to remove his fur coverings.</p> + +<p>"Goin' to start right now?" said Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"Might's well, I guess."</p> + +<p>He proceeded to the engine-room, followed by +Phœbe, who watched his actions with the greatest +interest.</p> + +<p>"What you doin' with that handle?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"That sets the airyplane on the uptilt. I'm only +settin' it a mite—jest 'nough to keep the machine +from sinkin' down when we get to movin'."</p> + +<p>"How are you goin' to lift us up?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Just let out a mite o' gas below," said Droop. +He suited the action to the word, and, with a tremendous +hissing beneath it, the vessel rose slowly.</p> + +<p>Droop pulled the starting lever and they moved +forward with increasing speed. When they had gathered +way, he shut off the gas escape and carefully +readjusted the aeroplanes until the machine as a +whole moved horizontally.</p> + +<p>There was felt a slight jerk as they reached the +end of the rope, and then they began to move in a +circle from east to west.</p> + +<p>Phœbe glanced at the clock.</p> + +<p>"Just five minutes past eight," she said.</p> + +<p>The sun was pouring its beams into the right-hand +windows when they started, but the shafts of light +now began to sweep circularly across the floor, and +in a few moments, as they faced the sun, it ceased +to shine in from the right. Immediately afterward +it shone in at the left-hand windows and circled slowly +around until again they were in shadow with the +sun behind them.</p> + +<p>Droop took out his watch and timed their revolutions +by the sun's progress from window to window.</p> + +<p>"'Bout one to the minute," he remarked. "Guess +I'll speed her up a mite."</p> + +<p>Carefully he regulated the speed, timing their +revolutions accurately.</p> + +<p>"There!" he said at length. "I guess that's pretty +nigh two to the minute. D'ye feel any side weight?" +he said, addressing his companions.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," said Rebecca.</p> + +<p>Phœbe shook her head.</p> + +<p>"You manage right well, Mr. Droop," she said. +"You must have practised a good deal."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not much," he replied, greatly pleased. "The +future man showed me how to work it three—four +times. It's simple 'nough when ye understand the +principles."</p> + +<p>These remarks brought a new idea to Rebecca's +mind.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mr. Droop," she exclaimed, "whatever's the +use o' you goin' back to 1876! Why don't ye jest +set up as the inventor o' this machine? I'm sure +thet ought to make yer everlastin' fortune!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I thought o' that," he said. "But it's one +thing to know how to work a thing an' it's a sight +different to know how it's made an' all that. The +future man tried to explain all the new scientific +principles that was mixed into it—fer makin' power +an' all—but I couldn't understand that part at +all."</p> + +<p>"An' besides," exclaimed Phœbe, "it's a heap more +fun to be the only ones can use the thing, I think."</p> + +<p>"Yes—seems like fun's all we're thinkin' of," said +Rebecca, rising and moving toward the kitchen. +"We're jest settin' round doin' nothin'. I'll finish +with the breakfast things if you'll put to rights and +dust, Phœbe. We can't make beds till night with +the windows tight shut."</p> + +<p>These suggestions were followed by the two wom<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>en, +while Droop, picking up the newspaper which +Rebecca had brought, sat down to read.</p> + +<p>After a long term of quiet reading, his attention +was distracted by Rebecca's voice.</p> + +<p>"I declare to goodness, Phœbe!" she was saying. +"Seems's if every chance you get, you go to readin' +those old letters."</p> + +<p>"Well, the's one or two that's spelled so funny and +written so badly that I haven't been able yet to read +them," Phœbe replied.</p> + +<p>Droop looked over his paper. Phœbe and her sister +were seated near one of the windows on the opposite +side.</p> + +<p>"P'raps I could help ye, Cousin Phœbe," he said. +"I've got mighty strong eyesight."</p> + +<p>"Oh, 'tain't a question of eyesight," Phœbe replied, +laughing.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see," said Droop, smiling slyly, "letters +from some young feller, eh?"</p> + +<p>He winked knowingly at Rebecca, who drew herself +up indignantly and looked severely down at her +knitting.</p> + +<p>Phœbe blushed, but replied quite calmly:</p> + +<p>"Yes—some of them from a young man, but they +weren't any of them written to me."</p> + +<p>"No?" said Droop. "Who was they to—'f I may +ask?"</p> + +<p>"They were all written to this lady."</p> + +<p>Phœbe held something out for Droop's inspection, +and he walked over to take it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>He recognized at once the miniature on ivory +which he had seen once before in Peltonville.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, taking the portrait from her and +eying it with his head on one side, "if ye hadn't said +'twasn't you, I'd certainly a-thought 'twas. I'd mos' +sworn 'twas your photygraph, Cousin Phœbe. Who +is it, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"It isn't anybody," she replied, "but it <i>was</i> Mistress +Mary Burton of Burton Hall. I'm one of her +descendants, an' these are some letters she had with +her in this funny old carved box when she disappeared +with her lover. They fled to Holland and +were married there, the story goes, an' one o' their +children came over in the early days o' New England. +He brought the letters an' the picture with him."</p> + +<p>"Well, now! I want to know!" exclaimed Droop, +in great admiration. "'Twouldn't be perlite, I +s'pose, to ask to hear some o' them letters?"</p> + +<p>"Would you like to hear some of them?" Phœbe +asked.</p> + +<p>"I would fer a fact," he replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, bring your chair over here and I'll read +you one," she said.</p> + +<p>Droop seated himself near the two sisters and +Phœbe unfolded a large and rather rough sheet of +paper, yellow with age, on which Droop perceived +a bold scrawl in a faded ink.</p> + +<p>"This seems to have been from Mary Burton's +father," Phœbe said. "I don't think he can have +been a very nice man. This is what he says:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Dear Poll'—horrid nickname, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Seems so to me," said Droop.</p> + +<p>"'Dear Poll—I'm starting behind the grays for +London, on my way, as you know ere this, to be +knighted by her Majesty. I send this ahead by Gregory +on Bess—she being fast enow for my purpose—which +is to get thee straight out of the grip of +that'——"</p> + +<p>Phœbe hesitated.</p> + +<p>"He uses a bad word there," she said, in a low +tone. "I'll go on and leave that out."</p> + +<p>"Yes, do," said Droop.</p> + +<p>"'That —— aunt of thine,'" she continued, reading. +"'I know her tricks and I learn how she hath +suffered that'——"</p> + +<p>"There's another," said Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"Skip it," said Droop, gravely.</p> + +<p>"'That —— milk-and-water popinjay to come +courting my Poll. So see you follow Gregory, mistress, +and without wait or parley come with him to +the Peacock Inn, where I lie to-night. The grays +are in fine fettle and thy black mare grows too fat +for want of exercise. Thy mother-in-law commands +thy instant return with Gregory, having much business +forward with preparing gowns and fallals against +our presentation to her Majesty.'"</p> + +<p>"It is signed 'Isaac Burton,'" said Phœbe, "and +see, the paper was sealed with a steel gauntlet."</p> + +<p>Droop examined the seal carefully and then returned +it, saying:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Looks to me like a bunch of 'sparagus tumbled +over on one side."</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed.</p> + +<p>"But what always interests me most in this letter +is the postscript," she said. "It reads: 'Thy mother +thinks thou wilt make better speed if I make thee +to know that the players thou wottest of'——"</p> + +<p>"What's a 'wottest'?" said Droop, in puzzled +tones.</p> + +<p>"Wottest means knowest—haven't you read +Shakespeare?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Droop.</p> + +<p>"'The players thou wottest of are to stop at the +Peacock, and will be giving some sport there.'</p> + +<p>"Now, those players always interest me," Phœbe +continued. "Somehow I can't help but believe that +William Shakespeare——"</p> + +<p>"Fiddle ends!" Rebecca interrupted. "I've heard +that talk fifty-leven times an' I'm pinin' fer relief. +Mr. Droop, would you mind tellin' us what the time +o' year is now. Seems to me that sun has whirled +in an' out o' that window 'nough times to bring us +back to the days o' creation."</p> + +<p>Droop consulted the date indicator and announced +that it was now September 5, 1897.</p> + +<p>"Not a year yet!" cried the two women together.</p> + +<p>"Why, no," said Copernicus. "Ye see, we are +takin' about three hours to lose a year."</p> + +<p>"Fer the lands sakes!" cried Rebecca. "Can't we +go a little faster?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My gracious, yes!" said Droop. "But I'm 'fraid +o' the side weight fer ye."</p> + +<p>"I'd rather hev side weight than wait forever," +said Rebecca, with a grim smile.</p> + +<p>"D'ye think ye could stand a little more speed, +Cousin Phœbe?" said Droop.</p> + +<p>"We might try," she replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, let's try, then," he said, and turned promptly +to the engine-room.</p> + +<p>Very soon the difference in speed was felt, and +as they found themselves travelling more rapidly in +a circle, the centrifugal force now became distinctly +perceptible.</p> + +<p>The two women found themselves obliged to lean +somewhat toward the central pole to counteract this +tendency, and as Copernicus emerged from the engine-room +he came toward the others at a decided +angle to the floor.</p> + +<p>"There! now ye feel the side weight," he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"My, ain't it funny!" exclaimed Rebecca. "Thet's +the way I've felt afore now when the cars was goin' +round a curve—kinder topplin' like."</p> + +<p>"Why, that is the centrifugal force," Phœbe said, +with dignity.</p> + +<p>"It's the side weight—that's what I call it," Droop +replied, obstinately, and for some time there was +silence.</p> + +<p>"How many years back are we makin' by the hour +now, Mr. Droop?" Rebecca asked at length.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jest a little over two hours fer a year now," he +replied.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Rebecca, in a discontented tone, "I +think the old Panchronicle is rayther a slow actin' +concern, considerin' th' amount o' side weight it +makes. I declare I'm mos' tired out leanin' over to +one side, like old man Titus's paralytic cow."</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed and Droop replied:</p> + +<p>"If ye can't stand it or set it, why lay, Cousin +Rebecca. The's good settles all 'round."</p> + +<p>With manifestly injured feelings Droop hunted +up a book and sat down to read in silence. The +Panchronicon was his pet and he did not relish its +being thus contemned.</p> + +<p>The remainder of the morning was spent in almost +completely silent work or reading. Droop scarce +took his eyes from his book. Phœbe spent part of +the time deep in the Baconian work and part of the +time contemplating the monotonous landscape. Rebecca +was dreaming of her future past—or her past +future, while her knitting grew steadily upon its +needles.</p> + +<p>The midday meal was duly prepared and disposed +of, and, as the afternoon wore away, the three travellers +began to examine the date indicator and to ask +themselves surreptitiously whether or not they actually +felt any younger. They took sly peeps at each +other's faces to observe, if possible, any signs of returning +youth.</p> + +<p>By supper-time there was certainly a less aged air<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +about each of the three and the elders inwardly congratulated +themselves upon the unmistakable effects +of another twelve hours.</p> + +<p>Not long after the supper dishes had been washed, +Rebecca took Phœbe aside and said:</p> + +<p>"Phœbe, it seems to me you'd ought to be goin' +to bed right soon, now. You're only 'bout eighteen +years old at present, an' you'll certainly begin to +grow smaller again very soon. It wouldn't hardly +be respectable fer ye to do yer shrinkin' out here."</p> + +<p>This view of the probabilities had not yet struck +Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"Why, no!" she exclaimed, rather startled. "I—I +don't know's I thought about it. But I certainly +don't want Mr. Droop to see me when my clothes +begin to hang loose."</p> + +<p>Then a new problem presented itself.</p> + +<p>"Come to think of it, Rebecca," she said, dolefully, +"what'll I do all the time between full-grown and +baby size? I didn't bring anything but the littlest +clothes, you know."</p> + +<p>"Thet's so," said Rebecca, thoughtfully. Then, +after a pause: "I don't see but ye'll hev to stay abed, +Phœbe, till we get to th' end," she said, sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"There it is," said Phœbe, crossly. "Gettin' sent +to bed a'ready—even before I expected it."</p> + +<p>"But 'tain't that, Phœbe," said Rebecca, with great +concern. "I ain't sendin' ye to bed—but—but—whatever +else <i>can</i> ye do with a <i>man</i> in the house!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothin'," Phœbe replied, with a toss of her chin.</p> + +<p>She crossed the room and held out her hand to +Droop.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, Mr. Droop," she said.</p> + +<p>Surprised at this sudden demonstration of friendship, +he took her hand and tipped his head to one +side as he looked into her face.</p> + +<p>"Next time you see me, I don't suppose you'll know +me, I'll be so little," she said, trying to laugh.</p> + +<p>"I—I wish't you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," +he said, coaxingly.</p> + +<p>"Well, p'raps I will when I see ye again," she replied, +freeing her hand with a slight effort.</p> + +<p>Rebecca retired shortly after her sister and Copernicus +was once more left alone. He rubbed his hands +slowly, with a sense of satisfaction, and glanced at +the date dial.</p> + +<p>"July 2, 1892," he said to himself. "I'm only thirty-four +years old. Don't feel any older than that, +either."</p> + +<p>He walked deliberately to the shutters, closed +them and turned on the electric light. Surrounded +thus by the wonted conditions of night, it was not +long before he began to yawn. He removed his coat +and shoes and lay back in an easy chair to meditate +at ease. He faced toward the pole so that the "side +weight" would tend to press him gently backward +into his chair and therefore not annoy him by calling +for constant opposing effort.</p> + +<p>He soon dozed off and was whisked through a quick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +succession of fantastic dreams. Then he awoke suddenly, +and as though someone had spoken to him. +Listening intently, he only heard the low murmur +of the machinery below and the ticking of the many +clocks and indicators all about him.</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes, intending to take up that last +dream where he had been interrupted. He recollected +that he had been on the very point of some +delightful consummation, but just what it was he +could not recall.</p> + +<p>Sleep evaded him, however. His mind reverted +to the all-important question of the recovered years. +He began to plan again.</p> + +<p>This time he should not make his former mistakes. +No—he would not only make immense wealth +promptly with the great inventions, he would give +up liquor forever. It would be so easy in 1876, for +he had never taken up the unfortunate habit until +1888.</p> + +<p>Then—rich, young, sober, he would seek out a +charming, rosy, good-natured girl—something of the +type of Phœbe, for instance. They would be married +and——</p> + +<p>He got up at this and looked at the clock. It was +after midnight. He looked at the date indicator. +It said October 9, 1890.</p> + +<p>"Well, come!" he thought. "The old Panchronicon +is a steady vessel. She's keepin' right on."</p> + +<p>He put on his shoes again, for something made him +nervous and he wished to walk up and down.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>The first thing he did after his shoes were donned +was to gaze at himself in the mirror.</p> + +<p>"Don't look any younger," he thought, "but I feel +so." He walked across the room once or twice.</p> + +<p>"Shucks!" he exclaimed. "Couldn't expect to look +younger in these old duds, an' at this time o' night, +too—tired like I am."</p> + +<p>For some time he walked up and down, keeping +his eyes resolutely from the date indicator. Finally +he threw himself down in the chair again and closed +his eyes, nervous and exhausted. He did not feel +sleepy, but he must have dozed, for the next time +he looked at the clock it was half-past one.</p> + +<p>He put out the light and crossed to a settle. Here +he lay at full length courting sleep. When he awoke, +he thought, refreshed and alert, he would show his +youth unmistakably.</p> + +<p>But sleep would not return. He tried every position, +every trick for propitiating Morpheus. All in +vain.</p> + +<p>At length he rose again and turned on the light. +It was two-fifteen. This time he could not resist +looking at the date indicator.</p> + +<p>It said September 30, 1889.</p> + +<p>Again he looked into the glass.</p> + +<p>"My, but I'm nervous!" he thought as he turned +away, disappointed. "I look older than ever!"</p> + +<p>As he paced the floor there all alone, he began to +doubt for the first time the success of his plan.</p> + +<p>"It <i>must</i> work right!" he said aloud. "Didn't I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> +go back five weeks with that future man? Didn't +he——"</p> + +<p>A fearful thought struck him. Had he perhaps +made a mistake? Had they been cutting meridians +the wrong way?</p> + +<p>But no; the indicator could not be wrong, and that +registered a constantly earlier date.</p> + +<p>"Ah, I know!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I'll ask +Cousin Phœbe."</p> + +<p>He reflected a moment. Yes—the idea was a good +one. She would be only fifteen years old by this +time, and must certainly have changed to an extent +of which he was at his age incapable. Besides, she +had been asleep, and nervous insomnia could not be +responsible for retarding the evidences of youth in +her case. His agony of dread lest this great experiment +fail made him bold.</p> + +<p>He walked directly to Phœbe's door and knocked—first +softly, then more loudly.</p> + +<p>"Cousin Phœbe—Cousin Phœbe," he said.</p> + +<p>After a few calls and knockings, there came a +sleepy reply from within.</p> + +<p>"Well—what—who is it?"</p> + +<p>"It's Cousin Copernicus," he said. "Please tell +me. Hev ye shrunk any yet?"</p> + +<p>"What—how?" The tones were very sleepy indeed.</p> + +<p>"Hev ye shrunk any yet? Are ye growin' littler +in there? Oh, please feel fer the footboard with +yer toe!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p>He waited and heard a rustling as of someone +moving in bed.</p> + +<p>"Did ye feel the footboard?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes—kicked it good—now let me sleep." She +was ill-natured with much drowsiness.</p> + +<p>Poor Droop staggered away from the door as +though he had been struck.</p> + +<p>All had failed, then. They were circling uselessly. +Those inventions would never be his. The golden +dreams he had been nursing—oh, impossible! It was +unbearable!</p> + +<p>He put both hands to his head and walked across +the room. He paused half-consciously before a small +closet partly hidden in the wall.</p> + +<p>With an instinctive movement, he touched a spring +and the door slid back. He drew from the cupboard +thus revealed two bottles and a glass and returned +to seat himself at the table.</p> + +<p>A half an hour later the Panchronicon, circling +in the outer brightness and silence, contained three +unconscious travellers, and one of them sat with his +arms flung across the table supporting his head, and +beside him an empty bottle.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">SHIPWRECKED ON THE SANDS OF TIME</h3> + + +<p>Rebecca was the first of the three to waken. Over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +her small window she had hung a black shawl to keep +out the light, and upon this screen were thrown recurrent +flashes of sunlight.</p> + +<p>"Still a-swingin'," she murmured. "Wonder how +fur back we be now!"</p> + +<p>She was herself surprised at the eagerness she felt +to observe at last the results of their extraordinary +attempt.</p> + +<p>She rose quickly and was very soon ready to leave +her room. She was longing to see Phœbe—Phœbe +as she had been when a girl.</p> + +<p>Opening her door, she was astonished to find the +lamps of the main room aglow and to see Copernicus +in his shirt-sleeves, asleep with his head on the table.</p> + +<p>As she stepped out of her own room, her senses +were offended by the odor of alcohol. With horror +she realized that rum, the spirit of all the sources of +evil, had found its way into their abode.</p> + +<p>She entertained so violent a repugnance for liquors +and for men under their influence that she could not +bring herself to approach Copernicus.</p> + +<p>"He's gone an' got drunk again," she muttered, +glaring with helpless anger at the bottles and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +at him.</p> + +<p>"Mister Droop! Copernicus Droop!" she cried in +a high, sharp voice.</p> + +<p>There was no reply.</p> + +<p>She looked about her for something to prod him +with. There was an arm-chair on casters beside her +door. She drew this to her and pushed it with all +her might toward the unconscious man.</p> + +<p>The chair struck violently against Droop's seat, +and even caused his body to sway slightly, but he +still slept and gave no sign.</p> + +<p>"That settles it!" she exclaimed, with mingled disgust +and alarm in her face.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>It was Phœbe who called.</p> + +<p>"It's me," said Rebecca. "Can I come in?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Rebecca walked into Phœbe's room, which she +found darkened like her own. Her sister was in bed.</p> + +<p>"What ever happened to you?" Phœbe asked. +"Sounded as though ye'd fallen down or somethin'."</p> + +<p>Rebecca stood stiffly with her back to the closed +door, her hands folded before her.</p> + +<p>"Copernicus Droop is tight! Dead drunk!" she +exclaimed, with a shaking voice.</p> + +<p>"Drunk!" cried Phœbe. "Lands sakes!—an'—" +She looked about her with alarm. "Then what's happened +to the machine?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Whirlin', whirlin', same as ever! Cuttin' merid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>ians +or sausage meat fer all I care. I jest wish to +goodness an' all creation I'd never ben sech a plumb +born nateral fool as to—oh, wouldn't I like to jest +<i>shake</i> that man!" she broke out, letting her anger +gain the upper hand.</p> + +<p>Then Phœbe recalled their situation and their expectations +of the night before.</p> + +<p>"Why, then I ought to be gettin' little pretty fast," +she said, feeling her arms. "I don't see's I've shrunk +a mite, hev I?"</p> + +<p>"No more'n I hev!" Rebecca exclaimed, hotly. +"Nor you won't, nuther. Ye might jest's well make +up yer mind to it thet the whole business is foolish +folderols. We're a nice couple o' geese, we are, to +come out here to play 'Here we go round the mulberry +bush' with the North Pole—an' all along of +a shif'less, notorious slave o' rum!"</p> + +<p>She plumped herself into a chair and glared at +the darkened window as though fascinated by those +ever-returning flashes of sunlight.</p> + +<p>"Well—well—well!" murmured Phœbe.</p> + +<p>She was much disappointed, and yet somehow she +could not avoid a certain pleasure in the thought +that at least there was no fear of a return to childhood.</p> + +<p>"But what're we goin' to do?" she asked at length. +"If Mr. Droop's so tight he can't manage the machine, +what'll we do. Here we are tied up to the +North Pole——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, drat the old Panchronicon!" cried Rebecca.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then rising in her wrath, she continued with energy: +"The's one thing I'm goin' to do right this blessed +minute. I'm goin' to draw a hull bucket o' cold +water an' throw it over that mis'able critter in there! +Think o' him sleepin' on the table—the table as we +eat our victuals on!"</p> + +<p>"No—no. Don't try to wake him up first!" cried +Phœbe. "Let's have breakfast—we can have it in +the kitchen—an' then you can douse him afterward. +Just think of the wipin' an' cleanin' we'll have to do +after it. We'll be starved if we wait breakfast for +all that ruction!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca reflected a moment. Then:</p> + +<p>"I guess ye're right, Phœbe," she said. "My, won't +that carpet look a sight! I'll go right an' fix up somethin' +to eat, though goodness knows, I'm not hungry."</p> + +<p>She left Phœbe to dress and made a wide circuit +to avoid even approaching the table on her way to +the kitchen. Not long afterward she was followed +by her sister, who took a similar roundabout path, +for Phœbe was quite as much in horror of drink and +drinkers as Rebecca.</p> + +<p>She glanced at the date indicator as she passed it.</p> + +<p>"My sakes!" she said, as she entered the kitchen, +"it's March 25, 1887. Why, then's the time that I +had the measles so bad. Don't you remember when +I was thirteen years old an' Dr. ——"</p> + +<p>Rebecca broke in with a snort.</p> + +<p>"Eighty-seven grandmothers!" she exclaimed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +"Don't you get to frettin' 'bout gettin' the measles +or anything else, Phœbe—only sof'nin' of the brain—I +guess we've both got that right bad!"</p> + +<p>"I don't know 'bout that," Phœbe replied, as she +began to set the small table for two. "I believe we're +gettin' back, after all, Rebecca. The's one thing sure. +Everybody knows that ye lose a day every time you +go round the world once from east to west, an' I'm +sure we've gone round often enough to lose years. +I believe that indicator's all right."</p> + +<p>"We've not ben goin' round the world, though," +Rebecca replied. "That's the p'int. This old iron +clothes-pole out here ain't the hull world, I can tell +ye!"</p> + +<p>"Well, but all the meridians——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother yer meridians! I ain't seen one o' +the things yet—nor you hevn't, either, Phœbe +Wise!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe was not convinced. It seemed not at all +unreasonable, after all, that they should lose time +without undergoing any physical change. She concluded +to argue the matter no further, however.</p> + +<p>Their meal was eaten in silence. As they rose to +clear the table, Phœbe said:</p> + +<p>"Th' ain't any use of goin' back to 1876 now, is +there, Rebecca. Though I do s'pose it won't make +any difference to Mr. Droop. He can bring out his +inventions an'——"</p> + +<p>"Not with my money, or Joe Chandler's, either," +Rebecca declared, firmly. "Not as Joe'd ask me to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +marry him now. He'd as soon think o' marryin' his +grandmother."</p> + +<p>"Then what's the use o' goin' back any further. +We might's well stop the machine right now, so's +not to have so many more turns to wind up again."</p> + +<p>"Fiddlesticks!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Don't you +fret about that! Don't I tell ye it's folderol! +Tell ye what ye can do, though. Open them shutters +out there an' let in some sunlight. I've more'n +half a mind to open a window, too. Thet smell o' +rum in there makes me sick."</p> + +<p>"We'd freeze to death in a minute if we tried it," +said Phœbe, as she entered the main room.</p> + +<p>She went to each of the four windows and opened +all the shutters, avoiding in the meantime even a +glance at the middle of the room. She did not forget +the date indicator, however.</p> + +<p>"Merry Christmas!" she cried, with a little laugh. +"It's Christmas-day, 1886, Rebecca."</p> + +<p>The engine-room door was open. Perhaps it was +a sign of her returning youth, but the fact is her +fingers itched to get at those bright, tempting brass +and steel handles. Droop had explained their uses +and she felt sure she could manage the machinery. +What a delightful thing it would be to feel the Panchronicon +obeying her hand!</p> + +<p>"Really, Rebecca," she exclaimed, "if we're not +going back to '76 after all, I think it's a dreadful +waste of time for us to be throwin' away six months +every hour this way."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Twon't be long," Rebecca replied, as she turned +the hot water into her dishpan. "You come in here +an' help wash these dishes, an' ef I don't soon wake +up that mis'able—" She did not trust herself further, +but tightly compressed her lips and confined +her rising choler.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rebecca Wise," said Phœbe, "you know +it will be hours before that man's got sense enough +to run this machine. I'm goin' to stop it myself, +right now."</p> + +<p>Rebecca had just taken a hot plate from her pan, +but she paused ere setting it down, alarmed at Phœbe's +temerity.</p> + +<p>"Don't you dast to dream o' sech a thing, Phœbe!" +she cried, with frightened earnestness.</p> + +<p>But Phœbe was confident, and crossed the threshold +with a little laugh.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rebecca, what you scared of?" she said. +"It's just as easy as that—see!"</p> + +<p>She pulled the starting lever.</p> + +<p>The next instant found her flying out into the +middle of the main room following Droop, the table, +and all the movable furniture. In the kitchen there +was a wild scream and a crash of crockery as Rebecca +was thrown against the rear partition.</p> + +<p>Phœbe had pulled the lever the wrong way and +the Panchronicon was swiftly reaching full speed.</p> + +<p>"Heavens and airth!" cried Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"Whatever in gracious—" began the dismayed +Phœbe.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> + +<p>She broke off in renewed terror as she found herself +pushed by an irresistible force to the side of the +room.</p> + +<p>"Here—here!" she heard from the kitchen. +"What's this a-pullin'? Land o' promise, Phœbe, +come quick! I've got a stroke!"</p> + +<p>"I can't come!" wailed Phœbe. "I'm jammed tight +up against the wall. It's as though I was nailed +to it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, why—why did ye touch that machinery!" +cried Rebecca, and then said no more.</p> + +<p>The speed indicator pointed to one hundred and +seventy-five miles an hour. They were making one +revolution around the pole each second—and they +were helpless.</p> + +<p>As she found herself pushed outward by the immensely +increased centrifugal force, Phœbe found it +possible to seat herself upon one of the settles, and +she now sat with her back pressed firmly against the +south wall of the room, only able by a strong effort +to raise her head.</p> + +<p>She turned to the right and found that Droop had +found a couch on the floor under the table and chairs +at the rear of the room, also against the south wall.</p> + +<p>In the kitchen Rebecca had crouched down as she +found herself forced outward, and she now sat dazed +on the kitchen floor surrounded by the fragments +of their breakfast all glued to the wall as tightly +as herself.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear—oh, dear!" she cried, closing her eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +"Copernicus Droop said that side weight would be +terrible if we travelled too fast. Why, I'm so heavy +sideways I feel like as if I weighed 497½ pounds like +that fat woman in the circus down to Keene."</p> + +<p>"So do I," Phœbe said, "only I'm so dizzy, too, I +can hardly think."</p> + +<p>"Shet your eyes, like me," said Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"I would only I can't keep 'em off the North Pole +there," said Phœbe, as she gazed fascinated through +the north window opposite.</p> + +<p>"Why, what's the matter with the child!" Rebecca +exclaimed, in alarm. "Air ye struck silly, Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>"No, but I guess you'd want to watch it too if you +could see that ring we're tied to spinnin' round right +close to the top of the pole. There—there!" she continued, +shrilly. "It'll fly right off in another minute! +There! Oh, dear!"</p> + +<p>Their attachment did indeed appear precarious. +The increased speed acting through the inclined aeroplane +had caused the vessel to rise sharply, and the +rope had raised the ring by which it was attached +to the pole until it came in contact with the steel +ball at the top, when it could rise no farther. Here +the iron ring was grinding against and under the +retaining ball which alone prevented its slipping off +the top of the pole.</p> + +<p>"I don't see's we'd be any wuss off ef we did come +loose," said Rebecca, with eyes still closed. "At least +we wouldn't be gummed here ez tight's if the walls +was fly-paper."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, but we'd fly off at a tangent into infinite +space, Rebecca Wise," Phœbe said, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Where's that?" asked her sister. "I'll engage +'tain't any wuss place than the North Pole."</p> + +<p>"Why, it's off into the ether. There isn't any +air there or anythin'. An' they say it's fifty times +colder than the North Pole."</p> + +<p>"Who's ben there?"</p> + +<p>"Why, nobody—" Phœbe began.</p> + +<p>"Then let's drop it," snapped Rebecca. "Dr. Kane +said the' was an open sea at the North Pole—an' +I'm sick o' bein' told about places nobody's ever ben +to before."</p> + +<p>Phœbe was somewhat offended at this and there +was a long silence, during which she became more +reassured touching the danger of breaking away +from the Pole. Soon she, too, was able to shut +her eyes.</p> + +<p>The silence was broken by a meek voice from under +the table.</p> + +<p>"Would you mind settin' off my chist?" said Droop.</p> + +<p>There was no answer and he opened his eyes. His +bewilderment and surprise were intense when he discovered +his situation.</p> + +<p>Shutting his eyes again, he remarked:</p> + +<p>"What you flashin' that bright light in my eyes +so often for?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe gave vent to a gentle sniff of contempt.</p> + +<p>"My—my—my!" Droop continued, in meek +amazement. "I s'pose I must hev taken two whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +bottles. I never, never felt so heavy's this before! +What's the old Pan lyin' on it's side fer?"</p> + +<p>"'Tain't on its side," snapped Phœbe. "The old +thing's run away, Copernicus Droop, an' it's all your +fault." There was a quiver in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Run away!" said Droop, opening his eyes again. +"Where to?"</p> + +<p>"Nowheres—jest whirlin'. Only it's goin' a mile +a second, I do believe—an' it'll fly off the pole soon—an'—an' +we'll all be killed!" she cried, bursting +into tears.</p> + +<p>She dragged her hands with great difficulty to her +face against which she found them pressed with considerable +energy. Crying under these circumstances +was so very unusual and uncomfortable that she soon +gave it up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see! It's the side weight holds me here. +Where are you?"</p> + +<p>There was no reply, so he turned his head and +eyes this way and that until at length he spied Phœbe +on the settle, farther forward.</p> + +<p>"Am I under the table?" he said. "Where's Cousin +Rebecca? Was she pressed out through the wall?"</p> + +<p>"I'm out here in the kitchen, Copernicus Droop," +she cried. "I wish to goodness you'd ben pressed in +through the walls of the lock-up 'fore ever ye brought +me'n Phœbe into this mess. Ef you're a man or +half one, you'll go and stop this pesky old Panchronicle +an' give us a chance to move."</p> + +<p>"How can I go?" he cried, peevishly. "What the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +lands sakes did you go an' make the machine run +away for? Couldn't ye leave the machinery alone?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't touch your old machine!" cried Rebecca. +"Phœbe thought we'd be twisted back of our first +birthday ef the thing wasn't stopped, an' she pulled +the handle the wrong way, that's all!"</p> + +<p>Droop rolled his eyes about eagerly for a glimpse +of the date indicator.</p> + +<p>"What's the date, Cousin Phœbe?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"April 4, 1884—no, April 3d—2d—oh, dear, it's +goin' back so fast I can't tell ye the truth about it!"</p> + +<p>"Early in 1884," Droop repeated, in awe-struck +accents. "An' we're a-whirlin' off one day every +second—just about one year in six minutes. Great +Criminy crickets! When was you born, Cousin +Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>"Second of April, 1874."</p> + +<p>"Ten years. One year in six minutes—gives ye +jest one hour to live. Then you'll go out—bang!—like +a candle. I'll go next, and Cousin Rebecca +last."</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed Rebecca, angrily, "ef I can hev +the pleasure o' bein' rid o' you, Copernicus Droop, +it'll be cheap at the price—but the's no sech luck. +Ef you think ye can fool us any more with yer twaddle +'bout cuttin' meridians, ye're mistaken—that's +all I can say."</p> + +<p>Droop was making desperate efforts to climb along +the floor and reach the engine-room, but, although +by dint of gigantic struggles he managed to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +his way a few feet, he was then obliged to pause for +breath, whereupon he slid gently and ignominiously +back to his nook under the table.</p> + +<p>Here he found himself in contact with a corked +bottle. He looked at it and felt comforted. At least +he had access to forgetfulness whenever he pleased +to seek it.</p> + +<p>The two women found it wisest to lie quiet and +speak but little. The combined rotary movement +and sense of weight were nervously disturbing, and +for a long time no one of the three spoke. Only once +in the middle of the forenoon did Phœbe address +Droop.</p> + +<p>"Whatever will be the end o' this?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, we'll keep on whirlin' till the power gives +out," he replied. "Ye hevn't much time to live now, +hev ye?"</p> + +<p>With a throb of fear felt for the first time, Phœbe +looked at the indicator.</p> + +<p>"It's May, 1874," she said.</p> + +<p>"Jest a month—thirty seconds," he said, sadly.</p> + +<p>"Copernicus Droop, do you mean it?" screamed +Rebecca from the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"Unless the power gives out before then," he replied. +"I don't suppose ye want to make yer will, +do ye?"</p> + +<p>"Stuff!" said Phœbe, bravely, but her gaze was +fixed anxiously on the indicator, now fast approaching +the 2d of April.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear! 'F I could only see ye, Phœbe!" cried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +Rebecca. "I know he's a mis'able deceivin' man, but +if—if—oh, Phœbe, can't ye holler!"</p> + +<p>"It's April 8th—good-bye!" Phœbe said, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe—Phœbe!"</p> + +<p>"Hurray—hurray! It's March 31st, and here I +am!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe tried to clap her hands, but the effort was +in vain.</p> + +<p>"I allus said it was folderol," said Rebecca, sternly. +"Oh, but I'd like to throw somethin' at that Copernicus +Droop!"</p> + +<p>"Come to think of it," said Droop, "that future +man must hev come back long, long before his birthday."</p> + +<p>"Why didn't ye say that sooner?" cried Rebecca.</p> + +<p>There was no further conversation until long afterward, +when Rebecca suddenly remarked:</p> + +<p>"Aren't ye hungry, Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>"Why, it's gettin' along to dinner-time, ain't it?" +she replied. "I don't see, though, how I'm to get +any victuals, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Why, the's bread an' other scraps slammed up +against the wall here all round me," said Rebecca. +"Couldn't we fix some way to get some of 'em to ye?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe looked anxiously about and finally caught +sight of her sister's knitting work near at hand. It +proved to be just within reach, and by slow degrees +and much effort she brought it into her lap within +easy reach of both her heavy hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear!" she said, "I feel's if both my arms<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +had turned to lead. Here, Rebecca, I'm goin' to see +if I can roll your ball o' yarn along the floor through +the kitchen door. The centrifugal force will bring +it to you. Then you can cut the yarn an' tie somethin' +on the end for me to eat an' I'll haul it back +through the door."</p> + +<p>"That's jest the thing, Phœbe. Go on—I'm +ready."</p> + +<p>The theory seemed excellent, as Rebecca had fortunately +been working with a very tough flaxen yarn; +but so great was the apparent weight of Phœbe's +arms that it was only after a long series of trials ending +in failures that she finally succeeded.</p> + +<p>"I've got it!" cried Rebecca, triumphantly. "Now, +then, I've got a slice of ham and two slices of +bread——"</p> + +<p>"Don't send ham," said Phœbe. "I'd be sure to +eat it if I had it, an' 'twould make me fearful dry. +I'm sure I don't see how I'm to get any water in +here."</p> + +<p>"Thet's so," said Rebecca. "Well, here's an apple +and two slices of bread."</p> + +<p>"Are you keepin' enough for yourself, Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>"Enough an' to spare," she replied. "Now, then—all +ready! Pull 'em along!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe obeyed and soon had secured possession of +the frugal meal which Rebecca had been able to convey +to her.</p> + +<p>She offered a portion of her ration to Droop, but +he declined it, saying he had no appetite. He had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +lapsed into a kind of waking reverie and scarce knew +what was going on about him.</p> + +<p>The two women also were somewhat stupefied by +the continual rotation and their enforced immobility. +They spoke but seldom and must have dozed frequently, +for Phœbe was much surprised to find, on +looking at the clock, that it was half-past five.</p> + +<p>She glanced at the date indicator.</p> + +<p>"Why, Rebecca!" she cried. "Here 'tis November, +1804!"</p> + +<p>"My land!" cried Rebecca, forgetting her scepticism. +"What do you s'pose they're doin' in New +Hampshire now, Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>"It's 'bout election time, Rebecca. They're probably +votin' for Adams or Madison or somebody like +that."</p> + +<p>"My stars!" said Rebecca. "What ever shall we +do ef this old machine goes on back of the Revolution! +I should hate to go back an' worry through +all them terrible times."</p> + +<p>"We'll be lucky if we stop there," said Phœbe. +"I only hope to gracious we won't go back to Columbus +or King Alfred."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hope not!" said Rebecca, with a shudder. +"Folks ud think we was crazy to be talkin' 'bout +America then."</p> + +<p>Phœbe tried to toss her head.</p> + +<p>"If 'twas in Alfred's time," she said, "they couldn't +understand <i>what</i> we was talkin' about."</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise! What do you mean?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I mean just that. There wasn't any English language +then. Besides—who's to say the old thing +won't whirl us back to the days of the Greeks an' +Romans? We could see Socrates and Pericles and +Crœsus and——"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'd love to see Crœsus!" Rebecca broke in. +"He's the richest man that ever lived!"</p> + +<p>"Yes—and perhaps we'll go back of then and see +Abraham and Noah."</p> + +<p>"Ef we could see Noah, 'twould be worth while," +said Rebecca. "Joe Forrest said he didn't believe +about the flood. He said Noah couldn't hev packed +all them animals in tight enough to hev got 'em all +in the Ark. I'd like mighty well if I could ask Noah +himself 'bout it."</p> + +<p>"He couldn't understand ye," said Phœbe. "All +he spoke was Hebrew, ye know."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed Rebecca. Then, after a pause: +"S'pose we went back to the tower of Babel. Couldn't +we find the folks that was struck with the English +language an' get one of 'em to go back an' speak to +Noah?"</p> + +<p>"What good would that do? If he was struck with +English he wouldn't know Hebrew any more. That's +what made— But there!" she exclaimed, "what ninnies +we are!"</p> + +<p>There was a long pause. After many minutes, +Rebecca asked one more question.</p> + +<p>"Do you s'pose the flood would come up as fur's +this, Phœbe?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know, Rebecca. The Bible says the whole +earth, you know."</p> + +<p>And so passed the slow hours. When they were not +dozing they were either nibbling frugally the scant +fare in reach or conversing by short snatches at long +intervals.</p> + +<p>For thirty hours had they thus whirled ceaselessly +around that circle, when Phœbe, glancing through +the window at the ring to which their rope was attached, +noticed that its constant rubbing against the +ball at the top of the pole had worn it nearly through.</p> + +<p>"My goodness, Rebecca!" she cried. "I believe +we're goin' off at a tangent in a minute."</p> + +<p>"What? How?"</p> + +<p>"The ring on the pole is nigh worn out. I believe +it'll break in a minute."</p> + +<p>"If it breaks we'll move straight an' get rid o' this +side weight, won't we?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—but goodness only knows where we'll fly +to."</p> + +<p>"Why—ain't Mr. Droop there? If the side weight +goes, he can get into the engine-room an' let us down +easy."</p> + +<p>"That's so!" cried Phœbe. "Oh, won't it be grand +to stand still a minute after all this traipsin' around +and around! Mr. Droop," she continued, "do you +hear? You'd better be gettin' ready to take hold +an' stop the Panchronicon, 'cause we're goin' to break +loose in half no time."</p> + +<p>There was no reply. Nor could any calling or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +pleading elicit an answer. Droop had yielded to his +thirst and was again sleeping the sleep of the unregenerate.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rebecca, what— Oh—oo—oo!"</p> + +<p>There was a loud scream from both the sisters as +the iron ring, worn through by long rubbing, finally +snapped asunder.</p> + +<p>The tremendous pressure was suddenly lifted, and +the two women were free.</p> + +<p>With a single impulse, they flew toward the kitchen +door and fell into each other's arms.</p> + +<p>The Panchronicon had gone off at a tangent at +last!</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rebecca—Rebecca!" cried Phœbe, in tears. +"I was afraid I'd never see you again!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca cried a little too, and patted her sister's +shoulder in silence a moment.</p> + +<p>"There, deary!" she said, after awhile. "Now let's +set down an' hev a good cup o' tea. Then we can go +to bed comfortable."</p> + +<p>"But, Rebecca," said Phœbe, stepping back and +wiping her eyes, "what shall we do about the Panchronicon? +We're jest makin' fer Infinite Space, or +somewheres, as fast as we can go."</p> + +<p>"Can't help it, Phœbe. Ye sha'n't touch a thing +in that engine-room this day—not while I'm here. +Ye might blow us up the nex' time. No—I guess +we'll jest hev to trust in the Lord. He brought us +into this pickle, an' it's fer Him to see us out of it."</p> + +<p>With this comforting reflection the two sisters<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> +brewed a pot of tea, and after partaking of the refreshing +decoction, went to their respective beds.</p> + +<p>"I declare, I'm dog tired!" said Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"So'm I," said Phœbe.</p> + +<p>Those were their last words for many hours.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter">NEW TIES AND OLD RELATIONS</h3> + + +<p>How long they slept after their extraordinary experience<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +with the runaway air-ship neither Rebecca +nor Phœbe ever knew; but when they awoke all was +still, and it was evidently dark outside, for no ray +of light found its way past the hangings they had +placed over their windows.</p> + +<p>There was something uncanny in the total silence. +Even the noise of the machinery was stilled, and the +two sisters dressed together in Rebecca's room for +company's sake.</p> + +<p>"Do you suppose we've arrived in Infinite Space +yet?" Rebecca asked.</p> + +<p>"It's still enough fer it," Phœbe replied, in a low +voice. "But I don't hear the Panchronicon's machinery +any more. It must have run down entirely, +wherever we are."</p> + +<p>At that moment there was borne faintly to their +ears the distant crowing of a cock.</p> + +<p>"Well, there!" said Rebecca, with an expression +of immense relief, "I don't believe the's any hens +an' roosters in Infinite Space, is the'?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed and shook her head as she ran to +the window. She drew aside the shawl hanging before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +the glass and peered out.</p> + +<p>The first gleams of dawn were dispelling the night, +and against a dark gray sky she saw the branches of +thickly crowding trees.</p> + +<p>Dropping the shawl, she turned eagerly to her sister.</p> + +<p>"Rebecca Wise!" she exclaimed. "As sure as +you're alive, we're back safe on the ground again. +We're in the woods."</p> + +<p>"Mos' likely Putnam's wood lot," said Rebecca, +with great satisfaction as she finally adjusted her +cameo brooch. "Gracious! Won't I be glad to see +all the folks again!"</p> + +<p>She pushed open her door and, followed by Phœbe, +entered the main room. Here all was gloom, but +they could hear Droop's breathing, and knew that he +was still sleeping under the table in the corner.</p> + +<p>"For the lands sakes! Let's get out in the fresh +air," Rebecca exclaimed as she groped her way toward +the stairs. "You keep a-holt o' me, Phœbe. That's +right. We'll get out o' here an' make rabbit tracks +fer home, I tell ye. We can come back later for our +duds when that mis'able specimen is sober fer awhile +again."</p> + +<p>Slowly the two made their way down the winding +stairs to the lower hall, where, after much fumbling, +they found the door handle and lock.</p> + +<p>As they emerged from the prison that had so long +confined them, a cool morning zephyr swept their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +faces, bringing with it once more the well-known +voice of distant chanticleer.</p> + +<p>They walked across the springing turf a few yards +and were then able to make out the looming black +mass of some building beyond the end of the air-ship.</p> + +<p>"Goodness!" Rebecca whispered. "This ain't Peltonville, +Phœbe. There ain't a house in the town +as high as that, 'less it's the meetin'-house, an' 'tain't +the right shape fer that."</p> + +<p>They advanced stealthily toward the newly discovered +building, in which not a single light was to +be seen.</p> + +<p>"In good sooth," Phœbe exclaimed, putting one +hand on her sister's arm, "it hath an air of witchcraft! +Dost not feel cold chills in thee, Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca stopped short, stiff with amazement.</p> + +<p>"What's come over ye?" she asked, trying to peer +into her sister's face. "Whatever makes ye talk like +that, child?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed nervously and, taking her sister's +arm, pressed close up to her.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, dear. Did I speak funny?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"Why you know you did. What's the use o' tryin' +to scare a body with gibberish? This place is creepy +'nough now."</p> + +<p>As she spoke, they reached the door of the strange +building. They could see that it stood open, and +even as they paused near the threshold another puff +of air passed them, and they heard a door squeak +on its rusty hinges.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span></p> + +<p>They stood and listened breathlessly, peering into +the dark interior whence there was borne to their +nostrils a musty odor. A large bat whisked across +the opening, and as they started back alarmed he +returned with swift zig-zag cuts and vanished ghostlike +into the house.</p> + +<p>"It's deserted," whispered Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"Perhaps it's haunted," Phœbe replied.</p> + +<p>"Well, we needn't go in, I guess," said Rebecca, +turning from the door and starting briskly away. +"Come on this way, Phœbe—look out fer the trees—lands! +Did y'ever see so many?"</p> + +<p>A few steps brought them to a high brick wall, +against which flowers, weeds, and vines grew rank +together. They followed this wall, walking more +rapidly, for the day was breaking in earnest and +groping was needless now. Presently they came to +a spot where the wall was broken away, leaving an +opening just broad enough to admit a man's body. +Rebecca squeezed boldly through and Phœbe followed +her, rather for company's sake than with any +curiosity to see what was beyond.</p> + +<p>They found themselves in a sort of open common, +stretching to the edge of a broad roadway about a +hundred yards from where they stood. On the other +side of the road a cluster of gabled cottages was +visible against the faint rose tint of the eastern +sky.</p> + +<p>As Phœbe came to her sister's side, she clutched +her arm excitedly:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "'Tis Newington, as +true as I live! Newington and Blackman Street!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly she sat down in the grass and hid her +face in her hands.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye mean?" said Rebecca, looking down +at her sister with a puzzled expression. "Where's +Newington—I never heerd tell of Blackman Street. +Air ye thinkin' of Boston, or——"</p> + +<p>Phœbe interrupted her by leaping to her feet and +starting back to the opening in the wall.</p> + +<p>"Come back, Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Come +back quick!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca followed her sister in some alarm. Phœbe +must have been taken suddenly ill, she thought. Perhaps +they had reached one of those regions infected +by fevers of which she had heard from time to time.</p> + +<p>In silence the two women hurried back to the Panchronicon, +whose uncouth form was now quite plainly +visible behind the trees into the midst of which +it had fallen when the power stored within it was +exhausted.</p> + +<p>Not until they were safely seated in Rebecca's +room did Phœbe speak again.</p> + +<p>"There!" she exclaimed, as she dropped to a seat +on the edge of the bed, "I declare to goodness, Rebecca, +I don't know what to make of it!"</p> + +<p>"What is it? What ails ye?" said Rebecca, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Why, I don't believe I'm myself, Rebecca. I've +been here before. I know that village out there,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +and—and—it's all I can do to talk same's I've always +been used to. I'm wanting to talk like—like I did +awhile back."</p> + +<p>"It's all right! It's all right!" said Rebecca, soothingly. +"Th' ain't nothing the matter with you, +deary. Ye've ben shet up here with side weight an' +what not so long—o' course you're not yerself."</p> + +<p>She bustled about pretending to set things to +rights, but her heart was heavy with apprehension. +She thought that Phœbe was in the first stages of +delirium.</p> + +<p>"Not myself! No," said Phœbe. "No—the fact +is, I'm somebody else!"</p> + +<p>At this Rebecca straightened up and cast one horrified +glance at her sister. Then she turned and began +to put on her bonnet and jacket. Her mind was +made up. Phœbe was delirious and they must seek +a doctor—at once.</p> + +<p>"Get your things on, Phœbe," she said, striving +to appear calm. "Put on your things an' come out +with me. Let's see if we can't take a little exercise."</p> + +<p>Phœbe arose obediently and went to her room. +They were neither of them very long about their +preparations, and by the time the sun was actually +rising, the two women were leaving the air-ship for +the second time, Phœbe carrying the precious carved +box and Rebecca her satchel and umbrella.</p> + +<p>"What you bringin' that everlastin' packet o' +letters for?" Rebecca asked, as they reached the +opening in the wall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I want to have it out in the light," Phœbe replied. +"I want to see something."</p> + +<p>Outside of the brick wall she paused and opened +the box. It was empty.</p> + +<p>"I thought so!" she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, ye've brought the box 'thout the letters, +Phœbe," said Rebecca. "You're not agoin' back for +them, air ye?"</p> + +<p>"No," Phœbe replied, "'twouldn't do any good. +Rebecca. They aren't there."</p> + +<p>She dropped the box in the grass and looked wistfully +about her.</p> + +<p>"Not there!" said Rebecca, nonplussed. "Why, +who'd take 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody. They haven't been written yet."</p> + +<p>"Not—not—" Rebecca gasped for a moment and +then hurried toward the road. "Come on!" she cried.</p> + +<p>Surely, she thought—surely they must find a doctor +without delay.</p> + +<p>But before they reached the road, Rebecca was +glad to pause again and take advantage of a friendly +bush from whose cover she might gaze without being +herself observed.</p> + +<p>The broad highway which but so short a time ago +was quite deserted, was now occupied by a double +line of bustling people—young and old—men, +women, and children. Those travelling toward their +left, to the north, were principally men and boys, +although now and then a pair of loud-voiced girls +passed northward with male companions. Those who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +were travelling southward were the younger ones, +and often whole families together. Among these +the women predominated.</p> + +<p>All of these people were laughing—calling rough +jokes back and forth—singing, running, jumping, +and dancing, till the whole roadway appeared a merry +Bedlam.</p> + +<p>"Must be a county fair near here!" exclaimed Rebecca. +"But will ye listen to the gibberish an' see +their clothes!"</p> + +<p>Indeed, the language and the costumes were most +perplexing to good New England ears and eyes, and +Rebecca knew not whether to advance or to retreat.</p> + +<p>The women all wore very wide and rather short +skirts, the petticoat worn exposed up to where a full +over-skirt or flounce gave emphasis to their hips. The +elder ones wore long-sleeved jackets and high-crowned +hats, while the young ones wore what looked +like low-necked jerseys tied together in front and +their braided hair hung from uncovered crowns.</p> + +<p>The men wore short breeches, some full trunk +hose, some tighter but puffed; their jackets were of +many fashions, from the long-skirted open coats of +the elders to the smart doublets or shirts of the +young men.</p> + +<p>The children were dressed like the adults, and +most of them wore wreaths and garlands of flowers, +while in the hands of many were baskets full of +posies.</p> + +<p>Phœbe gazed from her sister's side with the keen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span>est +delight, saying nothing, but turning her eyes +hither and thither as though afraid of losing the least +detail of the scene.</p> + +<p>Presently two young girls approached, each with +a basket in her hand. They moved slowly over the +grass, stopping constantly to pick the violets under +their feet. They were so engrossed in their task and +in their conversation that they failed to notice the +two sisters half hidden by the shrubbery.</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay!" the taller of the two was saying, "I +tell thee he made oath to't, Cicely. Knew ye ever +Master Stephen to be forsworn?"</p> + +<p>"A lover's oaths—truly!" laughed the other. +"Why, they be made for breaking. I doubt not he +hath made a like vow to a score of silly wenches ere +this, coz!"</p> + +<p>"Thou dost him wrong, Cicely. An he keep not +the tryst, 'twill only be——"</p> + +<p>"'Twill only be thy first misprision, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Marry, then——"</p> + +<p>Here their words were lost as they continued to +move farther away, still disputing together.</p> + +<p>"Well!" exclaimed Rebecca, turning to Phœbe. +"Now I know where we've ben carried to. This is +the Holy Land—Jerusalem or Bethlehem or Canaan +or some sech place. Thou—thee—thy! Did ye hear +those girls talkin' Bible language, Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>Phœbe shook her head and was about to reply +when there was a loud clamour of many tongues from +the road near by.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The May-pole! The May-pole!" and someone +started a roaring song in which hundreds soon joined. +The sisters could not distinguish the words, but the +volume of sound was tremendous.</p> + +<p>There was the tramp of many rushing feet and a +Babel of cries behind them. They turned to see a +party of twenty gayly clad young men bearing down +upon them, carrying a mighty May-pole crowned with +flowers and streaming with colored ribbons.</p> + +<p>Around these and following after were three or +four score merry lads and lasses, all running and +capering, shouting and dancing, singly or in groups, +hand in hand.</p> + +<p>In a trice Rebecca found herself clinging to Phœbe +with whom she was borne onward helpless by the +mad throng.</p> + +<p>The new-comers were clad in all sorts of fantastic +garbs, and many of them were masked. Phœbe and +her sister were therefore not conspicuous in their +long scant black skirts and cloth jackets with balloon +sleeves. Their costumes were taken for disguises, +and as they were swallowed up in the mad throng +they were looked on as fellow revellers.</p> + +<p>Had Rebecca been alone, she would probably have +succeeded in time in working her way out of this unwelcome +crowd, but to her amazement, no sooner +had they been surrounded by the young roysterers +than Phœbe, breaking her long silence, seized her +sister by the hand and began laughing, dancing, and +running with the best of them. To crown all, what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +was Rebecca's surprise to hear her sister singing word +for word the madcap song of the others, as though +she had known these words all her life. She did not +even skip those parts that made Rebecca blush.</p> + +<p>It was incredible—monstrous—impossible! Phœbe, +the sweet, modest, gentle, prudish Phœbe, singing +a questionable song in a whirl of roystering Jerusalemites!</p> + +<p>Up the broad road they danced—up to the northward, +all men making way for them as, with hand-bag +and umbrella flying in her left hand, she was +dragged forward on an indecorous run by Phœbe, +who held her tightly by the right.</p> + +<p>On—ever on, past wayside inn and many a lane +and garden, house and hedge. Over the stones and +ruts, choking in clouds of dust.</p> + +<p>Once Rebecca stumbled and a great gawky fellow +caught her around the waist to prevent her falling.</p> + +<p>"Lips pay forfeit for tripping feet, lass!" he cried, +and kissed her with a sounding smack.</p> + +<p>Furious and blushing, she swung her hand-bag in +a circle and brought it down upon the ravisher's head.</p> + +<p>"Take that, you everlastin' rascal, you!" she +gasped.</p> + +<p>The bumpkin dodged with a laugh and disappeared +in the crowd and dust, cuffing, pushing, scuffling, hugging, +and kissing quite heedless of small rebuffs.</p> + +<p>When they had proceeded thus until Rebecca +thought there was nothing left for it but to fall in +her tracks and be trampled to death, the whole crowd<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +came suddenly to a halt, and the young men began +to erect the May-pole in the midst of a shaded green +on one side of the main road.</p> + +<p>Rebecca stood, angry and breathless, trying to +flick the dust off her bag with her handkerchief, +while Phœbe, at her side, her eyes bright and cheeks +rosy, showed her pretty teeth in a broad smile of +pleasure, the while she tried to restore some order +to her hair. As for her hat, that had long ago been +lost.</p> + +<p>"I declare—I declare to goodness!" panted Rebecca, +"ef anybody'd told me ez you, Phœbe Wise, would +take on so—so like—like a—a——"</p> + +<p>"Like any Zanny's light-o-love," Phœbe broke in, +her bosom heaving with the violence of her exercise. +"But prithee, sweet, chide me not. From this on +shall I be chaste, demure, and sober as an abbess in +a play. But oh!—but oh!" she cried, stretching her +arms high over her head, "'twas a goodly frolic, sis! +I felt a three-centuries' fasting lust for it, in good +sooth!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca clutched her sister by the arm and shook +her.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise—Phœbe Wise!" she cried, looking +anxiously into her face, "wake up now—wake up! +What in the universal airth——"</p> + +<p>A loud shout cut her short, and the two sisters +turned amazed.</p> + +<p>"The bull! The bull!"</p> + +<p>There was an opening in the crowd as four men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +approached leading and driving a huge angry bull, +which was secured by a ring in his nose to which ropes +were attached. Another man followed, dragged forward +by three fierce bull-dogs in a leash.</p> + +<p>The bull was quickly tied to a stout post in the +street, and the crowd formed a circle closely surrounding +the bull-ring. It was the famous bull-ring +of Blackman Street in Southwark.</p> + +<p>A moment later the dogs were freed, and amid +their hoarse baying and growling and the deep roaring +of their adversary, the baiting began—the chief +sport of high and low in the merry days of good +Queen Bess.</p> + +<p>The sisters found themselves in the front of the +throng surrounding the raging beasts, and, before she +knew it, Rebecca saw one of the dogs caught on the +horns of the bull and tossed, yelping and bleeding, +into the air.</p> + +<p>For one moment she stood aghast in the midst of +the delighted crowd of shouting onlookers. Then +she turned and fiercely elbowed her way outward, +followed by her sister.</p> + +<p>"Come 'long—come 'long, Phœbe!" she cried. +"We'll soon put a stop to this! I'll find the selectmen +o' this town an' see ef this cruelty to animals +is agoin' on right here in open daylight. I guess +the's laws o' some kind here, ef it <i>is</i> Bethlehem or +Babylon!"</p> + +<p>Hot with indignation, the still protesting woman +reached the outskirts of the throng and looked about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +her. Close at hand a tall, swaggering fellow was +loafing about. He was dressed in yellow from head +to foot, save where his doublet and hose were slashed +with dirty red at elbows, shoulders, and hips. A +dirty ruff was around his neck, and on his head he +wore a great shapeless hat peaked up in front.</p> + +<p>"Hey, mister!" cried Rebecca, addressing this +worthy. "Can you tell me where I can find one o' +the selectmen?"</p> + +<p>The stranger paused in his walk and glanced first +at Rebecca and then, with evidently increased interest, +at Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"Selectmen?" he asked. "Who hath selected them, +dame?"</p> + +<p>He gazed quizzically at the excited woman.</p> + +<p>"Now you needn't be funny 'bout it," Rebecca +cried, "fer I'm not goin' to take any impidence. You +know who I mean by the selectmen jest's well as I +do. I'd be obliged to ye ef ye'd tell me the way—an' +drop that Bible talk—good every-day English is +good enough fer me!"</p> + +<p>"In good sooth, dame," he replied, "'tis not every +day I hear such English as yours."</p> + +<p>He paused a moment in thought. This was May-day—a +season of revelry and good-natured practical +joking. This woman was evidently quizzing him, so +it behooved him to repay her in kind.</p> + +<p>"But a truce to quips and quillets, say I," he continued. +"'Twill do me much pleasure an your ladyship +will follow me to the selectman. As it happens,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +his honor is even now holding court near London +Bridge."</p> + +<p>"London Bridge!" gasped Rebecca. "Why, London +ain't a Bible country, is it?"</p> + +<p>Deigning no notice to a query which he did not +understand, the young fellow set off to northward, +followed closely by the two women.</p> + +<p>"Keep close to him, Phœbe," said Rebecca, warningly. +"Ef we should lose the man in all this rabble +o' folks we would not find him in a hurry."</p> + +<p>"Thou seest, sweet sister," Phœbe replied, "'tis +indeed our beloved city of London. Did I not tell +thee yon village was Newington, and here we be now +in Southwark, close to London Bridge."</p> + +<p>Rebecca had forgotten her sister's ailment in the +fierce indignation which the bull-baiting had aroused. +But now she was brought back to her own personal +fears and aims with a rude shock by the strange language +Phœbe held.</p> + +<p>She leaped forward eagerly and touched their +guide's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Hey, mister!" she exclaimed, "I'd be obliged to +ye if ye'd show us the house o' the nearest doctor +before we see the selectman."</p> + +<p>The man stopped short in the middle of the street, +with a cunning leer on his face. The change of purpose +supported his belief that a May-day jest was forward.</p> + +<p>"Call me plain Jock Dean, mistress," he said. +"And now tell me further, wilt have a doctor of laws,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +of divinity, or of physic. We be in a merry mood +and a generous to-day, and will fetch forth bachelors, +masters, doctors, proctors, and all degrees from Oxford, +Cambridge, or London at a wink's notice. So +say your will."</p> + +<p>Rebecca would have returned a sharp reply to this +banter, but she was very anxious to find a physician +for Phœbe, and so thought it best to take a coaxing +course.</p> + +<p>"What I want's a doctor," she said. "I think my +sister's got the shakes or suthin', an' I must take her +to the doctor. Now look here—you look like a nice +kind of a young man. I know it's some kind of antiques +and horribles day 'round here, an' all the folks +hes on funny clothes and does nothin' on'y joke a +body. But let's drop comical talk jest fer a minute +an' get down to sense, eh?"</p> + +<p>She spoke pleadingly, and for a moment Jock +looked puzzled. He only understood a portion of +what she was saying, but he realized that she was +in some sort of trouble.</p> + +<p>"Why bait the man with silly questions, Rebecca," +Phœbe broke in. "A truce to this silly talk of apothecaries. +I have no need of surgeons, I. My good +fellow," she continued, addressing Jock with an air +of condescension that dumfounded her sister, "is not +yonder the Southwark pillory?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, mistress," he replied, with a grin. "It's there +you may see the selectman your serving-maid inquired +for."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> + +<p>Rebecca gasped and clinched her hands fiercely +on her bag and umbrella.</p> + +<p>"Serving-maid!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Ahoy—whoop—room! Yi—ki yi!"</p> + +<p>A swarm of small white animals ran wildly past +them from behind, and after them came a howling, +laughing, scrambling mob that filled the street. +Someone had loosed a few score rabbits for the delight +of the rabble.</p> + +<p>There was no time for reflection. With one accord, +Jock and the two women ran with all speed +toward the pillory and the bridge, driven forward +by the crowd behind them. To have held their +ground would have been to risk broken bones at least.</p> + +<p>Fortunately the hunted beasts turned sharply to +the right and left at the first cross street, and soon +the three human fugitives could halt and draw +breath.</p> + +<p>They found themselves in the outskirts of a crowd +surrounding the pillory, and above the heads of those +in front they could see a huge red face under a +thatch of tousled hair protruding stiffly through a +hole in a beam supported at right angles to a vertical +post about five feet high. On each side of the head +a large and dirty hand hung through an appropriate +opening in the beam.</p> + +<p>Under the prisoner's head was hung an account +of his misdeeds, placed there by some of his cronies. +These crimes were in the nature of certain breaches +of public decorum and decency, the details of which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +the bystanders were discussing with relish and good-humor.</p> + +<p>"Let's get out o' here," said Rebecca, suddenly, +when the purport of what she heard pierced her nineteenth-century +understanding. "These folks beat +me!"</p> + +<p>She turned, grasping Phœbe's arm to enforce her +request, but she found that others had crowded in +behind them and had hemmed them in. This would +not have deterred her but, unaccountably, Phœbe did +not seem inclined to move.</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay!" she said. "'Tis a wanton wastrel, +and he well deserves the pillory. But, Rebecca, I've +a mind to see what observance these people will give +the varlet. Last time I saw one pilloried, alas! they +slew him with shards and paving-stones. This fellow +is liker to be pelted with nosegays, methinks."</p> + +<p>"Mercy me, Phœbe! Whatever—what—oh, goodness +gracious grandmother, child!" Poor Rebecca +could find only exclamations wherein to express her +feelings. She began to wonder if she were dreaming.</p> + +<p>At this moment a sprightly, dashing lad, in ragged +clothing and bareheaded, sprang to the platform beside +the prisoner and waved his arms for silence.</p> + +<p>There were cries of "Hear—hear!" "Look at Baiting +Will!" "Ho—ho—bully rook!" "Sh-sh-h!"</p> + +<p>After a time the tumult subsided so that Baiting +Will could make himself heard. He was evidently +a well-known street wag, for his remarks were received +with frequent laughter and vocal applause.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hear ye—hear ye—all good folk and merry!" he +shouted. "Here ye see the liege lord of all May +merry-makers. Hail to the King of the May, my +bully boys!"</p> + +<p>"Ho—ho! All hail!"</p> + +<p>"Hurrah—crown him, crown him!"</p> + +<p>"The King of the May forever!"</p> + +<p>By dint of bawling for silence till he was red in +the face, the speaker at length made himself heard +again.</p> + +<p>"What say ye, my good hearts—shall we have a +double coronation? Where's the quean will be his +consort? Bring her forward, lads. We'll crown the +twain."</p> + +<p>This proposal was greeted with a roar of laughter +and approval, and a number of slattern women +showing the effects of strong ale in their faces +stepped boldly forward as competitors for coronation.</p> + +<p>But again Baiting Will waved his arms for a +chance to speak.</p> + +<p>"Nay, my merry lads and lasses," he cried, "it were +not meet to wed our gracious lord the king without +giving him a chance to choose his queen!"</p> + +<p>He leaned his ear close to the grinning head, pretending +to listen a moment. Then, standing forward, +he cried:</p> + +<p>"His gracious and sovereign majesty hath bid me +proclaim his choice. He bids ye send him up for +queen yon buxom dame in the black doublet and un<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>ruffed +neck—her wi' the black wand and outland +scrip."</p> + +<p>He pointed directly at Rebecca. She turned white +and started to push her way out of the crowd, but +those behind her joined hands, laughing and shouting: +"A queen—a queen!"</p> + +<p>Two or three stout fellows from just beneath the +pillory elbowed their way to her side and grasped +her arms.</p> + +<p>She struggled and shrieked in affright.</p> + +<p>Phœbe with indignant face seized the arm of the +man nearest her and pulled lustily to free her sister.</p> + +<p>"Stand aside, you knaves!" she cried, hotly. +"Know your betters and keep your greasy hands +for the sluttish queans of Southwark streets!"</p> + +<p>The lads only grinned and tightened their hold. +Rebecca was struggling fiercely and in silence, save +for an occasional shriek of fear.</p> + +<p>Phœbe raised her voice.</p> + +<p>"Good people, will ye see a lady tousled by knavish +street brawlers! What ho—a rescue—a Burton—a +Burton—a rescue—ho!"</p> + +<p>Her voice rose high above the coarse laughter and +chatter of the crowd.</p> + +<p>"What's this? Who calls?"</p> + +<p>The crowd parted to right and left with screams +and imprecations, and on a sudden two horsemen +reined up their steeds beside the sisters.</p> + +<p>"Back, ye knaves! Unhand the lady!" cried the +younger of the two, striking out with his whip at the +heads of Rebecca's captors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>Putting up their hands to ward off these blows, +the fellows hastily retreated a few steps, leaving Rebecca +and Phœbe standing alone.</p> + +<p>"What's here!" cried the young man. "God warn +us, an it be not fair Mistress Burton herself!"</p> + +<p>He leaped from his horse, and with the bridle in +one hand and his high-crowned hat in the other, he +advanced, bowing toward the sisters.</p> + +<p>He was a strongly built young man of middle +height. His smooth face, broad brow, and pleasant +eyes were lighted up by a happy smile wherein were +shown a set of strong white teeth all too rare in the +England of his time. His abundant blond hair was +cut short on top, but hung down on each side, curling +slightly over his ears. He wore a full-skirted, long-sleeved +jerkin secured by a long row of many small +buttons down the front. A loose lace collar lay flat +over his shoulders and chest. His French hose was +black, and from the tops of his riding-boots there +protruded an edging of white lace.</p> + +<p>He wore a long sword with a plain scabbard and +hilt, and on his hands were black gloves, well scented.</p> + +<p>Phœbe's face wore a smile of pleased recognition, +and she stretched forth her right hand as the cavalier +approached.</p> + +<p>"You come in good time, Sir Guy!" she said.</p> + +<p>"In very sooth, most fair, most mellific damsel, +your unworthy servitor was erring enchanted in the +paradise of your divine idea when that the horrific +alarum did wend its fear-begetting course through<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +the labyrinthine corridors of his auricular sensories."</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed, half in amusement half in soft +content. Then she turned to Rebecca, who stood +with wide-open eyes and mouth contemplating this +strange apparition.</p> + +<p>"Be not confounded, sweetheart," she said. "Have +I not told thee I have ta'en on another's self. Come—thou +art none the less dear, nor I less thine own."</p> + +<p>She stepped forward and put her hand gently on +her sister's.</p> + +<p>Rebecca looked with troubled eyes into Phœbe's +face and said, timidly:</p> + +<p>"Won't ye go to a doctor's with me, Phœbe?"</p> + +<p>There was a rude clatter of hoofs as the elder of +the new-comers trotted past the two women and, with +his whip drove back the advancing crowd, which had +begun to close in upon them again.</p> + +<p>"You were best mount and away with the ladies, +Sir Guy," he said. "Yon scurvy loons are in poor +humor for dalliance."</p> + +<p>With a graceful gesture, Sir Guy invited Phœbe +to approach his horse. She obeyed, and stepping +upon his hand found herself instantly seated before +his saddle. She seemed to find the seat familiar, and +her heart beat with a pleasure she could scarce explain +when, a moment later, the handsome cavalier +swung into place behind her and put one arm about +her waist to steady her.</p> + +<p>Rebecca started forward, terror-stricken.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Phœbe—Phœbe!" she cried. "Ye wouldn't leave +me here!"</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay!" said a gruff but kindly voice at her +side. "Here, gi'e us your hand, dame, step on my +foot, and up behind you go."</p> + +<p>Sir Guy's horse was turning to go, and in her panic +Rebecca awaited no second bidding, but scrambled +quickly though clumsily to a seat behind the serving-man.</p> + +<p>They were all four soon free of the crowd and out +of danger, thanks to the universal respect for rank +and the essential good nature of the May-day gathering.</p> + +<p>The horses assumed an easy ambling gait, a sort +of single step which was far more comfortable than +Rebecca had feared she would find it.</p> + +<p>The relief of deliverance from the rude mob behind +her gave Rebecca courage, and she gazed about +with some interest.</p> + +<p>On either side of the street the houses, which hitherto +had stood apart with gardens and orchards between +them, were now set close together, with the +wide eaves of their sharp gables touching over narrow +and dark alleyways. The architecture was unlike +anything she had ever seen, the walls being built +with the beams showing outside and the windows of +many small diamond-shaped panes.</p> + +<p>They had only proceeded a few yards when Rebecca +saw the glint of sunbeams on water before them +and found that they were approaching a great square<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +tower, surmounted by numberless poles bearing formless +round masses at their ends.</p> + +<p>With one arm around her companion to steady +herself, she held her umbrella and bag tightly in +her free hand. Now she pointed upward with her +umbrella and said:</p> + +<p>"Do you mind tellin' me, mister, what's thet fruit +they're a-dryin' up on thet meetin'-house?"</p> + +<p>The horseman glanced upward for a moment and +then replied, with something of wonder in his voice:</p> + +<p>"Why, those are men's heads, dame. Know you +not London Bridge and the traitors' poles yet?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, good land!" said the horrified woman, and +shut her mouth tightly. Evidently England was not +the sort of country she had pictured it.</p> + +<p>They rode into a long tunnel under the stones of +this massive tower and emerged to find themselves +upon the bridge. Again and again did they pass +under round-arched tunnels bored, as it were, through +gloomy buildings six or seven stories high. These +covered the bridge from end to end, and they +swarmed with a squalid humanity, if one might judge +from the calls and cries that resounded in the vaulted +passageways and interior courts.</p> + +<p>As they finally came out from beneath the last +great rookery, the sisters found themselves in London, +the great and busy city of four hundred thousand +inhabitants.</p> + +<p>They were on New Fish Street, and their nostrils +gave them witness of its name at once. Farther up<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +the slight ascent before them they met other and far +worse smells, and Rebecca was disgusted.</p> + +<p>"Where are we goin'?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, to your mistress' residence, of course."</p> + +<p>Rebecca was on the point of objecting to this characterization +of her sister, but she thought better of +it ere she spoke. After all, if these men had done +all this kindness by reason of a mistake, she needed +not to correct them.</p> + +<p>The street up which they were proceeding opened +into Gracechurch Street, leading still up the hill and +away from the Thames. It was a fairly broad highway, +but totally unpaved, and disgraced by a ditch +or "kennel" into which found their way the ill-smelling +slops thrown from the windows and doors of the +abutting houses.</p> + +<p>"Good land o' Goshen!" Rebecca exclaimed at last. +"Why in goodness' name does all the folks throw +sech messes out in the street?"</p> + +<p>"Why, where would you have them throw them, +dame?" asked her companion, in surprise. "Are ye +outlandish bred that ye put me such questions?"</p> + +<p>"Not much!" she retorted, hotly. "It's you folks +that's outlandish. Why, where I come from they +hev sewers in the city streets an' pavements an' sidewalks +an' trolley cars. Guess I've ben to Keene, an' +I ought to know."</p> + +<p>She tossed her head with the air of one who has +said something conclusive.</p> + +<p>The man held his peace for a moment, dumfound<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>ed. +Then he laughed heartily, with head thrown +back.</p> + +<p>"That's what comes of a kittenish hoyden for a +mistress. Abroad too early, dame, and strong ale +before sunrise! These have stolen away your wits +and made ye hold strange discourse. Sewers—side-walkers +forsooth—troll carries, ho—ho!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca grew red with fury. She released her +hold to thump her companion twice on the arm and +nearly fell from the horse in consequence.</p> + +<p>"You great rascal!" she cried, indignantly. "How +dare ye talk 'bout drinkin' ale! D'you s'pose I'd +touch the nasty stuff? Me—a member of the Woman's +Christian Temperance Union! Me—a Daughter +of Temperance an' wearin' the blue ribbon! You'd +ought to be ashamed, that's what you ought!"</p> + +<p>But the servant continued to laugh quietly and +Rebecca raged within. Oh how she hated to have +to sit thus close behind a man who had so insulted +her! Clinging to him, too! Clinging for dear life +to a man who accused her of drinking ale!</p> + +<p>They turned to the left into Leadenhall Street and +Bucklesbury, where the two women sniffed with delighted +relief the spicy odor of the herbs exposed +on every hand for sale. They left Gresham's Royal +Exchange on the right, and shortly afterward stopped +before the door of one of the many well-to-do houses +of that quarter.</p> + +<p>Sir Guy and the two women dismounted, and, +while the groom held the horses, the others ap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>proached +the building before which they had +paused.</p> + +<p>Rebecca was about to address Phœbe, whose blushing +face was beaming with pleasure, when the door +was suddenly thrown open and a happy-looking buxom +woman of advanced middle age appeared.</p> + +<p>"Well—well—well!" she cried, holding up her fat +hands in mock amazement. "Out upon thee, Polly, +for a light-headed wench! What—sneaking out to +an early tryst! Fie, girl!"</p> + +<p>"Now, good mine aunt," Phœbe broke in, with a +smile and a courtsey, "no tryst have I kept, in sooth. +Sir Guy is my witness that he found me quite by +chance."</p> + +<p>"In very truth, good Mistress Goldsmith," said the +knight, "it was but the very bounteous guerdon of +fair Dame Fortune that in the auspicious forthcoming +of my steed I found the inexpressible delectancy +of my so great discovery!"</p> + +<p>He bowed as he gave back one step and kissed his +hand toward Phœbe.</p> + +<p>"All one—all one," said Dame Goldsmith, laughing +as she held out her hand to Phœbe. "My good +man hath a homily prepared for you, mistress, and +the substance of it runneth on the folly of early +rising on a May-day morning."</p> + +<p>Phœbe held forth her hand to the knight, who +kissed it with a flourish, hat in hand.</p> + +<p>"Shall I hear from thee soon?" she said, in an undertone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Forthwith, most fairly beautiful—most gracious +rare!" he replied.</p> + +<p>Then, leaping on his horse, he dashed down the +street at a mad gallop, followed closely by his groom.</p> + +<p>Rebecca stood stupefied, gazing first at one and +then at the other, till she was rudely brought to her +senses by no other than Dame Goldsmith herself.</p> + +<p>"What, Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Hast breakfasted, +woman—what?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, aunt," Phœbe broke in, hurriedly. "Rebecca +must to my chamber to tire me ere I see mine uncle. +Prithee temper the fury of his homily, sweet aunt."</p> + +<p>Taking the dame's extended hand, she suffered +herself to be led within, followed by Rebecca, too +amazed to speak.</p> + +<p>On entering the street door they found themselves +in a large hall, at the farther end of which a bright +wood fire was burning, despite the season. A black +oak table was on one side of the room against the +wall, upon which were to be seen a number of earthen +beakers and a great silver jug or tankard. A carved +and cushioned settle stood against the opposite wall, +and besides two comfortable arm-chairs at the two +chimney-corners there were two or three heavy chairs +of antique pattern standing here and there. The +floor was covered with newly gathered fresh-smelling +rushes.</p> + +<p>A wide staircase led to the right, and to this Phœbe +turned at once as though she had always lived there.</p> + +<p>"Hast heard from my father yet?" she asked, paus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>ing +upon the first stair and addressing Dame Goldsmith.</p> + +<p>"Nay, girl. Not so much as a word. I trow he'll +have but little to say to me. Ay—ay—a humorous +limb, thy father, lass."</p> + +<p>She swept out of the room with a toss of the head, +and Phœbe smiled as she turned to climb the stairs. +Immediately she turned again and held out one hand +to Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"Come along, Rebecca. Let's run 'long up," she +said, relapsing into her old manner.</p> + +<p>She led the way without hesitation to a large, light +bedroom, the front of which hung over the street. +Here, too, the floor was covered with sweet rushes, +a fact which Rebecca seemed to resent.</p> + +<p>"Why the lands sakes do you suppose these London +folks dump weeds on their floors?" she asked. +"An' look there at those two beds, still unmade and +all tumbled disgraceful!"</p> + +<p>"Why, there's where we slept last night, Rebecca," +said Phœbe, laughing as she dropped into a chair. +"As for the floors," she continued, "they're always +that way when folks ain't mighty rich. The lords +and all have carpets and rugs."</p> + +<p>Rebecca, stepping very high to avoid stumbling +in the rushes, moved over to the dressing-table and +proceeded to remove her outer wraps, having first +deposited her bag and umbrella on a chair.</p> + +<p>"I don't see how in gracious you know so much +about it," she remarked, querulously. "'Pon my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +word, you acted with that young jackanapes an' that +fat old lady downstairs jest's ef you'd allus known +em."</p> + +<p>"Well, so I have," Phœbe replied, smiling. "I +knew them all nearly three hundred years before +you were born, Rebecca Wise."</p> + +<p>Rebecca dropped into a chair and looked helplessly +at her sister with her arms hanging at her sides.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise—" she began.</p> + +<p>"No, not now!" Phœbe exclaimed, stopping her +sister with a gesture. "You must call me Mistress +Mary. I'm Mary Burton, daughter of Isaac Burton, +soon to be Sir Isaac Burton, of Burton Hall. You +are my dear old tiring-woman—my sometime nurse—and +thou must needs yield me the respect and obedience +as well as the love thou owest, thou fond old +darling!"</p> + +<p>The younger woman threw her arms about the +other's neck and kissed her repeatedly.</p> + +<p>Rebecca sat mute and impassive, making no return.</p> + +<p>"Seems as though I ought to wake up soon now," +she muttered, weakly.</p> + +<p>"Come, Rebecca," Phœbe exclaimed, briskly, stepping +to a high, carved wardrobe beside her bed, "this +merry-making habit wearies me. Let us don a fitter +attire. Come—lend a hand, dearie—be quick!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca sat quite still, watching her sister as she +proceeded to change her garments, taking from wardrobe +and tiring chest her wide skirts, long-sleeved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +jacket, and striped under-vest with a promptitude +and readiness that showed perfect familiarity with +her surroundings.</p> + +<p>"There," thought Rebecca, "I have it! She's been +reading those old letters and looking at that ivory +picture so long she thinks that she's the girl in the +picture herself, now. Yes, that's it. Mary Burton +was the name!"</p> + +<p>When Phœbe was new-dressed, her sister could +not but acknowledge inwardly that the queer clothes +were mightily becoming. She appeared the beau +ideal of a merry, light-hearted, healthy girl from +the country.</p> + +<p>On one point, however, Rebecca could not refrain +from expostulating.</p> + +<p>"Look a-here, Phœbe," she said, in a scandalized +voice, as she rose and faced her sister, "ain't you goin' +to put on somethin' over your chest? That ain't +decent the way you've got yerself fixed now!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" cried Phœbe, with a mischievous +twinkle in her eye. "Wouldst have me cover my +breast like a married woman! Look to thine own +attire. Come, where hast put it?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca put her hands on her hips and looked into +her sister's face with a stern determination.</p> + +<p>"Ef you think I'm agoin' to put on play-actor +clothes an' go round lookin' indecent, Phœbe Wise, +why, you're mistaken—'cause I ain't—so there!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, nurse!" Phœbe exclaimed, earnestly. "'Tis +the costume thou art wearing now that is mummer's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +weeds. Come, sweet—come! They'll not yield thee +admittance below else."</p> + +<p>She concluded with a warning inflection, and shook +her finger affectionately at her sister.</p> + +<p>Rebecca opened her mouth several times and +closed it again in despair ere she could find a reply. +At length she seated herself slowly, folded her arms, +and said:</p> + +<p>"They can do jest whatever they please downstairs, +Phœbe. As fer me, I'd sooner be seen in my nightgown +than in the flighty, flitter-scatter duds the +women 'round here wear. Not but you look good +enough in 'em, if you'd cover your chest, but play-actin' +is meant for young folks—not fer old maids +like me."</p> + +<p>"Nay—but——"</p> + +<p>"What the lands sakes d'ye holler neigh all the +time fer? I'm not agoin' to neigh, an' you might's +well make up your mind to't."</p> + +<p>Phœbe bit her lips and then, after a moment's +hesitation, turned to the door.</p> + +<p>"Well, well! E'en have it thy way!" she said.</p> + +<p>Followed by Rebecca, the younger woman descended +the stairs. As she reached the entrance hall, +she stopped short at sight of a tall, heavy man standing +beside the table across the room with his face +buried in a great stone mug.</p> + +<p>He had dropped his flat round hat upon the table, +and his long hair fell in a sort of bush to his wide, +white-frilled ruff. He wore a long-skirted, loose coat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +of green cloth with yellow fringe, provided with +large side-pockets, but without a belt. The sleeves +were loose, but brought in tightly at the wrists by +yellow bands. His green hose were of the short and +tight French pattern, and he wore red stockings and +pointed shoes of Spanish leather.</p> + +<p>As he removed the cup with a deep sigh of satisfaction, +there was revealed a large, cheerful red face +with a hooked nose between bushy brows overhanging +large blue eyes.</p> + +<p>Phœbe stood upon the lowest stair in smiling silence +and with folded hands as he caught her eye.</p> + +<p>"Ha, thou jade!" cried Master Goldsmith, for he +it was. "Wilt give me the slip of a May-day morn!"</p> + +<p>He set down his cup with a loud bang and strode +over to the staircase, shaking his finger playfully at +his niece.</p> + +<p>Rebecca had just time to notice that his long, full +beard and mustache were decked with two or three +spots of froth when, to her great indignation, Phœbe +was folded in his arms and soundly kissed on both +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"There, lass!" he chuckled, as he stepped back, +rubbing his hands. "I told thy aunt I'd make thee +do penance for thy folly."</p> + +<p>Phœbe wiped her cheeks with her handkerchief +and tipped her head impudently at the cheerful ravisher.</p> + +<p>"Now, God mend your manners, uncle!" she exclaimed. +"What! Bedew my cheeks with the froth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +of good ale on your beard while my throat lacks the +good body o't! Why, I'm burned up wi' thirst!"</p> + +<p>"Good lack!" cried the goldsmith, turning briskly +to the table. "Had ye no drink when ye first returned, +then?"</p> + +<p>He poured a smaller cupful of foaming ale from +the great silver jug and brought it to Phœbe.</p> + +<p>Rebecca clutched the stair-rail for support, and, +with eyes ready to start from her head, she leaned +forward, incredulous, as Phœbe took the cup from +the merchant's hand.</p> + +<p>Then she could keep silence no longer.</p> + +<p>"Phœbe Wise!" she screamed, "be you goin' to +drink ALE!"</p> + +<p>No words can do justice to the awful emphasis +which she laid upon that last dread word.</p> + +<p>Phœbe turned and looked up roguishly at her sister, +who was still half-way up the stairs. The young +girl's left hand leaned on her uncle's arm, while with +her right she extended the cup in salutation.</p> + +<p>"Here's thy good health, nurse—and to our better +acquaintance," she laughed.</p> + +<p>Rebecca uttered one short scream and fled up to +their bed-room. She had seen the impossible. Her +sister Phœbe with her face buried in a mug of ale!</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">HOW FRANCIS BACON CHEATED THE BAILIFFS</h3> + + +<p>It was at about this time that Copernicus Droop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +finally awakened. He lay perfectly still for a minute +or two, wondering where he was and what had +happened. Then he began to mutter to himself.</p> + +<p>"Machinery's stopped, so we're on dry land," he +said. Then, starting up on one elbow, he listened +intently.</p> + +<p>Within the air-ship all was perfect silence, but +from without there came in faintly occasional symptoms +of life—the bark of a dog, a loud laugh, the +cry of a child.</p> + +<p>Droop slowly came to his feet and gazed about. +A faint gleam of daylight found its way past the +closed shutters. He raised the blinds and blinked +as he gazed out into a perfect thicket of trees and +shrubbery, beyond which here and there he thought +he could distinguish a high brick wall.</p> + +<p>"Well, we're in the country, anyhow!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>He turned and consulted the date indicator in the +ceiling.</p> + +<p>"May 1, 1598," he said. "Great Jonah! but we +hev whirled back fer keeps! I s'pose we jest whirled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +till she broke loose."</p> + +<p>He gazed about him and observed that the two +state-room doors were open. He walked over and +looked in.</p> + +<p>"I wonder where them women went," he said. +"Seems like they were in a tremendous hurry 'bout +gettin' way. Lucky 'tain't a city we're in, 'cause +they might'v got lost in the city."</p> + +<p>After an attempt to improve his somewhat rumpled +exterior, he made his way down the stairs and +out into the garden. Once here, he quickly discovered +the building which had arrested the attention +of the two women, but it being now broad daylight, +he was able thoroughly to satisfy himself that chance +had brought the Panchronicon into the deserted garden +of a deserted mansion.</p> + +<p>"Wal, we'll be private an' cosy here till the Panchronicon +hez time to store up more force," he said +out loud.</p> + +<p>Strolling forward, he skirted the high wall, and +ere long discovered the very opening through which +the sisters had passed at sunrise.</p> + +<p>Stepping through the breach, he found himself, +as they had done, near the main London highway +in Newington village. The hurly-burly of sunrise +had abated by this time, for wellnigh all the villagers +were absent celebrating the day around +their respective May-poles or at bear or bull-baiting.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> + +<p>With his hands behind him, he walked soberly up +and down for a few minutes, carefully surveying the +pretty wooden houses, the church in the distance, and +the stones of the churchyard on the green hill-slope +beyond. The architecture was not entirely unfamiliar. +He had seen such in books, he felt sure, but he +could not positively identify it. Was it Russian, +Japanese, or Italian?</p> + +<p>Suddenly a distant cry came to his ears.</p> + +<p>"Hi—Lizzie—Lizzie, wench! Come, drive the pig +out o' the cabbages!"</p> + +<p>He stopped short and slapped his thigh.</p> + +<p>"English!" he exclaimed. "'Tain't America, +that's dead sure. Then it's England. England in +1598," he continued, scratching his head. "Let's see. +Who in Sam Hill was runnin' things in 1598? Richard +Coor de Lion—Henry Eight—no—or was it Joan +of Arc? Be darned ef I know!"</p> + +<p>He looked about him again and selected a neighboring +house which he thought promised information.</p> + +<p>He went to the front door and knocked. There +was no reply, despite many attempts to arouse the +inmates.</p> + +<p>"Might ha' known," he muttered, and started +around the house, where he found a side door half +hidden beneath the projection of an upper story.</p> + +<p>Here his efforts were rewarded at last by the appearance +of a very old woman in a peaked hat and +coif, apparently on the point of going out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Looks like a witch in the story-books," he +thought, but his spoken comment was more polite.</p> + +<p>"Good-mornin', ma'am," he said. "Would you be +so kind as to tell me the name of this town?"</p> + +<p>"This be Newington," she replied, in a high, +cracked voice.</p> + +<p>"Newington," he replied, with a nod and a smile +intended to express complete enlightenment. "Ah, +yes—Newington. Quite a town!"</p> + +<p>"Is that all you'd be askin', young man?" said the +old woman, a little suspiciously, eying his strange +garb.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes—no—that is, can you tell me how far +it is to London?" This was the only English city of +which he had any knowledge, so he naturally sought +to identify his locality by reference to it.</p> + +<p>"Lunnun," said the woman. "Oh, it'll be a matter +of a mile or better!"</p> + +<p>Droop was startled, but highly pleased. Here was +luck indeed.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, ma'am," he said. "Good-mornin'," +and with a cheerful nod, he made off.</p> + +<p>The fact is that this information opened up a new +field of enterprise and hope. At once there leaped +into his mind an improved revival of his original +plan. If he could have made a fortune with his great +inventions in 1876, what might he not accomplish +by the same means in 1598! He pictured to himself +the delight of the ancient worthies when they +heard the rag-time airs and minstrel jokes produced +by his phonograph.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By hockey!" he exclaimed, in irrepressible delight, +"I'll make their gol darned eyes pop out!"</p> + +<p>As he marched up and down in the deserted garden, +hidden by the friendly brick wall, he bitterly +regretted that he had limited himself to so few modern +inventions.</p> + +<p>"Ef I'd only known I was comin' this fur back!" +he exclaimed, as he talked to himself that he might +feel less lonely. "Ef I'd only known, I could hev +brought a heap of other things jest's well as not. +Might hev taught 'em 'bout telegraphin' an' telephones. +Could ha' given 'em steam-engines an' parlor +matches. By ginger!" he exclaimed, "I b'lieve +I've got some parlor matches. Great Jehosaphat! +Won't I get rich!"</p> + +<p>But at this a new difficulty presented itself to his +mind. He foresaw no trouble in procuring patents +for his inventions, but how about the capital for their +exploitation? Presumably this was quite as necessary +here in England as it would have been in America +in 1876. Unfortunately, his original plan was +impossible of fulfilment. Rebecca had failed him +as a capitalist. Besides, she and Phœbe had both +completely disappeared.</p> + +<p>It was long before he saw his way out of this difficulty, +but by dint of persistent pondering he finally +lit upon a plan.</p> + +<p>He had brought with him a camera, several hundred +plates, and a complete developing and printing +outfit. He determined to set up as a professional<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +photographer. His living would cost him nothing, +as the Panchronicon was well stored with provisions. +To judge by his surroundings, his privacy would probably +be respected. Then, by setting up as a photographer +he would at least earn a small amount of +current coin and perhaps attract some rich and powerful +backer by the novelty and excellence of his +process. On this chance he relied for procuring the +capital which was undoubtedly necessary for his +purpose.</p> + +<p>By noon of the next day he had begun operations, +having taken two or three views of familiar scenes +in the neighborhood, which he affixed as samples +to a large cardboard sign on which he had printed, +in large type:</p> + +<div class="minispace"> </div> +<div class="border2"> +<h3>AMERICAN PHOTOGRAPHER<br /> +<small>THE ONLY ONE IN EXISTENCE</small></h3> + +<h3><i>Step up and have your picture taken</i></h3> +</div> +<div class="minispace"> </div> + +<p>This sign he nailed to a tree near the road which +he made his headquarters. He preferred to keep the +location and nature of his abode a secret, and so spent +his days under his tree or sitting in the porch of some +neighboring house, for he was not long in making +friends, and his marvellous tales made him very +popular.</p> + +<p>It was difficult for him to fix a price at first, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +being acquainted with the coin of the realm, but he +put his whole mind to the acquisition of reliable information +on this point, and his native shrewdness +brought him success.</p> + +<p>He found that it was wisest for every reason to +let it be believed that the pictures were produced +by hand. The camera, he explained, was a mere aid +to accuracy of observation and memory in reproduction +of what he saw through it. Thus he was able +to command much higher prices for the excellence +and perfection of his work and, had he but known it, +further avoided suspicion of witchcraft which would +probably have attached to him had he let it be known +that the camera really produced the picture.</p> + +<p>In the course of his daily gossip with neighbors +and with the customers, rustic and urban, who were +attracted by his fame, he soon learned that "Good +Queen Bess" ruled the land, and his speech gradually +took on a tinge of the Elizabethan manner and +vocabulary which, mingling with his native New +England idioms, produced a very picturesque effect.</p> + +<p>It was a warm night some weeks after Droop had +"hung out his shingle" as a professional photographer +that he sat in the main room of the Panchronicon, +reading for perhaps the twentieth time Phœbe's famous +book on Bacon and Shakespeare, which she had +left behind. The other books on hand he found too +dry, and he whiled away his idle hours with this invaluable +historic work, feeling that its tone was in +harmony with his recent experiences.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> + +<p>So to-night he was reading with the shutters tightly +closed to prevent attracting the gaze of outsiders. +No one had yet discovered his residence, and he had +flattered himself that it would remain permanently +a secret.</p> + +<p>His surprise and consternation were great, therefore, +when he was suddenly disturbed in his reading +by a gentle knocking on the door at the foot of the +stairs.</p> + +<p>"Great Jonah!" he exclaimed, closing his book and +cocking his head to listen. "Now, who—wonder ef +it's Cousin Rebecca or Phœbe!"</p> + +<p>The knock was repeated.</p> + +<p>"Why, 'f course 'tis!" he said. "Couldn't be anybody +else. Funny they never come back sooner!"</p> + +<p>He laid his book upon the table and started down +the stairs just as the knocking was heard for the +third time.</p> + +<p>"Comin'—comin'!" he cried. "Save the pieces!"</p> + +<p>He threw open the door and started back in alarm +as there entered a strange man wrapped in a black +cloak, which he held so as to completely hide his +features.</p> + +<p>The new-comer sprang into the little hallway and +hastily closed the door behind him.</p> + +<p>"Close in the light, friend," he said.</p> + +<p>Then, glancing about him, he ascended the stairs +and entered the main room above.</p> + +<p>Droop followed him closely, rubbing his hand +through his hair in perplexity. This intrusion threat<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>ened +to spoil his plans. It would never do to have +the neighbors swarming around the Panchronicon.</p> + +<p>The stranger threw off his cloak on entering the +upper room and turned to face his host.</p> + +<p>"I owe you sincere acknowledgment of thanks, +good sir," he said, gravely.</p> + +<p>He appeared to be about thirty-five years of age, +a man of medium stature, dark of hair and eyes, with +a pale, intellectual face and a close-clipped beard. +His entire apparel was black, save for his well-starched +ruff of moderate depth and the lace ruffles +at his wrists.</p> + +<p>"Wal, I dunno," Droop retorted. "Marry, an I +hed known as thou wast not an acquaintance——"</p> + +<p>"You would not have given me admittance?"</p> + +<p>The calm, dark eyes gazed with disconcerting +steadiness into Droop's face.</p> + +<p>"Oh—well—I ain't sayin'——"</p> + +<p>"I hope I have not intruded to your hurt or serious +confusion, friend," said the stranger, glancing +about him. "To tell the very truth, your hospitable +shelter hath offered itself in the hour of need."</p> + +<p>"What—doth it raineth—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!"</p> + +<p>"What can I do fer ye? Take a seat," said Droop, +as the stranger dropped into a chair. "Thou knowest, +forsooth, that I don't take photygraphs at night—marry, +no!"</p> + +<p>"Are you, then, the new limner who makes pictures +by aid of the box and glass?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yea—that's what I am," said Droop.</p> + +<p>"I was ignorant of the location of your dwelling. +Indeed, it is pure accident—a trick of Fortune that +hath brought me to your door to-night."</p> + +<p>Droop seated himself and directed an interrogative +gaze at his visitor.</p> + +<p>"My name's Droop—Copernicus Droop," he said. +"An' you——"</p> + +<p>"My name is Francis Bacon, Master Droop—your +servitor," he bowed slightly.</p> + +<p>Droop started up stiff and straight in his chair.</p> + +<p>"Francis Bacon!" he exclaimed. "What! Not +the one as wrote Shakespeare?"</p> + +<p>"Shakespeare—Shakespeare!" said the stranger, +in a slow, puzzled tone. "I do admit having made +some humble essays in writing—certain modest commentaries +upon human motives and relations—but, +in good sooth, the title you have named, +Master Droop, is unknown to me. Shakespeare—Shakespeare. +Pray, sir, is it a homily or an +essay?"</p> + +<p>"Why, ye see, et's—as fur's I know it's a man—a +sorter poet or genius or play-writin' man," said +Droop, somewhat confused.</p> + +<p>"A man—a poet—a genius?" Bacon repeated, +gravely. "Then, prithee, friend, how meant you in +saying you thought me him who had written Shakespeare? +Can a man—a poet—be written?"</p> + +<p>"Nay—verily—in good sooth—marry, no!" stuttered +Droop. "What they mean is thet 'twas you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +wrote the things Shakespeare put his name to—you +did, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Ahem!" said the stranger, with dubious slowness. +"A poet—a genius, you say? And I understand that +I am reputed to have been the true author of—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, indeed—yea—la!" exclaimed Droop, now +sadly confused.</p> + +<p>"Might I ask the name of some work imputed to +me, and which this—this Shake—eh——"</p> + +<p>"Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>"Ay, this Shakespeare hath impudently claimed +for his own credit and reputation?"</p> + +<p>"Well—why—suffer me—jest wait a minute," +said Droop. He clutched the book he had been +reading and opened it at random. "Here," he said. +"'Love's Labor's Lost,' for instance."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed Bacon, starting indignantly to +his feet. "'Tis but a sennight I saw this same dull +nonsense played by the Lord Chamberlain's players. +'Love's Labor's—" he broke off and repressed his +choler with some effort. Then in a slow, grave voice +he continued: "Why, sir, you have been sadly abused. +Surely the few essays I have made in the field of +letters may stand my warrant that I should not so +demean myself as is implied in this repute of me. +Pray tell me, sir, who are they that so besmirch my +reputation as to impute to my poor authority the +pitiful lines of this rascal player?"</p> + +<p>"Why, in very truth—marry, it's in that book. +It was printed in Chicago."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> + +<p>Bacon glanced contemptuously at the volume without +deigning to open it.</p> + +<p>"And prithee, Master Droop, where may Chicago +be?"</p> + +<p>"Why it <i>was</i> in—no! I mean it will be—oh, darn +it all! Chicago's in Illinois."</p> + +<p>"Illinois—yes—and Illinois?" Bacon's dark eyes +were turned in grave question upon his companion.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's in America, ye know."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Bacon. Then, with a sigh of great +relief: "Ah!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yea, verily—in sooth—or—or thereabouts," said +Droop, not knowing what to say.</p> + +<p>"Ah, in America! A land of heathen savages—red-skinned +hunters of men. Yes—yes! 'Twere not +impossible such persons might so misapprehend my +powers. 'Twould lie well within their shallow incapacities, +methinks, to impute to Francis Bacon, +Barrister of Gray's Inn, Member of Parliament for +Melcombe, Reversionary Clerk of the Star Chamber, +the friend of the Earl of Essex—to impute to me, I +say, these frothings of a villain player—this Shake—eh? +What?"</p> + +<p>"Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>"Ay."</p> + +<p>Bacon paced placidly up and down for a few moments, +while Droop followed him apologetically with +his eyes. Evidently this was a most important personage. +It behooved him to conciliate such a power +as this. Who could tell! Perhaps this friend of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +the Earl of Essex might be the capitalist for whom +he was in search.</p> + +<p>For some time Master Bacon paced back and forth +in silence, evidently wrapped in his own thoughts. +In the meantime Droop's hopes rose higher and +higher, and at length he could no longer contain +himself.</p> + +<p>"Why, Master Bacon," he said, "I'm clean surprised—yea, +marry, am I—that anybody could hev +ben sech a fool—a—eh? Well, a loon—what?—as +to hev said you wrote Shakespeare. You're a man +o' science—that's what you are. You don't concern +yourself with no trumpery poetry. I can see that +stickin' out."</p> + +<p>Bacon was startled and examined himself hurriedly.</p> + +<p>"What!" he exclaimed, "what is sticking out, +friend?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I was jest sayin' it in the sense of the word!" +said Droop, apologetically. "What I mean is, it's +clear that you're not a triflin' poet, but a man of +science—eh?"</p> + +<p>"Why, no. I do claim some capacity in the diviner +flights of lyric letters, friend. You are not +to despise poetry. Nay—rather contemn those who +bring scorn to the name of poet—vain writers +for filthy pence—fellows like this same Shakespeare."</p> + +<p>"Yes—that's what I meant," said Droop, anxious +to come to the point. "But your high-water mark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +is science—philosophy—all that. Now, you're somethin' +of a capitalist, too, I surmise."</p> + +<p>He paused expectant.</p> + +<p>"A what, friend?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you're in some Trust er other, ain't ye?—Member +of Congress—I mean Parlyment—friend of +Lord What's-'is-name—Clerk of the Star—suthin' or +other. Guess you're pretty middlin' rich, ain't ye?"</p> + +<p>Bacon's face grew long at these words, and he +seated himself in evident melancholy.</p> + +<p>"Why, to speak truth, friend," he said, "I find +myself at this moment in serious straits. Indeed, 'tis +an affair of a debt that hath driven me thus to your +door."</p> + +<p>"A debt!" said Droop, his heart sinking.</p> + +<p>"Ay. The plain truth is, that at this moment I +am followed by two bailiffs—bearers of an execution +of arrest upon my person. 'Twas to evade these +fellows that I entered this deserted garden, leaving +my horse without. 'Tis for this cause I am here. +Now, Master Droop, you know the whole truth."</p> + +<p>"Great Jonah!" said Droop, helplessly. "But +didn't you say you had friends?"</p> + +<p>"None better, Master Droop. My uncle is Lord +Burleigh—Lord High Treasurer to her Gracious +Majesty. My patron is the Earl of Essex——"</p> + +<p>"Why don't they give ye a lift?"</p> + +<p>Bacon's face grew graver.</p> + +<p>"Essex is away," he said. "On his return my necessities +will be speedily relieved. As for mine uncle,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +to him have I applied; but his lordship lives in the +sunshine of her Majesty's smiles, and he cannot be +too sudden in aid of Francis Bacon for fear of losing +the Queen's favor else."</p> + +<p>"Why so?"</p> + +<p>"A long tale of politics, friend. A speech made +by me in Parliament in opposing monopolies."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Droop, dismally. "You're down on +monopolies, air ye?"</p> + +<p>Bacon turned a wary eye upon his companion.</p> + +<p>"Why ask you this?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Why, only to—" He paused. "To say sooth," +he continued, with sudden resolution, "I want to get +a monopoly myself—two or three of 'em. I've got +some A1 inventions here, an' I want to get 'em patented. +I thought, perhaps, you or your friends might +help me."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Bacon exclaimed, with awakening interest. +"You seek my influence in furtherance of these designs. +Do I apprehend you?"</p> + +<p>"That's jest it," said Droop.</p> + +<p>"And what would be the—ahem—the recognition +which——"</p> + +<p>"Why, you'd git a quarter interest in the hull business," +said Droop, hopefully. "That is, provided +you've got the inflooence, ye know."</p> + +<p>"Too slight—too slight for Francis Bacon, Master +Droop."</p> + +<p>Copernicus thought rapidly for a minute or two. +Then he pretended indifference.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, very good!" he said. "I'll take up with Sir +Thomas Thingumbob—What's-'is-name."</p> + +<p>Bacon pretended to accept the decision and +changed the subject.</p> + +<p>"Now permit me to approach the theme of my +immediate need," he said. "These bailiffs without—they +must be evaded. May I have your assistance, +friend, in this matter?"</p> + +<p>"Why—what can I do?"</p> + +<p>"Pray observe me with all attention," Bacon began. +"These my habiliments are of the latest fashion +and of rich texture. Your habit is, if I may so speak, +of inferior fashion and substance. I will exchange +my habit for yours on this condition—that you +mount my horse forthwith and ride away. The +moon is bright and you will be pursued at once by +these scurvy bailiffs. Lead them astray, Master +Droop, to the southward, whilst I slip away to London +in your attire, wherein I feel sure no man will +recognize me. Once in London, there is a friend +of mine—one Master Isaac Burton—who is hourly +expected and from whom I count upon having some +advances to stand me in present stead. What say +you? Will you accept new clothing and rich—for +old and worn?"</p> + +<p>Droop approached his visitor and slowly examined +his clothing, gravely feeling the stuff between thumb +and finger and even putting his hand inside the +doublet to feel the lining. Bacon's outraged dignity +struggled within him with the sense of his necessity.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +Finally, just as he was about to give violent expression +to his impatience, Droop stepped back and took +in the general effect with one eye closed and his head +cocked on one side.</p> + +<p>"Jest turn round, will ye?" he said, with a whirling +movement of the hand, "an' let me see how it +looks in the back?"</p> + +<p>Biting his lips, the furious barrister turned about +and walked away.</p> + +<p>"Needs must where the devil drives," he muttered.</p> + +<p>Droop shook his head dismally.</p> + +<p>"Marry, come up!" he exclaimed. "I guess I can't +make the bargain, friend Bacon."</p> + +<p>"But why?"</p> + +<p>"I don't like the cut o' them clothes. I'd look +rideec'lous in 'em. Besides, the's too much risk in +it, Bacon, my boy," he said, familiarly, throwing +himself into the arm-chair and stretching out his legs +comfortably. "Ef the knaves was to catch me an' +find out the trick I'd played 'em, why, sure as a gun, +they'd put me in the lock-up an' try me fer stealin' +your duds—your habiliments."</p> + +<p>"Nay, then," Bacon exclaimed, eagerly, "I'll give +you a writing, Master Droop, certifying that the +clothes were sold to you for a consideration. That +will hold you blameless. What say you?"</p> + +<p>"What about the horse and the saddle and bridle?"</p> + +<p>"These are borrowed from a friend, Master +Droop," said Bacon. "These rascals know this, else +had they seized them in execution."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah, but won't they seize your clothes, Brother +Bacon?" said Droop, slyly.</p> + +<p>"Nay—that were unlawful. A man's attire is free +from process of execution."</p> + +<p>"I'll tell ye wherein I'll go ye," said Droop, with +sudden animation. "You give me that certificate, +that bill of sale, you mentioned, and also a first-class +letter to some lord or political chap with a pull at +the Patent Office, an' I'll change clothes with ye an' +fool them bailiff chaps."</p> + +<p>"I'll e'en take your former offer, then," said Bacon, +with a sigh. "One fourth part of all profits was +the proposal, was it not?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's all off!" said Droop, grandly, with a +wave of the hand. "If I go out an' risk my neck in +them skin-tight duds o' yourn, I get the hull profits +an' you get to London safe an' sound in these New +Hampshire pants."</p> + +<p>"But, good sir——"</p> + +<p>"Take it or leave it, friend."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bacon, angrily, after a few moments' +hesitation, "have your will. Give me ink, pen, and +paper."</p> + +<p>These being produced, the barrister curiously examined +the wooden penholder and steel pen.</p> + +<p>"Why, Master Droop," he said, "from what unknown +bird have you plucked forth this feather?"</p> + +<p>"Feather!" Droop exclaimed. "What feather?"</p> + +<p>"Why this?" Bacon held up the pen and holder.</p> + +<p>"That ain't a feather. It's a pen-holder an' a steel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +pen, man. Say!" he exclaimed, leaning forward +suddenly. "Ye hain't ben drinkin', hev ye?"</p> + +<p>To this Bacon only replied by a dignified stare and +turned in silence to the table.</p> + +<p>"Which you agoin' to write first," said Droop, considerately +dropping the question he had raised.</p> + +<p>"The bill of sale."</p> + +<p>"All right. I'd like to have ye put the one about +the patent real strong. I don't want to fail on the +fust try, you know."</p> + +<p>Bacon made no reply, but dipped his pen and set +to work. In due time the two documents were indited +and carefully signed.</p> + +<p>"This letter is addressed to my uncle, Lord Burleigh," +said Bacon. "He is at the Palace at Greenwich, +with the Queen."</p> + +<p>"Shall I hev to take it to him myself?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly."</p> + +<p>"Might hev trouble findin' him, I should think," +said Droop.</p> + +<p>"Mayhap. On more thought, 'twere better you +had a guide. I know a worthy gentleman—one of +the Queen's harbingers. Take you this letter to him, +for which purpose I will e'en leave it unsealed that +he may read it. He will conduct you to mine uncle, +for he hath free access to the court."</p> + +<p>"What's his name?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Percevall Hart. His is the demesne with the +high tower of burnt bricks, near the west end of +Tower Street. But stay! 'Twere better you did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +seek him at the Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap."</p> + +<p>"Sir Percevall Hart—Boar's Head—Eastcheap. +That's in London City, I s'pose."</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes," said Bacon, impatiently. "Any watchman +or passer-by will direct you. Now, sir, 'tis for +you to fulfil your promise."</p> + +<p>"All right," said Droop. "It's my innin's—so here +goes."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes the two men had changed their +costumes and stood looking at each other with a very +evident disrelish of their respective situations.</p> + +<p>Droop held his chin high in the air to avoid contact +with the stiff ruff, while his companion turned +up the collar of his nineteenth-century coat and held +it together in front as though he feared taking cold.</p> + +<p>"Why, Master Droop," said Bacon, glancing down +in surprise at his friend's nether extremities, "what +giveth that unwonted spiral look to your legs? They +be ribbed as with grievous weals."</p> + +<p>Droop tried to look down, but his wide ruff prevented +him. So he put one foot on the table and, +bringing his leg to the horizontal, gazed dismally +down upon it.</p> + +<p>"Gosh all hemlock—them's my underdrawers!" he +exclaimed. "These here ding-busted long socks o' +yourn air so all-fired tight the blamed drawers hez +hiked up in ridges all round! Makes me look like +a bunch o' bananas in a bag!" he said, crossly.</p> + +<p>"Well—well—a truce to trivial complaints," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +Bacon, hurriedly, fearful that Droop might withdraw +his consent to the rescue. "Here are my cloak +and hat, friend; and now away, I pray you, and remember—ride +to southward, that I may have a clear +field to London."</p> + +<p>Droop donned the hat and cloak and gazed at himself +sorrowfully in the glass.</p> + +<p>"Darned ef I don't look like a cross 'tween a Filipino +and a crazy cowboy!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"And think you I have not suffered in the exchange, +Master Droop?" said Bacon, reproachfully. +"In very truth, I were not worse found had I shrunken +one half within mine own doublet!"</p> + +<p>After some further urging, Droop was induced to +descend the stairs, and soon the two men stood together +at the breach in the brick wall. They heard +the low whinnying of a horse close at hand.</p> + +<p>"That is my steed," Bacon whispered. "You must +mount with instant speed and away with all haste +to the south, Master Droop."</p> + +<p>"D'ye think I won't split these darned pants and +tight socks?" said Droop.</p> + +<p>"Hush, friend, hush!" Bacon exclaimed. "The +bailiffs must not know we are here till they see you +mount and away. Nay—nay—fear not. The hose +and stockings will hold right securely, I warrant you."</p> + +<p>"Well, so long!" said Droop, and the next moment +he was in the saddle. "G'lang there! Geet ap!" +he shouted, slapping the horse's neck with his bridle.</p> + +<p>With a snort of surprise, the horse plunged forward<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +dashing across the moonlit field. A moment +later, Bacon saw two other horses leap forward in +pursuit from the dark cover of a neighboring grove.</p> + +<p>"Good!" he exclaimed. "The lure hath taken!"</p> + +<p>Then leaning over he rubbed his shins ruefully.</p> + +<p>"How the night wind doth ascend within this barbarous +hose!" he grumbled.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">PHŒBE AT THE PEACOCK INN</h3> + + +<p>While Copernicus Droop was acquiring fame and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +fortune as a photographer, Rebecca and Phœbe were +leading a quiet life in the city.</p> + +<p>Phœbe was perfectly happy. For her this was the +natural continuation of a visit which her father, +Isaac Burton, had very unwillingly permitted her +to pay to her dead mother's sister, Dame Goldsmith. +She was very fond of both her aunt and uncle, and +they petted and indulged her in every possible way.</p> + +<p>Her chief source of happiness lay in the fact that +the Goldsmiths favored the suit of Sir Guy Fenton, +with whom she found herself deeply in love from the +moment when he had so opportunely arrived to rescue +the sisters from the rude horse-play of the Southwark +mob.</p> + +<p>Poor Rebecca, on the other hand, found herself +in a most unpleasant predicament. She had shut +herself up in her room on the first day of her arrival +on discovering that her new hosts were ale drinkers, +and she had insisted upon perpetuating this imprisonment +when she had discovered that she would only +be accepted on the footing of a servant.</p> + +<p>Phœbe, who remembered Rebecca both as her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +nineteenth-century sister and as her sixteenth-century +nurse and tiring-woman, thought this determination +the best compromise under the circumstances, +and explained to her aunt that Rebecca was subject +to recurring fits of delusion, and that it was necessary +at such times to humor her in all things.</p> + +<p>On the very day of the visit of Francis Bacon to +the Panchronicon, the two sisters were sitting together +in their bed-room. Rebecca was at her knitting +by the window and Phœbe was rereading a letter +for the twentieth time, smiling now and then as she +read.</p> + +<p>"'Pears to amuse ye some," said Rebecca, dryly, +looking into her sister's rosy face. "How'd it come? +I ain't seen the postman sence we've ben here. +Seems to me they ain't up to Keene here in London. +We hed a postman twice a day at Cousin Jane's +house."</p> + +<p>"No, 'twas the flesher's lad brought it," said +Phœbe.</p> + +<p>Rebecca grunted crossly.</p> + +<p>"I wish the land sake ye'd say 'butcher' when ye +mean butcher, Phœbe," she said.</p> + +<p>"Well, the butcher's boy, then, Miss Particular!" +said Phœbe, saucily.</p> + +<p>Rebecca's face brightened.</p> + +<p>"My! It does sound good to hear ye talk good +Yankee talk, Phœbe," she said. "Ye hevn't dropped +yer play-actin' lingo fer days and days."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, 'tis over hard to remember, sis!" said Phœbe, +carelessly. "But tell me, would it be unmaidenly, +think you, were I to grant Sir Guy a private meeting—without +the house?"</p> + +<p>"Which means would I think ye was wrong to +spark with that high-falutin man out o' doors, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—say it so an thou wilt," said Phœbe, shyly.</p> + +<p>"Why, ef you're goin' to keep comp'ny with him +'tall, I sh'd think ye'd go off with him by yerself. +Thet's the way sensible folks do—at least, I b'lieve +so," she added, blushing.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Martha hath given me free permission to +see Sir Guy when I will," Phœbe continued. "But +she hath been full circumspect, and ever keepeth +within ear-shot."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" snapped Rebecca. "Y'ain't got any +Aunt Martha's fur's I know, but ef ye mean that +fat, beer-drinkin' woman downstairs, why, 'tain't any +of her concern, an' I'd tell her so, too."</p> + +<p>Phœbe twirled her letter between her fingers and +gazed pensively smiling out of the window. There +was a long pause, which was finally broken by Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"What's the letter 'bout, anyway?" she said. "Is +it from the guy?"</p> + +<p>"You mean Sir Guy," said Phœbe, in injured tones.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, sir or ma'am! Did he write it?"</p> + +<p>"Why, truth to tell," said Phœbe, slipping the note +into her bosom, "'Tis but one of the letters I read +to thee from yon carved box, Rebecca."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My sakes—that!" cried her sister. "How'd the +butcher's boy find it? You don't s'pose he stole it +out o' the Panchronicle, do ye?"</p> + +<p>"Lord warrant us, sis, no! 'Twas writ this very +day. What o'clock is it?"</p> + +<p>She ran to the window and looked down the street +toward the clock on the Royal Exchange.</p> + +<p>"Three i' the afternoon," she muttered. "The +time is short. Shall I? Shall I not?"</p> + +<p>"Talkin' o' letters," said Rebecca, suddenly, "I +wish'd you take one down to the Post-Office fer me, +Phœbe." She rose and went to a drawer in the dressing-table. +"Here's one 't I wrote to Cousin Jane in +Keene. I thought she might be worried about where +we'd got to, an' so I've written an' told her we're +in London."</p> + +<p>"The Post-Office—" Phœbe began, laughingly. +Then she checked herself. Why undeceive her +sister? Here was the excuse she had been +seeking.</p> + +<p>"Yes; an' I told her more'n that," Rebecca continued. +"I told her that jest's soon as the Panchronicle +hed got rested and got its breath, we'd set off +quick fer home—you an' me. Thet's so, ain't it, +Phœbe?" she concluded, with plaintive anxiety in her +voice.</p> + +<p>"I'll take the letter right along," said Phœbe, with +sudden determination.</p> + +<p>But Rebecca would not at once relax her hold on +the envelope.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's so, ain't it, dearie?" she insisted. "Won't +we make fer home as soon's we can?"</p> + +<p>"Sis," said Phœbe, gravely, "an I be not deeply +in error, thou art right. Now give me the letter."</p> + +<p>Rebecca relinquished the paper with a sigh of relief, +then looked up in surprise at Phœbe, who was +laughing aloud.</p> + +<p>"Why, here's a five-cent stamp, as I live!" she +cried. "Where did it come from?"</p> + +<p>"I hed it in my satchel," said Rebecca. "Ain't +that the right postage?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—yes," said Phœbe, still laughing. "And now +for the Post-Office!"</p> + +<p>She donned her coif and high-crowned hat with +silver braid, and leaned over Rebecca, who had seated +herself, to give her a good-by kiss.</p> + +<p>"Great sakes!" exclaimed Rebecca, as she received +the unaccustomed greeting. "You do look fer all +the world like one o' the Salem witches in Peter +Parley's history, Phœbe."</p> + +<p>With a light foot and a lighter heart for all its +beating, Phœbe ran down the street unperceived +from the house.</p> + +<p>"Bishopsgate!" she sang under her breath. "The +missive named Bishopsgate. He'll meet me within +the grove outside the city wall."</p> + +<p>Her feet seemed to know the way, which was not +over long, and she arrived without mishap at the +gate.</p> + +<p>Here she was amazed to see two elderly men, evi<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>dently +merchants, for they were dressed much like +her uncle the goldsmith, approach two gayly dressed +gentlemen and, stopping them on the street, proceed +to measure their swords and the width of their extravagant +ruffs with two yardsticks.</p> + +<p>The four were so preoccupied with this ceremony +that she slipped past them without attracting the +disagreeable attention she might otherwise have received.</p> + +<p>As she passed, the beruffled gentlemen were laughing, +and she heard one of them say:</p> + +<p>"God buy you, friends, our ruffs and bilbos have +had careful measurement, I warrant you."</p> + +<p>"Right careful, in sooth," said one of those with +the yardsticks. "They come within a hair's breadth +of her Majesty's prohibition."</p> + +<p>Phœbe had scant time for wonder at this, for she +saw in a grove not a hundred yards beyond the gate +the trappings of a horse, and near by what seemed +a human figure, motionless, under a tree.</p> + +<p>Making a circuit before entering the grove, she +came up behind the waiting figure, far enough within +the grove to be quite invisible from the highway.</p> + +<p>She hesitated for some time ere she felt certain +that it was indeed Sir Guy who stood before her. He +was dressed in the extreme of fashion, and she fancied +that she could smell the perfumes he wore, as +they were borne on the soft breeze blowing toward +her.</p> + +<p>His hair fell in curls on either side from beneath<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +a splendid murrey French hat, the crown of which +was wound about with a gold cable, the brim being +heavy with gold twist and spangles. His flat soft +ruff, composed of many layers of lace, hung over a +thick blue satin doublet, slashed with rose-colored +taffeta and embroidered with pearls, the front of +which was brought to a point hanging over the front +of his hose in what was known as a peascod shape. +The tight French hose was also of blue satin, vertically +slashed with rose. His riding-boots were of +soft brown Spanish leather and his stockings of pearl-gray +silk. A pearl-gray mantle lined with rose-colored +taffeta was fastened at the neck, under the +ruff, and fell in elegant folds over his left arm, half +concealing the hand resting upon the richly jewelled +hilt of a sword whose scabbard was of black velvet.</p> + +<p>"God ild us!" Phœbe exclaimed in low tones. +"What foppery have we here!"</p> + +<p>Then, slipping behind a tree, she clapped her +hands.</p> + +<p>Guy turned his head and gazed about in wonder, +for no one was visible. Phœbe puckered her lips +and whistled softly twice. Then, as her lover darted +forward in redoubled amazement, she stepped into +view, and smiled demurely upon him with hands +folded before her.</p> + +<p>The young knight leaped forward, and, dropping +on one knee, carried her hand rapturously to his +lips.</p> + +<p>"Now sink the orbed sun!" he exclaimed. "For<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +behold a fairer cometh, whose love-darting eyes do +slay the night, rendering bright day eternate!"</p> + +<p>Smiling roguishly down into his face, Phœbe shook +her head and replied:</p> + +<p>"You are full of pretty phrases. Have you not +been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned +them out of rings?"</p> + +<p>For an instant the young man was disconcerted. +Then rising, he said:</p> + +<p>"Nay, from the rings regardant of thine eyes I +learned my speech. What are golden rings to these?"</p> + +<p>"Why, how much better is thy speech when it +ringeth true," said Phœbe. "Thy speech of greeting +was conned with much pains from the cold book of +prior calculation, and so I answered you from a poet's +play. I would you loved me!"</p> + +<p>"Loved thee, oh, divine enchantress—too cruel-lovely +captress of my dole-breathing heart!"</p> + +<p>"Tut—tut—tut!" she broke in, stamping her foot. +"Thou dost it badly, Sir Guy. A truce to Euphuistic +word-coining and phrase-shifting! Wilt show thy +love—in all sadness, say!"</p> + +<p>"In any way—or sad or gay!"</p> + +<p>"Then prithee, good knight, stand on thy head by +yonder tree."</p> + +<p>The cavalier stepped back and gazed into his lady's +face as though he thought her mad.</p> + +<p>"Stand—on—my—head!" he exclaimed, slowly.</p> + +<p>Phœbe laughed merrily and clapped her hands.</p> + +<p>"Good my persuasion!" she rippled. "See how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +thou art shaken into thyself, man. What! No +phrase of lackadaisical rapture! Why, I looked to +see thee invert thine incorporate satin in an airy +rhapsody—upheld and kept unruffled by some fantastical +twist of thine imagination. Oh, Fancy—Fancy! +Couldst not e'en sustain thy knight cap-à-pie!" +and she laughed the harder as she saw her +lover's face grow longer and longer.</p> + +<p>"Why, mistress," he began, soberly, "these quips +and jests ill become a lover's tryst, methinks——"</p> + +<p>"As ill as paint and scent and ear-rings—as foppish +attire and fantastical phrases do become an honest +lover," said Phœbe, indignantly. "Dost think that +Mary Burton prizes these weary labyrinthine sentences—all +hay and wool, like the monstrous swelling +of trunk hose? Far better can I read in Master +Lilly's books. Thinkest thou I came hither to smell +civet? Nay—I love better the honest odor of cabbages +in mine aunt's kitchen! And all this finery—this +lace—this satin and this pearl embroidery——"</p> + +<p>"In God His name!" the knight broke in, stamping +his foot. "Dost take me for a little half-weaned +knave, that I'll learn how to dress me of a woman? +An you like not my speech, mistress——"</p> + +<p>Phœbe cut him short, putting her hand on his +mouth.</p> + +<p>Then she leaned her shoulder against a tree, and +looking up saucily into his face:</p> + +<p>"Now, don't get mad!" she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mad—mad!" said Sir Guy, with a puzzled look. +"An this be madness, mistress, then is her Majesty's +whole court a madhouse."</p> + +<p>"Well, young man," Phœbe replied, with her prim +New England manner, "if you want to marry me, +you'll have to come and live in a country where they +don't have queens, and you'll work in your shirt-sleeves +like an honest man. You might just's well +understand that first as last."</p> + +<p>The knight moved back a step, with an injured +expression on his face.</p> + +<p>"Nay, then," he said, "an thou mock me with uncouth +phrases, Mary, I'd best be going."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you'd better, Guy."</p> + +<p>With a reproachful glance, but holding his head +proudly, the young man mounted his horse.</p> + +<p>"He hath a noble air on horseback," Phœbe said +to herself, and she smiled.</p> + +<p>The young man saw the smile and took courage.</p> + +<p>He urged his horse forward to her side.</p> + +<p>"Mary!" he exclaimed, tenderly.</p> + +<p>"Fare thee well!" she replied, coolly, and turned +her back.</p> + +<p>He bit his lip, clinched his hand, and without another +word, struck fiercely with his spurs. With a +snort of pain, the horse bounded forward, and Phœbe +found herself alone in the grove.</p> + +<p>She gazed wistfully after the horseman and +clasped her hands in silence for a few moments. +Then, at thought of the letter she knew he was soon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +to write—the letter she had often seen in the carved +box—she smiled again and, patting her skirts, stepped +forth merrily from the edge of the grove.</p> + +<p>"After all, 'twill teach the silly lad better manners!" +she said.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had she reached the highway again when +she heard a man's voice calling in hearty tones.</p> + +<p>"Well met, Mistress Mary! I looked well to find +you near—for I take it 'twas Sir Guy passed me a +minute gone, spurring as 'twere a shame to see."</p> + +<p>She looked up and saw a stout, middle-aged countryman +on horseback, holding a folded paper in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Oh, 'tis thou, Gregory!" she said, coolly. "Mend +thy manners, man, and keep thy place."</p> + +<p>The man grinned.</p> + +<p>"For my place, Mistress Mary," he said, "I doubt +you know not where your place be."</p> + +<p>She looked up with a frown of angry surprise.</p> + +<p>"Up here behind me on young Bess," he grinned. +"See, here's your father's letter, mistress."</p> + +<p>She took the paper with one hand while with the +other she patted the soft nose of the mare, who was +bending her head around to find her mistress.</p> + +<p>"Good Bess—good old mare!" she said, gently, +gazing pensively at the letter.</p> + +<p>How well she knew every wrinkle in that paper, +every curve in the clumsy superscription. Full well +she knew its contents, too; for had she not read this +very note to Copernicus Droop at the North Pole?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +However, partly that he might not be set to asking +questions, partly in curiosity, she unfolded the paper.</p> + +<div class="minispace"> </div> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Poll</span>"—it began—"I'm starting behind the +grays for London on my way to be knighted by her +Majesty. I send this ahead by Gregory on Bess, she +being fast enow for my purpose, which is to get thee +out of the clutches of that ungodly aunt of thine. I +know her tricks, and I learn how she hath suffered +that damned milk-and-water popinjay to come courting +my Poll. So see you follow Gregory, mistress, +and without wait or parley come with him to the +Peacock Inn, where I lie to-night.</p> + +<p>"The grays are in fine fettle, and thy black mare +grows too fat for want of exercise. Thy mother-in-law +commands thy instant return with Gregory, having +much business forward with preparing gowns +and fal lals against our presentation to her Majesty.—Thy +father, Isaac Burton, of Burton Hall.</p> + +<p>"Thy mother thinks thou wilt make better speed +if I make thee to know that the players thou wottest +of are to stop at the Peacock Inn and will be giving +some sport there."</p> + +<div class="minispace"> </div> + +<p>"The players!" she exclaimed, eagerly. "Be these +the Lord Chamberlain's men?" she asked. "Is there +not among them one Will Shakespeare, Gregory? +What play give they to-night?"</p> + +<p>"All one to me, mistress," said Gregory, slowly +dismounting. "There be players at the Peacock, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +the kitchen wench told me of them as I stopped there +for a pint; but be they the Lord Chamberlain's or +the Queen's, I cannot tell."</p> + +<p>"Do they play at the Shoreditch Theatre or at the +inn, good Gregory?"</p> + +<p>"I' faith I know not, mistress," he replied, bracing +his brawny right hand, palm up, at his knee.</p> + +<p>Mechanically she put one foot into his palm and +sprang lightly upon the pillion behind the groom's +saddle.</p> + +<p>As they turned and started at a jog trot northward, +she remembered her sister and her new-found aunt.</p> + +<p>"Hold—hold, Gregory!" she cried. "What of Rebecca? +What of my aunt—my gowns?"</p> + +<p>"I am to send an ostler from the Peacock for your +nurse and clothing, mistress," said Gregory. "My +orders was not to wait for aught, but bring you back +instant quickly wheresoever I found you." After a +pause he went on with a grin: "I doubt I came late, +hows'ever. Sir Guy hath had his say, I'm thinkin'!" +and he chuckled audibly.</p> + +<p>"Now you mind your own business, Gregory!" said +Phœbe, sharply.</p> + +<p>His face fell, and during the rest of their ride he +maintained a rigid silence.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>The next morning found Phœbe sitting in her +room in the Peacock Inn, silently meditating in an +effort to establish order in the chaos of her mind. +Her hands lay passively in her lap, and between her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +fingers was an open sheet of paper whose crisp folds +showed it to be a letter.</p> + +<p>Daily contact with the people, customs, dress, and +tongue of Elizabethan England was fast giving to +her memories of the nineteenth century the dim +seeming of a dream. As she came successively into +contact with each new-old acquaintance, he took his +place in her heart and mind full grown—completely +equipped with all the associations, loves, and antipathies +of long familiarity.</p> + +<p>Gregory had brought her to the inn the night before, +and here she had received the boisterous welcome +of old Isaac Burton and the cooler greeting of +his dame, her step-mother. They took their places +in her heart, and she was not surprised to find it by +no means a high one. The old lady was overbearing +and far from loving toward Mistress Mary, as Phœbe +began to call herself. As for Isaac Burton, he +seemed quite subject to his wife's will, and Phœbe +found herself greatly estranged from him.</p> + +<p>That first afternoon, however, had transported her +into a paradise the joys of which even Dame Burton +could not spoil.</p> + +<p>Sitting in one of the exterior galleries overlooking +the courtyard of the inn, Phœbe had witnessed +a play given on a rough staging erected in the +open air.</p> + +<p>The play was "The Merchant of Venice," and who +can tell the thrills that tingled through Phœbe's +frame as, with dry lips and a beating heart, she gazed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +down upon Shylock. Behind that great false beard +was the face of England's mightiest poet. That wig +concealed the noble forehead so revered by high and +low in the home she had left behind.</p> + +<p>She was Phœbe Wise, and only Phœbe, that afternoon, +enjoying to the full the privilege which chance +had thrown in her way. And now, the morning +after, she went over it all again in memory. She +rehearsed mentally every gesture and intonation of +the poet-actor, upon whom alone she had riveted her +attention throughout the play, following him in +thought, even when he was not on the stage.</p> + +<p>Sitting there in her room, she smiled as she remembered +with what a start of surprise she had recognized +one among the groundlings in front of the +stage after the performance. It was Sir Guy, very +plainly dressed and gazing fixedly upon her. Doubtless +he had been there during the entire play, waiting +in vain for one sign of recognition. But Shylock had +held her spellbound, and even for her lover she had +been blind.</p> + +<p>She felt a little touch of pity and compunction as +she remembered these things, and suddenly she lifted +to her lips the letter she was holding.</p> + +<p>"Poor boy!" she murmured. Then, shaking her +head with a smile: "I wonder how his letter found +my room!" she said.</p> + +<p>She rose, and, going to the window where the light +was stronger, flattened out the missive and read it +again:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> + +<div class="minispace"> </div> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear, dear Mary</span>—dear to me ever, e'en in +thy displeasure—have I fallen, then, so low in thy +sight! May I not be forgiven, sweet girl, or shall +I ever stand as I have this day, gazing upward in +vain for the dear glance my fault hath forfeited?</p> + +<p>"In sober truth, dear heart, I hate myself for what +I was. What a sad mummery of lisping nothings +was my speech—and what a vanity was my attire! +Thou wast right, Mary, but oh! with what a ruthless +hand didst thou tear the veil from mine eyes! I +have seen my fault and will amend it, but oh! tell +me it was thy love and not thine anger that hath +prompted thee. And yet—why didst thou avert +thine eyes from me this even? Sweet—speak but +a word—write but a line—give some assurance, dear, +of pardon to him who is forever thine in the bonds +of love."</p> + +<div class="minispace"> </div> + +<p>She folded the letter slowly and slipped it into +the bosom of her dress with a smile on her lips and +a far-away look in her eyes. She had known this +letter almost by heart before she received it. Had +it not been one of her New England collection? +Foreknowledge of it had emboldened her to rebuke +her lover when she met him by the Bishopsgate—and +yet—it had been a surprise and a sweet novelty +to her when she had found it on her dressing-table +the night before.</p> + +<p>At length she turned slowly from the window and +said softly:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Guy's a good fellow, and I'm a lucky girl!"</p> + +<p>There was a quick thumping of heavy feet on the +landing, and a moment later a young country girl +entered. It was Betty, one of the serving girls +whom Dame Burton had brought with her to London.</p> + +<p>The lass dropped a clumsy courtesy, and said:</p> + +<p>"Mistress bade me tell ye, Miss Mary, she would +fain have ye wait on her at once. She's in the inn +parlor." Then, after a pause: "Sure she hath matter +of moment for ye, I warrant, or she'd not look so +solemn satisfied."</p> + +<p>Phœbe was strongly tempted to decline this peremptory +invitation, but curiosity threw its weight +into the balance with complaisance, and with a dignified +lift of the chin she turned to the door.</p> + +<p>"Show the way, Betty," she said.</p> + +<p>Through several long corridors full of perplexing +turns and varied by many a little flight of steps, the +two young women made their way to the principal +parlor of the inn, where they found Mistress Burton +standing expectantly before a slow log fire.</p> + +<p>Phœbe's worthy step-mother was a dame of middle +age, ruddy, black-haired, and stout. Her loud voice +and sudden movements betrayed a great fund of a +certain coarse energy, and, as her step-daughter now +entered the parlor, she was fanning her flushed face +with an open letter. Her expression was one of triumph +only half-concealed by ill-assumed commiseration.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aha, lass!" she cried, as she caught sight of +Phœbe, "art here, then? Here are news in sooth—news +for—" She broke off and turned sharply upon +Betty, who stood by the door with mouth and ears +wide open.</p> + +<p>"Leave the room, Betty!" she exclaimed. "Am I +to have every lazy jade in London prying and eavesdropping? +Trot—look alive!"</p> + +<p>She strode toward the reluctant maid and, with a +good-natured push, hastened her exit. Then, closing +the door, she turned again toward Phœbe, who had +seated herself by the fire.</p> + +<p>"Well, Polly," she resumed, "art still bent on thy +foppish lover, lass? Not mended since yesternight—what?"</p> + +<p>A cool slow inclination of Phœbe's head was the +sole response.</p> + +<p>"Out and alas!" the dame continued, tossing her +head with mingled pique and triumph. "'Tis a sad +day for thee and thine, then! This Sir Guy of thine +is as good as dead, girl! Thy popinjay is a traitor, +and his crimes have found him out!"</p> + +<p>"A traitor!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe stood erect with one hand on her heart.</p> + +<p>Dame Burton repressed a smile and continued with +a slow shake of the head:</p> + +<p>"Ay, girl; a traitor to her blessed Majesty the +Queen. His brother hath been discovered in traitorous +correspondence with the rebel O'Neill, and is on +his way to the Tower. Sir Guy's arrest hath been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +ordered, and the two brothers will lose their heads +together."</p> + +<p>Very pale, Phœbe stood with hands tight clasped +before her.</p> + +<p>"Where have you learned this, mother?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Where but here!" the dame replied, shaking the +open sheet she held in her hand. "Thy Cousin Percy, +secretary to my good Lord Burleigh, he hath despatched +me this writing here, which good Master +Portman did read to me but now."</p> + +<p>"Let me see it."</p> + +<p>As Phœbe read the confirmation of her step-mother's +ill news, she tried to persuade herself that +it was but the fabrication of a jealous rival, for this +Percy was also an aspirant to her hand. But it +proved too circumstantial to admit of this construction, +and her first fears were confirmed.</p> + +<p>"Ye see," said Dame Burton, as she received the +note again, "the provost guard is on the lad's track, +and with a warrant. I told thee thy wilful ways +would lead but to sorrow, Poll!"</p> + +<p>Phœbe heard only the first sentence of this speech. +Her mind was possessed by one idea. She must warn +her lover. Mechanically she turned away, forgetful +of her companion, and passing through the door with +ever quicker steps, left her step-mother gazing after +her in speechless indignation.</p> + +<p>Phœbe's movements were of necessity aimless at +first. Ignorant of Sir Guy's present abiding-place, +knowing of no one who could reach him, she wan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>dered +blindly forward, up one hall and down another +without a distinct immediate plan and mentally paralyzed +with dread.</p> + +<p>The sick pain of fear—the longing to reach her +lover's side—these were the first disturbers of her +peace since her return into this strange yet familiar +life of the past. Now for the first time she was learning +how vital was the hold of a sincere and deep love. +The thought of harm to him—the fear of losing him—these +swept her being clear of all small coquetries +and maiden wiles, leaving room only for the strong, +true, sensitive love of an anxious woman. Over and +over again she whispered as she walked:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Guy—Guy! Where shall I find you? What +shall I do!"</p> + +<p>She had wandered long through the mazes of the +quaint old caravansary ere she found an exit. At +length she turned a sharp corner and found herself +at the top of a short flight of steps leading to a door +which opened upon the main outer court. At that +moment a new thought leaped into her mind and +she stopped abruptly, a rush of warm color mantling +on her cheeks.</p> + +<p>Then, with a sigh of content, she sank down upon +the top step of the flight she had reached and gently +shook her head, smiling.</p> + +<p>"Too much Mary Burton, Miss Phœbe!" she murmured.</p> + +<p>She had recollected her precious box of letters. +Of these there was one which made it entirely clear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +that Mary Burton and her lover were destined to +escape this peril; for it was written from him to her +after their flight from England. All her fears fell +away, and she was left free to taste the sweetness +of the new revelation without the bitterness in which +that revelation had had its source.</p> + +<p>Very dear to Phœbe in after life was the memory +of the few moments which followed. With her mind +free from every apprehension, she leaned her shoulder +to the wall and turned her inward sight in +charmed contemplation upon the new treasure her +heart had found.</p> + +<p>How small, how trifling appeared what she had +until then called her love! Her new-found depth +and height of tender devotion even frightened her +a little, and she forced a little laugh to avert the +tears.</p> + +<p>Through the open door her eyes registered in +memory the casual movements without, while her +consciousness was occupied only with her soul's experience. +But soon this period of blissful inaction +was sharply terminated. Her still watching eyes +brought her a message so incongruous with her immediate +surroundings as to shake her out of her +waking dream. She became suddenly conscious of +a nineteenth-century intruder amid her almost medieval +surroundings.</p> + +<p>All attention now, she sat quickly upright and +looked out again. Yes—there could be no mistake—Copernicus +Droop had passed the door and was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +approaching the principal entrance of the inn on the +other side of the courtyard.</p> + +<p>Phœbe ran quickly to the door and, protecting her +eyes with one hand from the flood of brilliant sunlight, +she called eagerly after the retreating figure.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Droop—Mr. Droop!"</p> + +<p>The figure turned just as Phœbe became conscious +of a small crowd of street loafers who had thronged +curiously about the courtyard entrance, staring at +the new-comer's outlandish garb. She saw the grinning +faces turn toward her at sound of her voice, and +she shrank back into the hallway to evade their gaze.</p> + +<p>The man to whom she had called re-crossed the +courtyard with eager steps. There was something +strange in his gait and carriage, but the strong sunlight +behind him made his image indistinct, and besides, +Phœbe was accustomed to eccentricities on the +part of this somewhat disreputable acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Her astonishment was therefore complete when, +on removing his hat as he entered the hallway, this +man in New England attire proved to be a complete +stranger.</p> + +<p>Evidently the gentleman had suffered much from +the rudeness of his unwelcome followers, for his face +was flushed and his manner constrained and nervous. +Bowing slightly, he stood erect just within the door.</p> + +<p>"Did you do me the honor of a summons, mistress?" +said he.</p> + +<p>The look of amazement on Phœbe's face made +him bite his lips with increase of annoyance, for he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +saw in her emotion only renewed evidence of the +ridicule to which he had subjected himself.</p> + +<p>"I—I crave pardon!" Phœbe stammered. "I fear +I took you for another, sir."</p> + +<p>"For one Copernicus Droop, and I mistake not!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know him?" she faltered in amazement.</p> + +<p>"I have met him—to my sorrow, mistress. 'Tis +the first time and the last, I vow, that Francis Bacon +hath dealt with mountebanks!"</p> + +<p>"Francis Bacon!" cried Phœbe, delight and curiosity +now added to puzzled amazement. "Is it possible +that I see before me Sir Francis Bacon—or rather +Lord Verulam, I believe." She dropped a courtesy, +to which he returned a grave bow.</p> + +<p>"Nay, good mistress," he replied. "Neither knight +nor lord am I, but only plain Francis Bacon, barrister, +and Secretary of the Star Chamber."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Phœbe exclaimed, "not yet, I see."</p> + +<p>Then, as a look of grave inquiry settled over Bacon's +features, she continued eagerly: "Enough of +your additions, good Master Bacon. 'Twere better +I offered my congratulations, sir, than prated of these +lesser matters."</p> + +<p>"Congratulations! Good lady, you speak in riddles!"</p> + +<p>Smiling, she shook her head at him, looking meaningly +into his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh, think not <i>all</i> are ignorant of what you have +so ably hidden, Master Bacon," she said. "Can it +be that the author of that wondrous play I saw here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +given but yesternight can be content to hide his name +behind that of a too greatly favored player?"</p> + +<p>"Play, mistress!" Bacon exclaimed. "Why, here +be more soothsaying manners from a fairer speaker—but +still as dark as the uncouth ravings of that +fellow—that—that Droop."</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay!" Phœbe insisted. "You need fear no +tattling, sir. I will keep your secret—though in +very truth, were I in your worship's place, 'twould +go hard but the whole world should know my +glory!"</p> + +<p>"Secret—glory!" Bacon exclaimed. "In all conscience, +mistress, I beg you will make more clear +the matter in question. Of what play speak you? +Wherein doth it concern Francis Bacon?"</p> + +<p>"To speak plainly, then, sir, I saw your play of +the vengeful Jew and good Master Antonio. What! +Have I struck home!"</p> + +<p>She leaned against the wall with her hands behind +her and looked up at him triumphantly. To her confusion, +no answering gleam illumined the young +man's darkling eyes.</p> + +<p>"Struck home!" he exclaimed, shaking his head +querulously. "Perhaps—but where? Do you perchance +make a mock of me, Mistress—Mistress——?"</p> + +<p>She replied to the inquiry in his manner and tone +with disappointment in her voice:</p> + +<p>"Mistress Mary Burton, sir, at your service."</p> + +<p>Bacon started back a step and a new and eager +light leaped into his eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The daughter of Isaac Burton?" he cried, "soon +to be Sir Isaac?"</p> + +<p>"The same, sir. Do you know my father?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, indeed. 'Twas to seek him I came hither."</p> + +<p>Then, starting forward, Bacon poured forth in +eager accents a full account of his meeting with +Droop in the deserted grove—of how they two had +conspired to evade the bailiffs, and of his reasons for +borrowing Droop's clothing.</p> + +<p>"Conceive, then, my plight, dear lady," he concluded, +"when, on reaching London, I found that the +few coins which remained to me had been left in the +clothes which I gave to this Droop, and I have come +hither to implore the temporary aid of your good +father."</p> + +<p>"But he hath gone into London, Master Bacon," +said Phœbe. "It is most like he will not return ere +to-morrow even."</p> + +<p>Droop's hat dropped from Bacon's relaxed grasp +and he seemed to wilt in his speechless despair.</p> + +<p>Phœbe's sympathy was awakened at once, but her +anxiety to know more of the all-important question +of authorship was perhaps the keenest of her emotions.</p> + +<p>"Why," she exclaimed, "'tis a little matter that +needs not my father, methinks. If ten pounds will +serve you, I should deem it an honor to provide +them."</p> + +<p>Revived by hope, he drew himself up briskly as +he replied:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, 'twill do marvellous well, Mistress Mary—marvellous +well—nor shall repayment be delayed, +upon my honor!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, call it a fee," she replied, "and give me, I +beg of you, a legal opinion in return."</p> + +<p>Bacon stooped to pick up the hat, from which he +brushed the dust with his hand as he replied, with +dubious slowness, looking down:</p> + +<p>"Why, in sooth, mistress, I am used to gain a +greater honorarium. As a barrister of repute, mine +opinions in writing——"</p> + +<p>"Ah, then, I fear my means are too small!" Phœbe +broke in, with a smile. "'Tis a pity, too, for the +matter is simple, I verily believe."</p> + +<p>Bacon saw that he must retract or lose all, and he +went on with some haste:</p> + +<p>"Perchance 'tis not an opinion in writing that is +required," he said.</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay; your spoken word will suffice, Master +Bacon."</p> + +<p>"In that case, then——"</p> + +<p>She drew ten gold pieces from her purse and +dropped them into his extended palm. Then, seating +herself upon a bench against the wall hard by, +she said:</p> + +<p>"The case is this: If a certain merchant borrow +a large sum from a Jew in expectation of the speedy +arrival of a certain argosy of great treasure, and if +the merchant give his bond for the sum, the penalty +of the bond being one pound of flesh from the body<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +of the merchant, and if then the argosies founder +and the bond be forfeit, may the Jew recover the +pound of flesh and cut it from the body of the merchant?"</p> + +<p>As she concluded, Phœbe leaned forward and +watched her companion's face earnestly, hoping that +he would betray his hidden interest in this Shakespearian +problem by some look or sign.</p> + +<p>The face into which she gazed was grave and judicial +and the reply was a ready one.</p> + +<p>"Assuredly not! Such a bond were contrary to +public policy and void <i>ab initio</i>. The case is not one +for hesitancy; 'tis clear and certain. No court in +Christendom would for a moment lend audience to +the Jew. Why, to uphold the bond were to license +murder. True, the victim hath to this consented; +but 'tis doctrine full well proven and determined, +that no man can give valid consent to his own murder. +Were this otherwise, suicide were clearly lawful."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" Phœbe exclaimed, as this new view of the +subject was presented to her. "Then the Duke of +Venice——"</p> + +<p>She broke off and hurried into new questioning.</p> + +<p>"Another opinion hath been given me," she said. +"'Twas urged that the Jew could have his pound of +flesh, for so said the bond, but that he might shed +no blood in the cutting, blood not being mentioned +in the bond, and that his goods were forfeit +did he cut more or less than a pound, by so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +much as the weight of a hair. Think you this be +law?"</p> + +<p>Still could she see no shadow in Bacon's face betraying +consciousness that there was more in her +words than met the ear.</p> + +<p>"No—no!" he replied, somewhat contemptuously. +"If that A make promise of a chose tangible to B +and the promise fall due, B may have not only that +which was promised, but all such matters and things +accessory as must, by the very nature of the agreed +transfer, be attached to the thing promised. As, if +I sell a calf, I may not object to his removal because, +forsooth, some portion of earth from my land clingeth +to his hoofs. So blood is included in the word +'flesh' where 'twere impossible to deliver the flesh +without some blood. As for that quibble of nor +more nor less, why, 'tis the debtor's place to deliver +his promise. If he himself cut off too much, he injures +himself, if too little he hath not made good +his covenant."</p> + +<p>Complete conviction seemed to spring upon +Phœbe, as though it had been something visible to +startle her. It shook off her old English self for a +moment, and she leaped to her feet, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>"Well, there now! That settles that! I guess if +anybody wrote Shakespeare, it wasn't Bacon!"</p> + +<p>The astonishment—almost alarm—in her companion's +face filled her with amusement, and her +happy laugh rang through the echoing halls.</p> + +<p>"Many, many gracious thanks, good Master<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +Bacon!" she exclaimed. "Right well have you earned +your honorarium. And now, ere you depart, may +I make bold to urge one last request?"</p> + +<p>With a bow the young man expressed his acquiescence.</p> + +<p>"If I mistake not, you will return forthwith to +Master Droop, to the end that you may regain your +proper garb, will you not?"</p> + +<p>"That is my intention."</p> + +<p>"Then I pray you, good Master Bacon, deliver +this message to Master Droop from one Phœbe Wise, +an acquaintance of his whom I know well. Tell him +he must have all in readiness for flight and must not +leave his abode until she come. May I rely on your +faithful repetition of this to him?"</p> + +<p>"Assuredly. I shall forget no word of the message +wherewith I am so honored."</p> + +<p>"Tell him that it is a matter of life and death, sir—of +life and death!"</p> + +<p>She held out her hand. Bacon pressed his lips to +the dainty fingers and then, jamming the hard Derby +hat as far down over his long locks as possible, he +stepped forth once more into the courtyard.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">HOW THE QUEEN READ HER NEWSPAPER</h3> + + +<p>For Rebecca, left alone in the goldsmiths' city<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +house, the past night and day had been a period of +perplexity. She had been saved from any serious +anxiety by the arrival of a messenger soon after +Phœbe's departure, who had brought her word that +her "mistress" was safe in the Peacock Inn, and had +left a verbal message commanding her to come with +him at once to rejoin her.</p> + +<p>This command she naturally refused to comply +with, and sent word to the much-puzzled man-servant +that she wasn't to be "bossed around" by her younger +sister, and that if Phœbe wanted to see her she +knew where to find her. This message was delivered +to old Mistress Burton, who refrained from +repeating it to her step-daughter. For her own +ends, she thought it best to keep Mistress Mary +from her nurse, whose influence seemed invariably +opposed to her own.</p> + +<p>Left thus alone, Rebecca had had a hitherto unequalled +opportunity for reflection, and the result +of her deliberations was most practical. Whatever +might be said of the inhabitants of London in general, +it was clear to her mind that poor Phœbe was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +mentally unbalanced.</p> + +<p>The only remedy was to lure her into the Panchronicon, +and regain the distant home they ought +never to have left.</p> + +<p>The first step to be taken was therefore to rejoin +Copernicus and see that all was in readiness. It was +her intention then to seek her sister and, by humoring +her delusion and exercising an appropriately benevolent +cunning, to induce her to enter the conveyance +which had brought them both into this disastrous +complication. The latter part of this programme +was not definitely formed in her mind, and +when she sought to give it shape she found herself +appalled both by its difficulties and by the probable +twists that her conscience would have to undergo in +putting her plan into practice.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" she exclaimed at length. "I'll cross +that bridge when I come to it. The fust thing is +to find Copernicus Droop."</p> + +<p>It was at about eleven o'clock in the morning of +the day after Phœbe's departure that Rebecca came +to this audible conclusion, and she arose at once to +don her jacket and bonnet. This accomplished, she +gathered up her precious satchel and umbrella and +approached her bed-room window to observe the +weather.</p> + +<p>She had scarcely fixed her eyes upon the muddy +streets below her when she uttered a cry of amazement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good gracious alive! Ef there ain't Copernicus +right this minute!"</p> + +<p>Out through the inner hall and down the stairs +she hurried with short, shuffling steps, impatient of +the clinging rushes on the floor. Speechless she ran +past good Mistress Goldsmith, who called after her +in vain. The only reply was the slam of the front +door.</p> + +<p>Once in the street, Rebecca glanced sharply up and +down. The man she sought was not in sight, but +she shrewdly counted upon his having turned into +Leadenhall Street, toward which she had seen him +walking. Thither she hurried, and to her infinite +gratification she saw, about a hundred yards ahead, +the unmistakable trousers, coat, and Derby hat so +familiar on the person of Copernicus Droop.</p> + +<p>"Hey!" she cried. "Hey, there, Mister Droop! +Copernicus Droop!"</p> + +<p>She ended with a shrill, far-carrying, long-drawn +call that sounded much like a "whoop." Evidently +he heard her, for he started, looked over his shoulder, +and then set off with redoubled speed, as though +anxious to avoid her.</p> + +<p>She stopped short for a moment, paralyzed with +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Well!" she exclaimed. "If I ever! I suppose +it's a case of 'the wicked flee,' but he can't get away +from me as easy's that."</p> + +<p>And then began a race the like of which was never +seen before. In advance, Francis Bacon scurried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +forward as fast as he dared without running, dreading +the added publicity his rapid progress was sure +to bring upon him, yet dreading even more to be +overtaken by this amazing female apparition, in +whose accents and intonation he recognized another +of the Droop species.</p> + +<p>Behind Bacon came Rebecca, conspicuous enough +in her prim New England gown and bonneted head, +but doubly remarkable as she skipped from stone to +stone to avoid the mud and filth of the unpaved +streets, and swinging in one hand her little black +satchel and in the other her faithful umbrella.</p> + +<p>From time to time she called aloud: "Hey, stop +there! Copernicus Droop! Stop, I say! It's only +Rebecca Wise!"</p> + +<p>The race would have been a short one, indeed, +had she not found it impossible to ignore the puddles, +rubbish heaps, and other obstacles which half-filled +the streets and obstructed her path at every turn. +Bacon, who was accustomed to these conditions +and had no impeding skirts to check him, managed, +therefore, to hold his own without actually running.</p> + +<p>These two were not long left to themselves. Such +a progress could not take place in the heart of England's +capital without forming in its train an ever-growing +suite of the idle and curious. Ere long a +rabble of street-walkers, beggars, pick-pockets, and +loafers were stamping behind Rebecca, repeating her +shrill appeals with coarse variations, and assailing her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +with jokes which, fortunately for her, were worded +in terms which her New England ears could not comprehend.</p> + +<p>In this order the two strangely clad beings hurried +down toward the Thames; he in the hope of +finding a waterman who should carry him beyond +the reach of his dreaded persecutors; she counting +upon the river, which she knew to lie somewhere +ahead, to check the supposed Copernicus in his obstinate +flight.</p> + +<p>To the right they turned, through St. Clement's +Lane into Crooked Lane, and the ever-growing mob +clattered noisily after them, shouting and laughing +a gleeful chorus to her occasional solo.</p> + +<p>Leaving Eastcheap and its grimy tenements, they +emerged from New Fish Street and saw the gleam +of the river ahead of them.</p> + +<p>At this moment one of the following crowd, more +enterprising than his fellows, ran close up behind +Rebecca and, clutching the edge of her jacket, sought +to restrain her.</p> + +<p>"Toll, lass, toll!" he shouted. "Who gave thee +leave to run races in London streets?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca became suddenly fully conscious for the +first time of the sensation she had created. Stopping +short, she swung herself free and looked her +bold assailant fairly in the face.</p> + +<p>"Well, young feller," she said, with icy dignity, +"what can I do fer you?"</p> + +<p>The loafer fell back as she turned, and when she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +had spoken, he turned in mock alarm and fled, crying +as he ran:</p> + +<p>"Save us—save us! Ugly and old as a witch, I +trow!"</p> + +<p>Those in the background caught his final words +and set up a new cry which boded Rebecca no good.</p> + +<p>"A witch—a witch! Seize her! Stone her!"</p> + +<p>As they now hung back momentarily in a new +dread, self-created in their superstitious minds, Rebecca +turned again to the chase, but was sorely put +out to find that her pause had given the supposed +Droop the advantage of a considerable gain. He +was now not far from the river side. Hoping he +could go no farther, she set off once more in pursuit, +observing silence in order to save her breath.</p> + +<p>She would apparently have need of it to save herself, +for the stragglers in her wake were now impelled +by a more dangerous motive than mere curiosity or +mischief. The cry of "Witch" had awakened cruel +depths in their breasts, and they pressed forward in +close ranks with less noise and greater menace than +before.</p> + +<p>Two or three rough fellows paused to kick stones +loose from the clay of the streets, and in a few moments +the all-unconscious Rebecca would have found +herself in a really terrible predicament but for an +accident seemingly without bearing upon her circumstances.</p> + +<p>Without warning, someone in the upper story of +one of the houses near by threw from a window a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +pail of dirty water, which fell with a startling splash +a few feet in front of Rebecca.</p> + +<p>She stopped in alarm and looked up severely.</p> + +<p>"I declare to goodness! I b'lieve the folks in this +town are all plumb crazy! Sech doin's! The idea +of throwin' slops out onto the road! Why, the Kanucks +wouldn't do that in New Hampshire!"</p> + +<p>Slipping her bag onto her left wrist, she loosened +the band of her umbrella and shook the ribs free.</p> + +<p>"Lucky I brought my umbrella!" she exclaimed. +"I guess it'll be safer fer me to h'ist this, ef things is +goin' to come out o' windows!"</p> + +<p>All unknown to her, two or three of the rabble +behind her were in the act of poising themselves with +great stones in their hands, and their muscles were +stiffening for a cast when, just in the nick of time, +the obstinate snap yielded, and with a jerk the umbrella +spread itself.</p> + +<p>Turning the wide-spread gloria skyward, Rebecca +hurried forward once more, still bent upon overtaking +Copernicus Droop.</p> + +<p>That simple act saved her.</p> + +<p>A mere inactive witch was one thing—a thing +scarce distinguishable from any other old woman. +But this transformation of a black wand into a wide-spreading +tent was so obviously the result of magic, +that it was self-evident they had to do with a witch +in full defensive and offensive state.</p> + +<p>Stones fell from deadened hands and the threatening +growls and cries were lost in a unanimous gasp<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +of alarm. A moment's pause and then—utter rout. +There was a mad stampede and in a trice the street +was empty. Rebecca was alone under that inoffensive +guardian umbrella.</p> + +<p>To her grief, she found no one on the river's brim. +He whom she sought was half-way across, his conveyance +the only wherry in sight, apparently. Having +passed beyond the houses, Rebecca now folded +her umbrella and looked carefully about her. To +her great relief, she caught sight of a man's figure +recumbent on a stone bench near at hand. A pair +of oars lay by him and betrayed his vocation.</p> + +<p>She stepped promptly to his side and prodded him +with her umbrella.</p> + +<p>"Here, mister!" she cried. "Wake up, please. +What do you charge for ferryin' folks across the +river?"</p> + +<p>The waterman sat up, rubbed his eyes and yawned. +Then, without looking at his fare, he led the way +to his boat without reply. He was chary of words, +and after all, did not all the world know what to +pay for conveyance to Southwark?</p> + +<p>Rebecca gazed after him for a moment and then, +shaking her head pityingly, she murmured:</p> + +<p>"Tut—tut! Deef an' dumb, poor man! Dear, +dear!"</p> + +<p>To hesitate was to lose all hope of overtaking the +obstinate Copernicus. So, first pointing vigorously +after the retreating boat with closed umbrella, and +with many winks and nods which she supposed sup<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>plied +full meaning to her gestures, she stepped into +the wherry, and the two at once glided out on the +placid bosom of the Thames.</p> + +<p>Far different was the spectacle that greeted her +then from that which may now be witnessed near +London Bridge. In those days that bridge was alone +visible, not far to the East, and the tide that moves +now so darkly between stone embankments beneath +a myriad of grimy steamers, then flowed brightly +between low banks and wooden wharves, bearing a +gliding fleet of sailing-vessels. To the south were +the fields and woods of the open country, save where +loomed the low frame houses and the green-stained +wharves of Southwark village. Behind Rebecca was +a vast huddle of frame buildings, none higher than +three stories, sharp of gable overhanging narrow +streets, while here a tower and there a steeple stood +sentinel over the common herd. To the east the +four great stone cylinders of the Tower, frowning +over the moving world at their feet, loomed grimly +then as now.</p> + +<p>Rebecca had fixed her eyes at first with a fascinated +stare on this mighty mass of building, penetrated +by a chill of fear, although ignorant of its +tragic significance. Turning after a minute or two +from contemplation of that gloomy monument of +tyrannical power, she gazed eagerly forward again, +bent upon keeping sight of the man she was +pursuing.</p> + +<p>He and his boat had disappeared, but her disap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>pointment +was at once lost in admiring stupefaction +as she gazed upon a magnificent craft bearing across +the bows of her boat and coming from the direction +of Westminster.</p> + +<p>The hull, painted white, was ornamented with a +bold arabesque of gilding which seemed to flow naturally +in graceful lines from the garment of a golden +image of Victory mounted high on the towering +prow.</p> + +<p>From the deck at the front and back rose two large +cabins whose sides were all of brilliant glass set between +narrow panels on which were paintings, which +Rebecca could not clearly distinguish from where +she was sitting.</p> + +<p>At the waist, between and below the cabins, ten +oars protruded from each side of the barge, flashing +rhythmically as they swept forward together, +seeming to sprinkle drops of sunlight into the +river.</p> + +<p>The splendor of this apparition, contrasting as it +did with the small and somewhat dingy craft otherwise +visible above the bridge, gave a new direction +to Rebecca's thoughts and forced from her an almost +involuntary exclamation.</p> + +<p>"For the lands sakes!" she murmured. "Whoever +in the world carries on in sech style's that!"</p> + +<p>The waterman looked over his shoulder, and no +sooner caught sight of the glittering barge than, with +a powerful push of his oars, he backed water and +brought his little boat to a stand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Queen!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Rebecca glanced at the boatman with slightly +raised brows.</p> + +<p>"Thought you was deef an' dumb," she said. Then, +turning once more to the still approaching barge, she +continued: "An' so thet's Queen Victoria's ship, is +it?"</p> + +<p>"Victoria!" growled the waterman. "Ye seem as +odd in speech as in dress, mistress. Who gave ye +license to miscall our glorious sovereign?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca's brows were knit in a thoughtful frown +and she scarce knew what her companion said. The +approach of the Queen suggested a new plan of action. +She had heard of queens as all-powerful rulers, +women whose commands would be obeyed at once +and without question, in small and personal things +as in matters of greater moment. Of Queen Victoria, +too, some accounts had reached her, and all +had been in confirmation of that ruler's justice and +goodness of heart.</p> + +<p>Rebecca's new plan was therefore to appeal at once +to this benign sovereign for aid, entreat her to command +the Burtons to release Phœbe and to order +Copernicus Droop to carry both sisters back to their +New England home. This course recommended itself +strongly to the strictly honest Rebecca, because +it eliminated at once all necessity for "humoring" +Phœbe's madness, with its implied subterfuges and +equivocations. The moment was propitious for making +an attempt which could at least do no harm, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +thought. She determined to carry out the plan +which had occurred to her.</p> + +<p>Standing up in the boat: "What's the Queen's last +name?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Be seated, woman!" growled the waterman, who +was growing uneasy at sight of the increasing eccentricity +of his fare. "The Queen's name is Elizabeth, +as well ye know," he concluded, more gently. He +hoped to soothe the woman's frenzy by concessions.</p> + +<p>"Now, mister," said Rebecca, severely, "don't you +be sassy to me, fer I won't stand it. Of course, I +don't want her first name—she ain't hired help. +What's the Queen's family name—quick!"</p> + +<p>The waterman, now convinced that his fare was a +lunatic, could think of naught better than to use +soothing tones and to reply promptly, however absurd +her questions. "I' faith," he said, in a mild +voice, "I' faith, mistress, her Gracious Majesty is of +the line of Tudor. Methought——"</p> + +<p>But he broke off in horror.</p> + +<p>Waving her umbrella high above her head, Rebecca, +still standing upright in the boat, was calling +at the top of her voice:</p> + +<p>"Hallo there! Mrs. Tudor! Stop the ship, will +ye! I want to speak to Mrs. Tudor a minute!"</p> + +<p>All nature seemed to shiver and shrink in silence +at this enormous breach of etiquette—to use a mild +term. Involuntarily the ten pairs of oars in the +royal barge hung in mid-air, paralyzed by that sudden +outrage. The great, glittering structure, im<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>pelled +by momentum, glided forward directly under +the bows of Rebecca's boat and not a hundred yards +away.</p> + +<p>Again Rebecca's cry was borne shrill and clear +across the water.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! Hallo there! Ain't Mrs. Tudor on the +ship? I want to speak to her!" Then, turning to +the stupefied and trembling waterman:</p> + +<p>"Why don't you row, you? What's the matter, +anyway? Don't ye see they've stopped to wait fer +us?"</p> + +<p>Someone spoke within the after cabin. The command +was repeated in gruff tones by a man's voice, +and the ten pairs of oars fell as one into the water +and were held rigid to check the progress of the +barge.</p> + +<p>"Wherry, ahoy!" a hail came from the deck.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir!" the waterman cried.</p> + +<p>"Come alongside!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir!"</p> + +<p>Pale and weak with dread, the boatman pulled as +well as he could toward the splendid vessel ahead, +while Rebecca resumed her seat, quite satisfied that +all was as it should be.</p> + +<p>A few strokes of the oars brought them to the +barge's side, and Rebecca's waterman threw a rope +to one of the crew.</p> + +<p>A young man in uniform glowered down upon +them, and to him the waterman turned, pulling off +his cap and speaking with the utmost humility.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The jade is moon-struck, your worship!" he exclaimed, +eagerly. "I would not for a thousand +pound——"</p> + +<p>"Moon-struck!" snapped the lieutenant. "Who +gave thee commission to ferry madmen, fellow?"</p> + +<p>The poor waterman, at his wits' end, was about +to reply when Rebecca interposed.</p> + +<p>"Young man," she said, standing up, "I'll thank +you to 'tend to business. Is Mrs. Victoria Tudor at +home?"</p> + +<p>At this moment a young gentleman, magnificently +apparelled, stepped forth from the after cabin and +approached the man in uniform.</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant," he said, "her Majesty commands +that the woman be brought before her in person. +As for you," he continued, turning to the waterman, +"return whence you came, and choose your fares better +henceforth."</p> + +<p>Two of the barge's crew extended each a hand +to Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"Bend onto that, Poll!" said one, grinning.</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Rebecca. "I never +see sech impident help in all my born days! Ain't +ye got any steps for a body to climb?"</p> + +<p>A second gorgeously dressed attendant backed +hastily out of the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Look alive!" he said, peremptorily. "Her Majesty +waxes impatient. Where is the woman?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir!" replied the sailors. "Here she be!"</p> + +<p>They leaned far forward and, grasping the aston<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>ished +Rebecca each by a shoulder, lifted her quickly +over the rail.</p> + +<p>The first gentleman messenger beckoned to her +and started toward the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Follow me!" he said, curtly.</p> + +<p>Rebecca straightened her skirt and bonnet, shook +her umbrella, and turned quietly to the rail, fumbling +with the catch of her bag.</p> + +<p>"I pity yer manners, young man!" she said, coldly. +Then, with some dismay:</p> + +<p>"Here you, mister, don't ye want yer money?"</p> + +<p>But the waterman, only too glad to escape at all +from being involved in her fate, was pulling back to +the northern shore as fast as his boat would go.</p> + +<p>"Suit yourself," said Rebecca, simply. "Saves me +a dime, I guess."</p> + +<p>Turning then to the impatient gentleman waiting +at the door:</p> + +<p>"Guess you're one o' the family, ain't ye? Is your +ma in, young man?"</p> + +<p>Fortunately her full meaning was not comprehended, +and the person addressed contented himself +with drawing aside the heavy curtain of cloth of gold +and motioning to Rebecca to precede him.</p> + +<p>She nodded graciously and passed into the cabin.</p> + +<p>"That's better," she said, with an ingratiating +smile. "Good manners never did a mite o' harm, +did they?"</p> + +<p>Before following her, the messenger turned again +to the young lieutenant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Give way!" he said.</p> + +<p>At once the sweeps fell together, and the great +barge resumed its course down the river.</p> + +<p>As Rebecca entered the glass and gold enclosure, +she was at first quite dazzled by the crowd of gorgeously +arrayed courtiers who stood in two compact +groups on either side of her. Young and old alike, all +these men of the sword and cloak seemed vying one +with another for precedence in magnificence and +foppery. The rarest silks of every hue peeped forth +through slashed velvets and satins whose rustling +masses bedecked men of every age and figure. Painted +faces and ringed ears everywhere topped snowy +ruffles deep and wide, while in every hand, +scented gloves, fans, or like toys amused the idle +fingers.</p> + +<p>In the background Rebecca was only vaguely conscious +of a group of ladies in dresses of comparatively +sober pattern and color; but seated upon a luxurious +cushioned bench just in front of the others, one of +her sex struck Rebecca at once as the very centre +and climax of the magnificence that surrounded her.</p> + +<p>Here sat Elizabeth, the vain, proud, tempestuous +daughter of "bluff King Hal." Already an old +woman, she yet affected the dress and carriage of +young maidenhood, possessing unimpaired the vanity +of a youthful beauty, and, despite her growing +ugliness, commanding the gallant attentions that +gratified and supported that vanity.</p> + +<p>Her face, somewhat long and thin, was carefully<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +painted, but not so successfully as to hide the many +wrinkles traced there by her sixty-five years. Her +few blackened teeth and her false red hair seemed +to be mocked by the transcendent lustre of the rich +pearl pendants in her ears. Her thin lips, hooked +nose, and small black eyes betokened suppressed anger +as she glared upon her admiring visitor; but, far +from being alarmed by the Queen's expression, Rebecca +was only divided between her admiration of +her magnificent apparel and blushing uneasiness at +sight of the frankly uncovered bosom which Elizabeth +exhibited by right of her spinsterhood. Rebecca +remembered ever afterward how she wished +that "all those men" would sink through the floor +of the cabin.</p> + +<p>The Queen was at first both angry at the unheard-of +language Rebecca had used, and curious to see +what manner of woman dared so to express herself. +But now that she set eyes upon the outlandish garb +of her prisoner, her curiosity grew at the expense of +her wrath, and she sat silent for some time while +her little black eyes sought to explore the inmost +depths of Rebecca's mind.</p> + +<p>Rebecca, for her part, was quite unconscious of +having infringed any of the rules of courtly etiquette, +and, without expressing her belief in her +complete social equality with the Queen or anyone +else present, was so entirely convinced of this equality +that she would have deemed a statement of it +ridiculously superfluous.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span></p> + +<p>For a few moments she stood in the middle of the +open space immediately before the Queen, partly +dazed and bewildered into silence, partly expectant +of some remark from her hostess.</p> + +<p>At length, observing the grimly rigid aspect of +the silent Queen, Rebecca straightened herself primly +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."</p> + +<p>She looked about to right and left as though in +search of something.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>At this moment the rising wonder of the Queen +reached a climax, and she burst into speech with characteristic +emphasis.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>The gentleman addressed stood near the Queen +and was conspicuous for his noble air. His prominent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Stepping briskly up to the astonished Earl of Not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>tingham, +she planted herself firmly before him, turning +her back upon Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"Now look a-here, Mr. Nottingham," she said, severely, +"I'd like to know what in the world you see +that's queer about me or my ways. What's the matter, +anyway? I came here to make a quiet call on +that lady," here she pointed at the Queen with her +umbrella, "and instead of anybody bringin' a chair, +or sayin' 'How d'ye do,' the whole raft of ye hev +done nothin' but stare or call me loony. I s'pose +you're mad because I've interrupted your party, but +didn't that man there invite me in? Ef you're all +so dreadful particler, I'll jest get out o' here till Mrs. +Tudor can see me private. I'll set outside, ef I can +find a chair."</p> + +<p>With an air of offended dignity she stalked toward +the door, but turned ere she had gone ten steps and +continued, addressing the assembled company collectively:</p> + +<p>"As fer bein' loony, I can tell you this. Ef you +was where I come from in America, they'd say every +blessed one of ye was crazy as a hen with her head +off."</p> + +<p>"America!" exclaimed the Queen, as a new +thought struck her. "America! Tell me, dame, +come you from the New World?"</p> + +<p>"That's what it's sometimes called in the geographies," +Rebecca stiffly replied. "I come from Peltonville, +New Hampshire, myself. Perhaps I'd ought +to introduce myself. My name's Rebecca Wise,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +daughter of Wilmot and Nancy Wise, both deceased."</p> + +<p>She concluded her sentence with more of graciousness +than she had shown in the beginning, and the +Queen, now fully convinced of the innocent sincerity +of her visitor, showed a countenance of half-amused, +half-eager interest.</p> + +<p>"Why, Sir Walter," she cried, "this cometh within +your province, methinks. If that this good woman +be an American, you should be best able to parley +with her and learn her will."</p> + +<p>A dark-haired, stern-visaged man of middle height, +dressed less extravagantly than his fellows, acknowledged +this address by advancing and bending one +knee to the deck. Here was no longer the gay young +courtier who so gallantly spoiled a handsome cloak +to save his sovereign's shoes, but the Raleigh who +had fought a hundred battles for the same mistress +and had tasted the bitterness of her jealous cruelty +in reward.</p> + +<p>There was in his pose and manner, however, much +of that old grace which had first endeared him to +Elizabeth, and even now served to fix her fickle favor.</p> + +<p>"Most fair and gracious Majesty," he said in a low, +well-modulated voice, turning upward a seeming fascinated +eye, "what Walter Raleigh hath learned of +any special knowledge his sovereign hath taught him, +and all that he is is hers of right."</p> + +<p>"'Tis well, my good knight," said Elizabeth, beckoning +with her slender finger that he might rise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +"We know your true devotion and require now this +service, that you question this stranger in her own +tongue concerning her errand here and her quality +and estate at home."</p> + +<p>As Raleigh rose and advanced toward Rebecca, +without turning away from the Queen, the half-bewildered +American brought the end of her umbrella +sharply down upon the floor with a gesture of impatience.</p> + +<p>"What everlastin' play-actin' ways!" she snapped. +Then, addressing Sir Walter: "Say, Mr. Walter," she +continued, "ef you can't walk only sideways, you +needn't trouble to travel clear over here to me. I'll +come to you."</p> + +<p>Suiting the action to the word, Rebecca stepped +briskly forward until she stood in front of the rather +crestfallen courtier.</p> + +<p>He rallied promptly, however, and marshalling by +an effort all he could remember of the language of +the red man, he addressed the astonished Rebecca +in that tongue.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" she said.</p> + +<p>Again Sir Walter poured forth an unintelligible +torrent of syllables which completed Rebecca's disgust.</p> + +<p>With a pitying smile, she folded her hands across +her stomach.</p> + +<p>"Who's loony now?" she said, quietly.</p> + +<p>Raleigh gazed helplessly from Rebecca to the +Queen and back again from the Queen to Rebecca.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span></p> + +<p>Elizabeth, who had but imperfectly heard what +had passed between the two, leaned forward impatiently.</p> + +<p>"What says she, Raleigh?" she demanded. "Doth +she give a good account?"</p> + +<p>"Good my liege," said Raleigh, with a despairing +gesture, "an the dame be from America, her tribe +and race must needs be a distant one, placed remote +from the coast. The natives of the Floridas——"</p> + +<p>"Florida!" exclaimed Rebecca. "What you talkin' +about, anyway? That's away down South. I come +from New Hampshire, I tell you."</p> + +<p>"Know you that region, Raleigh?" said the Queen, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>Raleigh shook his head with a thoughtful expression.</p> + +<p>"Nay, your Majesty," he replied. "And if I might +venture to hint my doubts—" He paused.</p> + +<p>"Well, go on, man—go on!" said the Queen, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"I would observe that the name is an English one, +and 'tis scarce credible that in America, where our +tongue is unknown, any region can be named for an +English county."</p> + +<p>"Land sakes!" exclaimed Rebecca, in growing +amazement. "Don't know English! Why—don't +I talk as good English as any of ye? You +don't have to talk Bible talk to speak English, I sh'd +hope!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth frowned and settled back in her chair,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +turning her piercing eyes once more upon her mysterious +visitor.</p> + +<p>"Your judgment is most sound, Sir Walter," she +said. "In sooth, 'twere passing strange were our +own tongue to be found among the savages of the +New World! What have ye to say to this, mistress?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca turned her eyes from one to the other of +the bystanders, doubtful at first whether or not they +were all in a conspiracy to mock her. Her good +sense told her that this was wellnigh impossible, and +she finally came to the conclusion that sheer ignorance +was the only explanation.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" she exclaimed at last. "I've heerd +tell about how simple Britishers was, but this beats +all! Do you reely mean to tell me," she continued, +vehemently nodding her head at the Queen, "that +you think the's nothin' but Indians in America?"</p> + +<p>A murmur of indignation spread through the assembly +caused by language and manners so little +suited to the address of royalty.</p> + +<p>"The woman hath lost her wits!" said the Queen, +dryly.</p> + +<p>"There 'tis again!" said Rebecca, testily. "Why, +ef it comes to talk of simpletons and the like, I guess +the pot can't call the kettle black!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth gripped the arm of her chair and leaned +forward angrily, while two or three gentlemen advanced, +watching their mistress for the first sign of +a command. At the same moment, a triumphant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +thought occurred to Rebecca, and, dropping her umbrella, +she opened her satchel with both hands.</p> + +<p>"Ye needn't to get mad, Mrs. Tudor," she said. "I +didn't mean any offence, but I guess you wouldn't +like to be called a lunatic yerself. See here," she +continued, dragging forth a section of the newspaper +which she had brought with her, "ef you folks won't +believe my word, jest look at this! It's all here in +the newspaper—right in print. There!"</p> + +<p>She held the paper high where all might see, and +with one accord Queen and courtiers craned forward +eagerly, burning with curiosity at sight of the printed +columns interspersed with nineteenth-century illustrations.</p> + +<p>Rebecca stepped forward and handed the paper +to the Queen, and then, drawing forth another section +from her bag, she carried it to the bewildered +Raleigh, who took it like one in a trance.</p> + +<p>For some time no one spoke. Elizabeth turned +the paper this way and that, reading a bit here and +a bit there, and gazing spellbound upon the enigmatic +pictures.</p> + +<p>Having completely mastered the situation, Rebecca +now found time to consider her comfort. Far +on one side, near the door through which she had +entered, there stood a youth of perhaps sixteen, clad +in the somewhat fantastic garb of a page. Having +picked up her umbrella, Rebecca approached this +youth and said in a sharp whisper:</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you get me a chair, sonny?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span></p> + +<p>The lad disappeared with startling promptitude, +but he did not return. It was an agony of perplexity +and shyness which had moved him, not a willingness +to serve.</p> + +<p>Rebecca gazed about at the etiquette-bound men +and women around her and muttered, with an indignant +snort and toss of the head:</p> + +<p>"Set o' decorated haystacks!"</p> + +<p>Then, with head held high and a frigid "Beg pardon, +mister!" she elbowed her way through the dense +throng of gentlemen-in-waiting and seated herself on +the bench arranged along the side of the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Oof!" she exclaimed. "Feels though my legs +would drop clear off!"</p> + +<p>At length the Queen looked up.</p> + +<p>"Why, what now!" she exclaimed. "Whither hath +the strange woman gone?"</p> + +<p>A tall man dressed in black and gold stepped forward +and dropped upon one knee. He had a long, +humorous face, with high cheek bones, a straight, +good-humored mouth, with a high mustache well off +the lip and a pointed beard. The eyes, set far apart, +twinkled with the light of fun as he awaited permission +to speak.</p> + +<p>"Well, my Lord of Southampton," said the Queen, +kindly, "I doubt some gay mischief be afoot. Your +face tells me as much, my lord."</p> + +<p>"Nay, my liege," was the humble reply. "Can my +face so far forget the duty owed to Royalty as to +speak thus, not being first admitted to discourse!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> + +<p>Elizabeth smiled and replied:</p> + +<p>"Even so, my lord, but we forgive the offence if +that your face hath spoken truth. Know you aught +of the strange woman? Pray be standing."</p> + +<p>The earl arose and replied:</p> + +<p>"Of her rank and station, she must be a queen at +least, or she doth forget herself. This may your +Majesty confirm if but these your Majesty's servants +be commanded to cross the room."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth, puzzled, bowed her head slightly, and +the courtiers behind whom Rebecca had sought rest +walked with one accord to the other side of the cabin, +revealing to the astonished eyes of the Queen her +visitor quietly seated upon the bench.</p> + +<p>Rebecca nodded with a pleased look.</p> + +<p>"Well, there!" she exclaimed. "Much obliged to +you all. That's certainly better."</p> + +<p>"Dame," said Elizabeth, sternly, "is this the respect +you show to them above you in America?"</p> + +<p>"Above me!" said Rebecca, straightening up stiffly. +"There ain't anybody put above me at home, I can +tell you. Ef the' was, I'd put 'em down mighty +quick, I guess."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth raised her brows and, leaning toward +the lord treasurer, who stood at her side, she said in +an undertone:</p> + +<p>"This must be some sovereign princess in her own +country, my lord. How comes it I have not had +earlier intelligence of her arrival in this realm?"</p> + +<p>Lord Burleigh bowed profoundly and mumbled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +something about its being out of his immediate province—he +would have investigation made—etc., etc.</p> + +<p>The Queen cut him short a little impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Let it be done, my lord," she said.</p> + +<p>Then turning to Rebecca, she continued:</p> + +<p>"Our welcome is somewhat tardy, but none the less +sincere. England hath e'er been friendly to the +American, and you had been more fittingly received +had our informants been less negligent."</p> + +<p>Here the Queen shot a glance at poor Sir Walter +Raleigh, who now seemed the personification of discomfiture.</p> + +<p>"By what name are you called?" Elizabeth continued.</p> + +<p>"Wise," said Rebecca, very graciously, "Rebecca +Wise."</p> + +<p>"Lady Rebecca, will you sit nearer?"</p> + +<p>Instantly one of the pages sprang forward with a +low chair, which, in obedience to a sign from the +Queen, he placed at her right hand.</p> + +<p>"Why, I'd be right pleased," said Rebecca. "That +is, if the other folks don't mind," she continued, looking +around. "I don't want to spile your party."</p> + +<p>So saying, she advanced and sat beside the Queen, +who now turned once more to the luckless Raleigh.</p> + +<p>"Well, Sir Walter," she said, "what say you now? +You have the printed proof. Can you make aught +of it? How comes it that in all your fine travels in +the New World you have heard no English spoken?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dare say 'tain't his fault!" said Rebecca,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +indulgently. "I'm told they have a mighty queer +way o' talkin' down South, where he's ben. Comes +o' bein' brought up with darkies, ye know."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth took up the newspaper once more.</p> + +<p>"Was this printed in your realm, Lady Rebecca?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"Hey!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth started haughtily, but recollected herself +and repeated:</p> + +<p>"Was this leaf printed in your country?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—yes, indeed! Down to New York. +Pretty big paper, ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"Not voluminous alone, but right puzzling to +plain English minds," said the Queen, scanning the +paper severely. "Instance this."</p> + +<p>Slowly she read the opening lines of a market report:</p> + +<p>"The bulls received a solar-plexus blow yesterday +when it was reported that the C. R. and L. directors +had resigned in a body owing to the extensive strikes."</p> + +<p>"What words are these?" Elizabeth exclaimed in +a despairing tone. "What is a plexus of the sun, and +how doth it blow on a bull?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca jumped up and brought her head close to +the Queen's, peering over the paper which she held. +She read and reread the paragraph in question and +finally resumed her chair, slowly shaking her head.</p> + +<p>"I guess that's the Wall Street talk I've heerd tell +of," she said. "I don't understand that kind myself."</p> + +<p>"Why, Sir Walter," Elizabeth exclaimed, triumph<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>antly, +"here have we two separate tribes at least, +each speaking its proper dialect. Can it be that you +have heard no word of these before?"</p> + +<p>"Even so, my liege," was the dejected reply, "the +tribes of the North are known to no man as yet."</p> + +<p>"Passing strange!" mused the Queen, running a +critical eye over the printed page before her. "Your +talk, and that of others, hath been only of wild, copper-colored +savages, living in rude huts and wearing +only skins. Sure such as these have not types and +printing-presses! What is this book, Lady Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>"That's a newspaper, ma'am. Don't you have 'em +in London? They come out every day an' people +pay a penny apiece fer 'em."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth flashed a stern glance upon her visitor.</p> + +<p>"'Twere best not go too far, my lady," she said, +harshly. "E'en traveller's tales must in some sort +ape the truth at least. Now, prithee, to what end +is such a pamphlet printed—why, 'tis endless!"</p> + +<p>"I'll shet right up, Mis' Tudor, ef ye think I'm +tellin' wrong stories," said Rebecca, indignantly. +"Thet's a newspaper an' thet's all there is to it."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth evaded the issue and turned now to the +illustrations.</p> + +<p>"These be quaint-wondrous images!" she said. +"Pray, what now may this be? Some fantastic reverie +limned for amusement?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca jumped up again and peered over the +Queen's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Why, thet's a picture of the troops marchin' down<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +Broadway, in New York City. See, it's all explained +in print underneath it."</p> + +<p>"But these men carry arquebuses and wear a livery. +And these temples—to what false gods are they +set up?"</p> + +<p>"False gods!" exclaimed Rebecca. "Bless your +simple heart, those ain't temples. They're jest the +buildin's where the men hev their offices."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth sat in mute contemplation, vainly seeking +to realize it all.</p> + +<p>"My lords!" she burst forth suddenly, casting the +paper violently to the floor, "or this be rank forgery +and fraud or else have we been strangely deceived."</p> + +<p>She frowned at Sir Walter, who dropped his +eyes.</p> + +<p>"'Tis not to be believed that such vast cities and +great armies habited by peoples polite and learned +may be found across the sea and no report of it come +to them that visit there. How comes it that we must +await so strange a chance as this to learn such weighty +news?"</p> + +<p>She paused and only silence ensued.</p> + +<p>Rebecca stooped and recovered the paper, which +in falling had opened so as to expose new matter.</p> + +<p>"Don't be surprised," she said, soothingly. "I +allus did hear that Britishers knew mighty little +'bout America."</p> + +<p>Still frowning, Elizabeth mechanically stretched +forth her hand and Rebecca gave her the paper. The +Queen glanced at the sheet and her face lost its stern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +aspect as she eagerly brought the print nearer to +her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Why, what now!" she exclaimed. "God mend us, +here have we strange attire! Is this a woman of +your tribe, my lady?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca looked and blushed. Then, in an uneasy +tone, she said:</p> + +<p>"That's jest an advertisement fer a new corset, +Mis' Tudor. I never did see how folks ever allowed +sech things to be printed—'tain't respectable!"</p> + +<p>"A corset, call you it! And these, then?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, those are the styles, the fashions! That's the +fashion page, ye know. That's where they tell all +about what the rich folks down to New York are +wearin'."</p> + +<p>There was a murmur and a rustle among the ladies-in-waiting, +who had hitherto made no sign, and +upon the Queen's cheek there spread an added tinge, +betokening a high degree of interest and gratification.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she sighed, and glanced pleasantly over her +shoulder, "here be matters of moment, indeed! +Your Grace of Devonshire, what say you to this?"</p> + +<p>Eagerly the elderly lady so addressed stepped forward +and made a low reverence.</p> + +<p>"Look—look here, ladies all!" Elizabeth continued, +with a tremor of excitement in her voice. "Saw +you ever such an array as this?"</p> + +<p>With one accord the whole bevy of assembled ladies +pressed forward, trembling with delighted antici<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>pation. +A fashion sheet—and from the New World! +What wonder they were moved!</p> + +<p>Her Majesty was about to begin perusal of one of +the fascinating paragraphs wherein were described +those marvellous fashion-plates when there was a +cry outside of "Way 'nough!" and a moment later +the smart young lieutenant who had before accosted +Rebecca entered and stood at attention.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth looked up and frowned slightly. Folding +the paper carefully, she called to Sir Walter, +who still held in his unconscious hand the other section +of the paper.</p> + +<p>"Bring hither yon sheet, Sir Walter," she cried. +"Perchance there may be further intelligence of this +sort therein. We will peruse both pamphlets at our +leisure anon."</p> + +<p>Then, turning to the Lord High Admiral:</p> + +<p>"My Lord of Nottingham," she said, "you may +depart. Your duties await you without. Let it be +the charge of your Grace," she continued, addressing +the Duchess of Devonshire, "to attend her Highness +the Lady Rebecca. See that she be maintained as +suits her rank, and let her be near our person that +we may not lose aught of her society."</p> + +<p>The ceremony of landing prevented further discourse +between Rebecca and the Queen, and it was +with the greatest interest that the stranger observed +every detail of the formal function.</p> + +<p>Peering through the glass sides of the cabin, Rebecca +could see the landing wharf, thronged with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +servants and magnificently dressed officers, while beyond +there loomed a long, two-storied white stone +building, with a round-arched entrance flanked by +two towers. This was Greenwich Palace, a favorite +summer residence of the Queen.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">THE FAT KNIGHT AT THE BOAR'S HEAD</h3> + + +<p>When Francis Bacon, having evaded Rebecca's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +mistaken pursuit, reached the deserted grove in +which the Panchronicon still rested, he found to his +dismay that Droop was absent.</p> + +<p>Copernicus was not the man to let the grass grow +under his feet, and he had set off that morning with +his letter of introduction to seek Sir Percevall Hart, +the Queen's knight harbinger.</p> + +<p>He had determined to begin with moderation, or +in other words to ask at first for only two patents. +The first of these was to cover the phonograph. The +second was to give him a monopoly of bicycles.</p> + +<p>Accordingly he set forth fully equipped, carrying +a box of records over his shoulder by a strap and his +well-oiled bicycle trundling along beside him, with +a phonograph and small megaphone hung on the +handle-bar. He thought it best to avoid remark by +not riding his wheel, being shrewdly mindful of the +popular prejudice against witchcraft. Thanks to his +exchange with Master Bacon, he feared no comment +upon his garb. A pint flask, well filled, was concealed +within his garments, and thus armed against even +melancholy itself, he set forth fearlessly upon his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +quest.</p> + +<p>Droop had set out from the Panchronicon in the +middle of the forenoon, but, as he was obliged to +distribute a large number of photographs among his +customers before going to London, it was not until +some time after Bacon had crossed the river and +Rebecca had departed with the Queen that he found +himself on London Bridge.</p> + +<p>On reaching the London side, he stood awhile in +the ill-smelling street near the fish markets gazing +about him in quest of someone from whom he might +ask his way.</p> + +<p>"Let's see!" he mused. "Bacon said Sir Percevall +Hart, Boar's Head Tavern, Eastcheap. First thing +to find is Eastcheap, I guess. Hullo there, forsooth!" +he cried, addressing a baker's boy who was shuffling +by with his basket on his head. "Hullo there, boy—knave! +What's the shortest cut to Eastcheap?"</p> + +<p>The lad stopped and stared hard at the bright +wheels. He seemed thinking hard.</p> + +<p>"What mean you, master, by a cut?" he said, at +length.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pshaw—bother!" Droop exclaimed. "Jest +tell me the way to Eastcheap, wilt thee?"</p> + +<p>The boy pointed straight north up New Fish +Street.</p> + +<p>"Eastcheap is yonder," he said, and turned away.</p> + +<p>"Well, that's somethin'," muttered Droop. "Gives +me a start, anyway."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span></p> + +<p>Following the route pointed out, he retraced the +very course along which earlier in the day Rebecca +had proceeded in the opposite direction, thinking she +saw him ahead of her. By dint of making numerous +inquiries, he found himself at length in a region of +squalid residences and second-rate shops and ale-houses, +in the midst of which he finally discovered +the Boar's Head Tavern.</p> + +<p>The entrance was by a dark archway, overhung +by the upper stories of the building, down which he +could see a reddish glow coming and going, now faint +now bright, against the dead wall to the left. Passing +cautiously down this passage, he soon found that +the glow was projected through a half-curtained +window to the right, and was caused by the dancing +light of a pleasant fire of logs within.</p> + +<p>He thought it wise to reconnoitre before proceeding +farther, and, peeping through the small leaded +panes, he found he could survey the entire apartment.</p> + +<p>The room into which Droop stood gazing was the +common tap-room of the inn, at that moment apparently +the scene of a brisk altercation.</p> + +<p>To the left of the great brick fireplace, a large +pewter mug in his right hand, an immensely fat man +was seated. He was clad as became a cavalier, although +in sober colors, and his attitude was suggestive +of defence, his head being drawn far back to +avoid contact with a closed fist held suggestively before +his face. The fist was that of a woman who,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +standing before the fire with her other hand resting +on her hip, was evidently delivering her sentiments +in no gentle terms.</p> + +<p>A long table, black with age and use, stood parallel +to the right-hand wall, and behind this three men +were sitting with mugs before them, eying the disputants +with evident interest. To the left a large +space was devoted to three or four bulky casks, and +here an aproned drawer sat astride of a rush-bottomed +chair, grinning delightedly and exchanging nods and +winks from time to time with an impish, undersized +lad who lay on his stomach on a wine-butt with his +head craning forward over the edge.</p> + +<p>Only an occasional word reached the watcher at +the window, but among these few he recognized a +number which were far more forcible than decent. +He drew back, shook his head, and then slowly returned +to the door and looked up.</p> + +<p>Yes—he had made no mistake. Above his head +there swung the sign of the Boar's Head. And yet—was +it likely or even possible that Sir Percevall +Hart could make such a vulgar haunt as this his +headquarters? Sir Percevall—the Queen's harbinger +and the friend of the Prime Minister!</p> + +<p>With a sinking heart and a face clouded with anxiety, +Droop propped his bicycle against the wall +within the passage and resolutely raised the heavy +latch.</p> + +<p>To his surprise, instead of the torrent of words +which he had expected to hear when he opened the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +door, complete silence reigned as he entered. The +fat man in the chair by the fire was still leaning backward, +but his tankard was now inverted above his +head, and a glance showed that his companions at +the long table were similarly employed.</p> + +<p>Copernicus turned about and closed the door very +carefully, unwilling to break the profound silence. +Then he tiptoed his way to the fire, and leaning forward +rubbed his hands before the crackling logs, +nervously conscious of six pairs of eyes concentrated +upon his back. Droop was not unfamiliar with the +bar-rooms of such a city as Boston, but he found an +Elizabethan tavern a very different sort of place. So, +although already warmer than desirable, he could +only stand half bent before a fire all too hot and +wonder what he should do next.</p> + +<p>Finally he mustered courage enough to turn about +and survey with shamefaced mien the tavern interior. +As he turned the four guests dropped their eyes with +painful unanimity and the drawer fell to scouring +a pewter mug with his apron. Only the boy perched +on the cask kept his eyes obstinately fixed on the +stranger.</p> + +<p>Droop now noticed for the first time that behind +the casks there was a snug recess containing a table +and two well-worn benches, evidently intended for +the entertainment of guests desirous of a <i>tête-à-tête</i>.</p> + +<p>Thither he at once directed his steps, and seating +himself upon one of the benches, looked about him +for a bell. He could hear the three men at the long<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +table whispering busily, and could see that they had +their heads together.</p> + +<p>The fat man stirred in his chair with a rolling +motion.</p> + +<p>"Drawer!" he called.</p> + +<p>"Here!" cried the drawer, bustling up to the fire.</p> + +<p>"A second tankard of that same sack, boy. Bustle, +bustle!"</p> + +<p>"I must first to my mistress, sir," was the reply. +"Nothing for credit, sir, save by permission."</p> + +<p>"A pox upon thee!" growled the thirsty man. "On +thee and thy mistress, too!"</p> + +<p>Muttering and shaking his head, the ponderous +guest stretched forth his legs, closed his eyes, and +composed himself for a nap.</p> + +<p>The drawer tipped a wink to the grinning pot-boy +on the cask, and then bustled over to Droop's table, +which he proceeded to wipe vigorously with his apron.</p> + +<p>"Did you call, sir?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Copernicus. "Bring me a schooner of +light lager."</p> + +<p>The drawer's busy apron hand stopped at once and +its owner leaned hard on the table.</p> + +<p>"What command gave you, sir?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Marry—a schooner of lager—light, forsooth!" +Droop repeated.</p> + +<p>"Cry you mercy, sir," said the drawer, straightening +up, "this be the Boar's Head Tavern, sir. What +may your worship require by way of food and +drink?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> + +<p>"These old-timers beat all creation for ignorance," +muttered Droop. Then, looking up into the man's +face, he called for one drink after another, watching +hopefully for some sign of answering intelligence.</p> + +<p>"Give me a Scotch high-ball. No? Then a gin +sling. Hot Tom and Jerry, then. Marry, an egg +flip, i' faith! Ain't got 'em? Get me a brandy smash—a +sherry cobbler—a gin rickey—rock and rye—a +whisky sour—a mint julep! What! Nothin'? What +in thunder <i>do</i> ye sell, then?"</p> + +<p>The drawer scratched his head, and then grinned +suddenly and gave vent to a dry laugh.</p> + +<p>"Well said! Well said, master! The jest is a +merry one—call me a Jew else!" Then, sobering +as briskly as he had taken to laughing: "Will you +have a cup of sack, master, to settle the stomach +after fasting—or a drop of Canary or Xeres or a +mug of ale, perchance——"</p> + +<p>"That's right, by my halidom!" Droop broke in. +"Bring me some ale, waiter."</p> + +<p>The drawer whisked away and returned in a few +moments with a huge power tankard topped with a +snowy foam.</p> + +<p>"That's the stuff!" said Droop, smacking his lips. +He half-emptied the beaker, and then, turning to the +drawer:</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me," he said, "if I can find a man +by the name of Hart here—Sir Percevall Hart?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Percevall," said the drawer, in an undertone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +"Why, there's your man, master. The fat knight +snoring by yon fire."</p> + +<p>"What!" exclaimed Droop. "The man who—" +He broke off and stared awhile in silence. Finally, +shaking his head: "Never would have thought it!" +he said.</p> + +<p>Copernicus lapsed into meditation and the drawer +withdrew. At length Droop roused himself with a +shake.</p> + +<p>"Won't do no good to set here doin' nothin'," he +muttered. Then, swallowing the remainder of his +ale, he drew his letter of introduction from his pocket +and walked back to the fireplace.</p> + +<p>The knight, who was not sleeping very soundly, +slightly opened one eye, and to his surprise, beheld +a letter which Droop held almost under his nose.</p> + +<p>Sitting up straight and now fully awake, Sir Percevall +stared first at Copernicus and then at the +letter.</p> + +<p>"A letter!" he exclaimed. "For me?"</p> + +<p>"Verily, yea," Droop replied, very politely.</p> + +<p>The knight opened the letter slowly and turned +so that the light from a window fell full upon it.</p> + +<p>"What's here!" he exclaimed. "This direction is +to my Lord Burleigh."</p> + +<p>"Yep—oh, yes, yea!" said Droop, confusedly. +"But you was to read it—peruse it, you wot—Bacon +said as much. He said you knew the lord and could +take me around, forsooth, and sorter interduce me, +ye see."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> + +<p>With leisurely gravity, Sir Percevall slowly read +the note, and then, returning it with a polite gesture:</p> + +<p>"This letter hath reference to certain monopolies," +he said. "My cousin Bacon doth write in high terms +of your skill and high merit, Master—Master——"</p> + +<p>"Droop, sir. Copernicus Droop's my name."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes! And the service you require—? I beg +your indulgence, but, sooth to say, being nigh starved +of late in this tavern of ill repute, my poor wits have +grown fat. I am slow of apprehension, Master +Wither——"</p> + +<p>"Droop, sir—Droop."</p> + +<p>"Nay—cry you mercy—Master Droop."</p> + +<p>"Why, now, Sir Percy," said Copernicus, with oily +grace, "ef you wouldn't mind, I'd be proud ef you'd +set down over yonder, perchance, and have a glass +with me. We'd be more private then, and I could +make this hull business clear to ye. What say ye, +sir?"</p> + +<p>"Why, there's my hand, Master Dupe—Droop," +said the knight, his face brightening mightily. "Five +yards are a mile for a man of my girth, Master +Droop, but praise God such words as these of yours +cheer my heart to still greater deeds than faring a +mile afoot."</p> + +<p>Slowly and painfully the corpulent knight drew +himself to his feet, and with one hand bearing affectionately +but heavily on Droop's shoulder, he shuffled +over to the recess and seated himself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What ho, there! Drawer!" he shouted, as soon +as they were comfortably disposed face to face.</p> + +<p>"Anon, sir, anon!" came the familiar reply, and +the drawer, who had just served two new guests at +the long table, now hurried over to the nook behind +the casks.</p> + +<p>"A quart of sack, villain!" said Sir Percevall.</p> + +<p>"And for you, sir?" said the drawer, turning to +Droop.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yea, bring me the same." He had no idea +what sack was, but he felt that in all probability it +was a mild beverage, or no one would order a quart +at once.</p> + +<p>"And this same letter, now," Sir Percevall began. +"To warn you truly, friend, this matter of monopolies +hath something of an ill savor in the public mind. +What with sweet wines, salt, hides, vinegar, iron, oil, +lead, yarn, glass, and what not in monopoly, men +cry out that they are robbed and the Queen's advisers +turn pale at the very word."</p> + +<p>He interrupted himself to give his attention to the +wine which had just been placed before him.</p> + +<p>"To better acquaintance!" he said, and the two +drank deep together.</p> + +<p>Droop smacked his lips critically and turned up +his eyes for greater abstraction. The wine was pleasant +to the palate, he thought, but—well—it wasn't +whiskey.</p> + +<p>"Of this letter, now," the knight resumed, anxious +to discover his own advantage in Droop's plans.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +"'Twere vain for you, a stranger to the Lord High +Treasurer, to accost him with it. A very circumspect +and pragmatical old lord, believe me. Not every +man hath admittance to him, I promise ye. As for +me, why, God 'ild you, man! 'twas but yesterday a +fortnight Burleigh slapped me o' the shoulder and +said: 'Percevall, ye grow fat, you rogue—on the +word of a Cecil!' Oh, trust me, Master Droop; my +lord much affects my conversation!"</p> + +<p>"Is that a fact?" said Droop, admiringly. "It certainly +ain't done your conversation any harm to be +affected that way."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then, an you jest, Master——"</p> + +<p>"Not a mite!" exclaimed Copernicus, anxiously. +"Verily, nay, friend. Trust me—never!"</p> + +<p>"Or never trust thee!" quoth the knight, with a +twinkle in his eye.</p> + +<p>Droop took refuge in his wine, and Sir Percevall +imitating him, the two emptied their cups together +and sighed with a simultaneous content.</p> + +<p>"That's not bad swizzle," said Droop, patronizingly. +"But, as fer me, give me whiskey every time!"</p> + +<p>"Whiskey!" said the knight with interest. "Nay, +methought I knew every vintage and brew, each label +and brand from Rhine to the Canaries. But this +name, Master Droop, I own I never heard. Whiskey, +say you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, now, do tell!" said Droop, drawing forth +his flask of nineteenth-century rye, "never heerd o' +whiskey, eh? Never tasted it, either, I s'pose?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How should I taste it, man, not knowing its very +name?"</p> + +<p>"Verily, thou sayest sooth!" said Droop. Then, +glancing all about him: "Ain't there any smaller +glasses 'round here?"</p> + +<p>"Drawer—ho, drawer, I say!" roared the knight.</p> + +<p>"Here, sir—here! What is your pleasure?"</p> + +<p>"The pleasure is to come, rogue! Fetch hither +two of yon scurvy glass thimbles you wot of. Hostess +calls them cordial glasses. Haste now! Scramble, +varlet!"</p> + +<p>When the two small glasses were brought, Droop +uncorked his flask and poured each full to the brim.</p> + +<p>"Th' ain't any seltzer in this one-hoss town," he +said, "so I can't make ye a high-ball. We'll jest hev +to drink it straight, Sir Knight. Here's luck! Drink +hearty!" and with a jerk of hand and head he tossed +the spirits down his throat at a gulp and smacked his +lips as he set down his glass.</p> + +<p>Sir Percevall followed his friend's movements with +a careful eye and imitated him as exactly as possible, +but he did not escape a coughing fit, from which he +emerged with a purple face and tear-filled eyes.</p> + +<p>"Have another?" said Droop, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"A plague on queezy gullets!" growled the knight. +"Your spirits sought two ways at once, Master Droop, +and like any other half-minded equivocal transaction, +contention was the outcome. But for the whiskey, +mind you—why, it hath won old Sir Percevall's +heart. Zounds, man! Scarce two fingers of it, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +yet I feel the wanton laugh in me a'ready. Good +fellows need good company, my master! So pour +me his fellow! So—so!"</p> + +<p>They drank again, and this time the more cautious +knight escaped all painful consequences.</p> + +<p>"Look you, Master Droop," said the delighted old +toper, leaning back against the wall as he beamed +across the table at his companion, "look you! An +you have a butt of this same brew, Sir Percevall +Hart is your slave, your scullion, your foot-boy! +Why, man, 'tis the elixir of life! It warms a body +like a maid's first kiss! Whence had you it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, they make it by the million gallons a year +where I come from," Droop replied. "Have another. +Take it with hot water and sugar—I mean honey."</p> + +<p>The advice was followed, and while they sipped +the enlivening decoction, Copernicus explained his +plans touching the patenting of his phonograph and +bicycle. When he concluded his relation, the knight +leaned back and gazed at him with an affectionate +squint.</p> + +<p>"See, now, bully rook, if I take you," he said. +"It behooves you to have fair inductance at court. +For this ye come to Sir Percevall Hart, her Majesty's +harbinger and—though he says so himself—a good +friend to Cecil. Now, mark me, lad. Naught do I +know or care of thy 'funny craft' or 'bicycle.' Master +Bacon is a philosopher and you have here his certificate. +Say I well—what?"</p> + +<p>He paused and Droop nodded.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good—and so to better. Naught care I, or know +I, or should or could I trow, being a man of poetical +turn and no base mechanic—no offence meant to +yourself, Master Droop. But this I do say—and now +mark me well—I say—and dare maintain it (and all +shall tell ye that is a fair maintenance and a good +champion), that for a sure and favorable inductance +to the favors of the court there's no man living takes +the wall o' Percevall Hart, Knight!"</p> + +<p>"Bacon told me as much," said Droop.</p> + +<p>"And he told thee well, my master. Frank is a +good lad, though vain, and his palm itcheth. So to +terms, eh? Now, methinks 'twere but equity and +good fellowship for two such as we are to go snacks, +eh? Cut through the middle—even halves, bully—even +halves! How say you?"</p> + +<p>"You don't mean," said Droop, "that you'd want +half the profits, jest fer introducin' me to Lord +What's-is-name, do ye?"</p> + +<p>"With a small retainer, of course, to bind fast. +Say—oh, a matter of twenty gold angels or so."</p> + +<p>"Why, blame your confounded overstretched +skin!" cried Droop, hotly, "I'd sooner drop the hull +darn thing! You must take me fer a nat'ral born +fool, I guess!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, then—'twixt friends," said the knight, +soothingly. "'Twixt friends, say we remit one half +the profits. Procure me but the angels, Master +Droop, and drop the remainder."</p> + +<p>"As many devils sooner!" said Droop, indignantly. +"I'll take my pigs to another market."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> + +<p>He rose and beckoned to the drawer.</p> + +<p>"Nay, then, why so choleric!" pleaded the knight, +leaning anxiously across the table. "What terms do +ye offer, Master Droop? Come, man, give a show of +reason now—name your terms."</p> + +<p>It was to this point that Copernicus had counted +upon bringing the helpless knight, who was far from +a match for a Yankee. He had driven his own +bargain with Bacon, and he now resolved that Bacon's +friend should fare no better. In pursuit of +this plan, he moved from his seat with a sour face.</p> + +<p>"I don't feel much like takin' up with a man who +tries to do me," he grumbled, shaking his head and +beckoning again to the drawer.</p> + +<p>"Do thee, man—do thee!" cried the knight. +"Why, an I do thee good, what cause for grief?" +Spreading forth his two fat hands, he continued: +"Spake I not fairly? An my offer be not to thy +taste—say thine own say. What the devil, man; +must we quarrel perforce?"</p> + +<p>Droop scratched his head and seemed to hesitate. +Finally he slapped the table with his open hand and +cried with a burst of generosity:</p> + +<p>"I'll tell ye what I <i>will</i> do. I've got two quart +bottles of that same ripe whiskey, and I'll give 'em +both to ye the day the Queen gives me my patents!"</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay!" said the knight, straightening himself +with dignity. "'Twere a mere fool's prank at +such terms!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right!" cried Droop, turning away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hold—hold! Not so fast!" cried Sir Percevall. +But Copernicus merely slapped his hat on his head +and started toward the door.</p> + +<p>Sir Percevall leaned over the table in flushed desperation.</p> + +<p>"Listen, friend!" he cried. "Wilt make a jolly +night of it in the bargain?"</p> + +<p>Droop stopped and turned to his companion.</p> + +<p>"D'ye mean right now?"</p> + +<p>A nod was the reply.</p> + +<p>"And you'll take my offer if I do?"</p> + +<p>The knight sat upright and slapped the table.</p> + +<p>"On my honor!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Then it's a go!" said Droop.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">HOW SHAKESPEARE WROTE HIS PLAYS</h3> + + +<p>As Francis Bacon returned to London from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +Peacock, Phœbe had stood at the foot of the steps +leading into the courtyard and watched him depart. +She little foresaw the strange adventure into which +he was destined to lead her sister. Indeed, her +thoughts were too fully occupied with another to +give admittance to Rebecca's image.</p> + +<p>Her lover was in danger—danger to his life and +honor. She knew he was to be saved, yet was not +free from anxiety, for she felt that it was to be her +task to save him. To this end she had sent Bacon +with his message to Copernicus. She believed now +that a retreat was ready for young Fenton. How +would her confidence have been shaken could she +have known that Copernicus had already left the +Panchronicon and that Bacon had been sent in vain!</p> + +<p>In ignorance of this, she stood now at the foot of +the stairs and let her thoughts wander back to the +day before, dwelling with tenderness upon the memory +of her lover's patient attendance upon her in +that group of rustic groundlings. With a self-reproachful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +ache at the heart she pictured herself as +she had sat far up in the gallery gazing downward +with every faculty centred upon the stage, while he, +thinking only of her——</p> + +<p>She started and looked quickly to right and left. +Why, it was here, almost upon these very stones, that +he had stood. Here she had seen him for one moment +at the last as she was leaving her seat. He +was leaning upon a rude wooden post. She sought +it with her eyes and soon caught sight of it not ten +feet away.</p> + +<p>Then she noticed for the first time that she was +not alone. A young fellow in the garb of a hostler +stood almost where Guy had been the day before. +He paid no attention to Phœbe, for he was apparently +deeply preoccupied in carving some device +upon the very post against which Guy had leaned.</p> + +<p>Already occupied with her own tenderness, she +was quick to conclude that here, too, was a lover, +busy with some emblem of affection. Had not Orlando +cut Rosalind's name into the bark of many a +helpless tree?</p> + +<p>Clasping her hands behind her, she smiled at the +lad with head thrown back.</p> + +<p>"A wager, lad!" she cried. "Two shillings to a +groat thou art cutting a love-token!"</p> + +<p>The fellow looked up and tried to hide his knife. +Then, grinning, he replied:</p> + +<p>"I'll no take your challenge, mistress. Yet, i' good +faith, 'tis but to crown another's work."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then, pointing with his blade:</p> + +<p>"See where he hath carved letters four," he continued. +"Wi' love-links, too. A watched un yestre'en, +whiles the play was forward. A do but carve +a heart wi' an arrow in't."</p> + +<p>She blushed suddenly, wondering if it were Guy +who had done this. Stepping to the side of the stable-boy, +she examined the post.</p> + +<p>The letters were in pairs. They were M. B. and +G. F.</p> + +<p>Her feeling bubbled over in a little half-stifled +laugh.</p> + +<p>"Silly!" she exclaimed. Then to the boy: "Know +you him who cut the letters?" she asked, with affected +indifference.</p> + +<p>"Nay, mistress," he replied, falling again to his +work, "but he be a rare un wi' the bottle."</p> + +<p>"The bottle!" Phœbe exclaimed, in amazement. +Then quite sternly: "Thou beliest him, knave! No +more sober—" She checked herself, suddenly conscious +of her indiscretion.</p> + +<p>"Why, how knowest his habits?" she asked, more +quietly.</p> + +<p>"A saw un, mistress, sitting in the kitchen wi' +two bottles o' Spanish wine. Ask the player else."</p> + +<p>"The player! What player?"</p> + +<p>"Him as was drinking wi' him. Each cracked his +bottle, and 'twas nip and tuck which should call first +for the second."</p> + +<p>So Guy had spent the evening—those hours when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +she was tenderly dreaming of him with love renewed—drinking +and carousing with some dissolute actor!</p> + +<p>Within her Phœbe Wise and Mary Burton struggled +for mastery of her opinion.</p> + +<p>What more natural than that a poor lad, tired +with waiting on his feet for hours for one look from +the mistress who disdained him, should seek to forget +his troubles quaffing good wine in the company +of some witty player? This was Mary's view.</p> + +<p>What! To leave the presence of his sweetheart—the +girl to whom he had just written that penitent +letter—to go fresh from the inspiration of all that +should uplift a lover, and befuddle his brains with +"rum," gossiping with some coarse-grained barn-stormer! +So Phœbe railed.</p> + +<p>"Who was the player?" she asked, sharply.</p> + +<p>"Him as wore the long white beard," said the boy. +"The Jew, to wit. Eh, but a got his cess, the runnion!"</p> + +<p>"Shylock!" she cried, in spite of herself.</p> + +<p>So this was the gossiping barn-stormer, the dissolute +actor. Will Shakespeare it was with whom her +Guy had spent the evening! Phœbe Wise could but +capitulate, and Mary Burton took for a time triumphant +possession of the heart that was Guy Fenton's.</p> + +<p>"Have the players left the Peacock?" she asked, +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Nay, mistress, know you not that they play to-night +at the home of Sir William Percy?"</p> + +<p>"Then they are here, at the inn, boy?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A saw him that played the Jew i' the garden not +a half hour since. He's wont to wander there and +mutter the words of the play. I'll warrant him there +now, mistress."</p> + +<p>Here, indeed, was good fortune! Shakespeare was +in the garden. He should tell her where to find Guy +that she might warn him. Quickly she turned away +and hurried out of the yard and around the north L, +beyond which was the garden, laid out with ancient +hedges and long beds of old-fashioned flowers.</p> + +<p>Now this same garden was the chief pride of the +neighborhood, the more especially that gardens were +but seldom found attached to inns in those days. +Here there had been a partly successful attempt to +imitate Italian landscape gardening; but the elaborately +arranged paths, beds, and parterres, with their +white statues and fountains, lost their effectiveness +closed in as they were by high walls of vine-covered +brick. It was rumored that once a stately peacock +had here once flaunted his gorgeous plumage, giving +his name to the inn itself—but this legend rested +upon little real evidence.</p> + +<p>When Phœbe reached the entrance to the main +walk she stopped and looked anxiously about her. +Nowhere could she see or hear anyone. Sadly disappointed, +she moved slowly forward, glancing quickly +to right and left, still hoping that he whom she sought +had not utterly departed.</p> + +<p>She reached a small stone basin surmounted by a +statue of Plenty, whose inverted horn suggested a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +copious stream long since choked up. Behind the +fountain there was a stone bench with a high back. +Peeping behind this, Phœbe found that a second seat +was placed beyond the back, inviting a seclusion +whose expected purpose was distinctly suggested by +a sly little Cupid on a pedestal, holding one forefinger +to his smiling lips.</p> + +<p>At this moment Phœbe was conscious of a distant +mumbling to her left, and, glancing quickly in that +direction, she saw a plainly dressed, bareheaded man +of medium height just turning into the main walk +out of a by-path, where he had been hidden from +view by a thick hedge of privet. His eyes were +turned upon some slips of paper which he held in +one hand.</p> + +<p>Could this be he? Shakespeare! The immortal +Prince of Poets!</p> + +<p>To Mary Burton, the approach of a mere player +would have given little concern. But Phœbe Wise, +better knowing his unrivalled rank, was seized with +a violent attack of diffidence, and in an instant she +dodged behind the stone seat and sat in hiding with +a beating heart.</p> + +<p>The steps of the new-comer slowly approached. +Phœbe knew not whether pleasure or a painful fear +were stronger within her. Here was indeed the culmination +of her strange adventure! There, beyond +the stone which mercifully concealed her, He was +approaching—the wondrous Master Mind of literature.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<p>Would he go by unheeding? Could she let him +pass on without one glance—one word? And yet, +how address him? How dare to show her face?</p> + +<p>The slow steps ceased and at the same time he +fell silent. She could picture him gazing with unconscious +eyes at the fountain while within he listened +to the Genius that prompted his majestic +works. Again the gravel creaked, and then she knew +that he had seated himself on the other bench. The +two were sitting back to back with only a stone partition +between them.</p> + +<p>To her own surprise, the diffidence which had oppressed +her seemed now to be gradually passing off. +She still realized the privilege she enjoyed in thus +sharing his seat, but perhaps Mary Burton was gaining +her head as well as her heart, for she positively +began to think of leaving her concealment, contemplating +almost unmoved a meeting with her demi-god.</p> + +<p>Then he spoke.</p> + +<p>"The infant first—then the school-boy," he muttered. +"So far good! The third age—m—m—m—" +There was a pause before he proceeded, slowly and +distinctly:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> +"Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,<br /> +Sighing his heart out in a woful ballad— +</div> + +<p>m—m—m—Ah!—</p> + +<div class="blockquote">Made to his mistress' eyebrow."</div> + +<p>He chuckled audibly a moment, and then, speaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +a little louder:</p> + +<p>"Fenton to the life, poor lad!" he said.</p> + +<p>Phœbe sat up very straight with a startled movement. +Oh, to think of it! That she should have +forgotten Sir Guy! To have sought Will Shakespeare +for the sole purpose of tracing her threatened +lover—and then to forget him for a simple name—a +mere celebrity!</p> + +<p>Unconscious of the small inward drama so near +at hand, the playwright proceeded with his composition.</p> + +<p>"'Sighing his heart out,'" he mused. "Nay, that +were too strong a touch for Jacques. Lighter—lighter." +Then, after a moment of thought: "Ay—ay!" +he chuckled. "'Sighing like furnace'—poor +Fenton! How like a very furnace in his dolor! Yet +did he justice to the Canary. So—so! To go back +now:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> +"Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,<br /> +Sighing like furnace with a woful ballad<br /> +Made to his mistress' eyebrow." +</div> + +<p>'Twill pass, in sooth, 'twill pass!"</p> + +<p>Lightly Phœbe climbed onto the bench and peeped +over the back. She looked down sidewise upon the +author, who was writing rapidly in an illegible hand +upon one of his paper slips.</p> + +<p>There was the head so familiar to us all—the +domelike brow, the long hair hanging over the ears.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +This she could see, but of his face only the outline +of his left cheek was visible. Strange and unexpected +to herself was the light-hearted calm with +which, now that she really saw him, she could contemplate +the great poet.</p> + +<p>He ceased writing and leaned against the back, +gazing straight ahead.</p> + +<p>"The third age past, what then? Why the soldier, +i' faith—the soldier——"</p> + +<div class="blockquote">Full of strange oaths"</div> + +<p>came a mischievous whisper from an invisible +source—</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;">"and bearded like the pard.</span><br /> +Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,<br /> +Seeking the bubble reputation<br /> +Even in the cannon's mouth." +</div> + +<p>For a moment the poet sat as though paralyzed +with astonishment. Then rising, he turned and faced +the daring girl.</p> + +<p>Now she saw the face so well remembered and yet +how little known before. Round it was and smooth, +save for the small, well-trimmed mustache above the +beautifully moulded mouth and chin—sensitive yet +firm. But above all, the splendid eyes! Eyes of +uncertain color that seemed to Phœbe mirrors of +universal life, yet just now full of a perplexed admiration.</p> + +<p>For she was herself the centre of a picture well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +fitted to arrest a poet's attention. Her merry face +was peering over the smooth white stone, with four +pink finger-tips on each side clinging for greater security. +Behind her a cherry-tree was dropping its +snowy blossoms, and two or three had fallen unheeded +upon her wavy brown hair, making a charming +frame for the young eyes and tender lips whose +smiling harmony seemed to sing with arrant roguishness.</p> + +<p>With a trilling laugh, half-suppressed, she spoke +at last.</p> + +<p>"A penny for your thoughts, Master Shakespeare!" +she said.</p> + +<p>The mood of the astonished player had quickly +yielded to the girl's compelling smile, and his fine +lips opened upon a firm line of teeth.</p> + +<p>"'Show me first your penny,'" he quoted.</p> + +<p>"I'll owe you it."</p> + +<p>He laughed and shook his head.</p> + +<p>"That would I not my thoughts, damsel."</p> + +<p>"Pay them, then. Pay straightway!" she pouted, +"and see the account be fair."</p> + +<p>"Nay, then," he replied, bowing half-mockingly, +"an the accountant be so passing fair, must not the +account suffer in the comparison?"</p> + +<p>The face disappeared for a moment, and then +Phœbe emerged from behind the stone rampart, +dusting her hands off daintily one against the +other.</p> + +<p>"Did not your wit exceed your gallantry, sir," she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +said, courtesying slightly, "I had had my answer +sooner."</p> + +<p>Shakespeare was somewhat taken aback to see a +developed young woman, evidently of gentle birth, +where he had thought to find the mere prank-loving +child of some neighboring cottager. Instantly his +manner changed. Bowing courteously, he stepped +forward and began in a deferential voice:</p> + +<p>"Nay, then, fair mistress, an I had known——"</p> + +<p>"Tut—tut!" she interrupted, astonished at her own +boldness. "You thought me a chit, sir. Let it pass. +Pray what think you of my lines?"</p> + +<p>"They seemed the whisper of a present muse," he +said, gayly, but with conviction in his voice. "'Twas +in the very mood of Jacques, my lady—a melancholy +fellow by profession——"</p> + +<p>"Holding that light which another might presently +approve"—she broke in—"and praise bestowing on +ill deserts in the mere wantonness of a cynic wit! +What!—doth the cap fit?"</p> + +<p>The amazement in her companion's face was irresistible, +and Phœbe burst forth into a spontaneous +laugh of purest merriment.</p> + +<p>"'A hit—a hit—a very palpable hit!'" she quoted, +clapping her hands in her glee.</p> + +<p>"Were not witches an eldritch race," said Shakespeare, +"you, mistress, might well lie under grave +suspicion."</p> + +<p>"What—what! Do I not fit the wizened stamp +of Macbeth's sisters three?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> + +<p>Shakespeare flung out his arms with a gesture of +despair.</p> + +<p>"Yet more and deeper mystery!" he cried. "My +half-formed plots—half-finished scraps—the clear +analysis of souls whose only life is here!" he tapped +his forehead. "Say, good lady, has Will Shakespeare +spoken, perchance, in sleep—yet e'en so, how +could——"</p> + +<p>He broke off and coming to her side, spoke earnestly +in lowered tones.</p> + +<p>"Tell me. Have you the fabled power to read the +soul? Naught else explains your speech."</p> + +<p>"Tell me, sir, first the truth," said Phœbe. "In all +sadness, Master Shakespeare, have you had aught +from Francis Bacon? I mean by way of aid in writing—or +e'en of mere suggestion?"</p> + +<p>"Bacon—Francis Bacon," said he, evidently at a +loss. "There was one Nicholas Bacon——"</p> + +<p>"Nay, 'tis of his son I speak."</p> + +<p>"Then, in good sooth, I can but answer 'No,' mistress; +since that I knew not even that this Nicholas +had a son."</p> + +<p>Phœbe heaved a sigh of relief and then went on +with a partial return of her former spirit.</p> + +<p>"Then all's well!" she exclaimed. "I am a muse +well pleased; and now, an you will, I'll teach you +straight more verses for your play."</p> + +<p>"As you like it," said Shakespeare, bowing, half-amused +and wholly mystified.</p> + +<p>"Good!" she retorted, brightly. "'As You Like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +It' shall you name the piece, that henceforth this our +conversation you may bear in mind."</p> + +<p>Smiling, he took up his papers and wrote across +the top of one of them "As You Like It" in large +characters.</p> + +<p>"Now write as I shall bid you," Phœbe said. +"Pray be seated, good my pupil, come."</p> + +<p>Then, seated there by Phœbe's side, the poet committed +to paper the whole of Jacques's speech on "The +Seven Ages," just as Phœbe spoke it from her memory +of the Shakespeare club at home.</p> + +<p>When he ceased scribbling, he leaned forward with +elbows on his knees and ran his eyes slowly and wonderingly +over each line in turn, whispering the +words destined to become so famous. Phœbe leaned +a little away from her companion, resting one hand +on the bench, while she watched his face with a smile +that slowly melted to the mood of dreamy meditation. +They sat thus alone in silence for some time, so still +that a wren, alighting on the path, hopped pecking +among the stones at their very feet.</p> + +<p>At length the poet, without other change in position, +turned his head and looked searchingly and +seriously into the young girl's eyes. What amazing +quality was it that stamped its impress upon the +maiden's face—a something he had never seen or +dreamed of? Even a Shakespeare could give no +name to that spirit of the future out of which she +had come.</p> + +<p>"Is it then true?" he said, in an undertone. "Doth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +the muse live? Not a mere prompting inward sense, +but in bodily semblance visiting the poet's eye? Or +art thou a creature of Fancy's colors blended, feigning +reality?"</p> + +<p>Never before had the glamour of her situation so +penetrated her to whom these words were addressed. +She was choked by an irrepressible sob that was half +a laugh, and a film of moisture obscured her vision. +With a sudden movement, she seized the poet's hand +and pressed it to her lips. Then, half-ashamed, she +rose and turned away to toy with the foliage of a +shrub that stood beside the path.</p> + +<p>"Nay, then!" Shakespeare cried, with something +like relief in his voice, "you are no insubstantial spirit, +damsel. Yet would I fain more clearly comprehend +thee!"</p> + +<p>There was a minute's pause ere Phœbe turned +toward the speaker, that spirit of mischief dancing +again in her eyes and on her lips.</p> + +<p>"I am Mary Burton, of Burton Hall," she +said.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he exclaimed. And then again: "Oh!" with +much of understanding and something of disappointment.</p> + +<p>"Is all clear now?" she asked, roguishly.</p> + +<p>Shakespeare rose, and, shaking one finger playfully +at her, he said:</p> + +<p>"Most clear is this—that Sir Guy knows well to +choose in love; although, an I read you aright, my +Mistress Mockery, his wife is like to prove passing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +mettlesome. For the rest, your lover knows poor +Will Shakespeare's secrets—his Macbeth and half-written +Hamlet. 'Tis with these you have made so +bold to-day! My muse, in sooth! Oh, fie—fie!" +And he shook his head, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! In very sooth!" said Phœbe, with merry +sarcasm. "And was it, then, Guy who brought me +these same lines of Jacques the melancholy?" And +she pointed to the papers in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Nay, there I grant you," said the poet, shaking +his head, while the puzzled expression crept once +more into his face.</p> + +<p>"Ay, there, and in more than this!" Phœbe exclaimed. +"You have spoken of Hamlet, Master +Shakespeare. Guy hath told me something of that +tragedy. This Prince of Denmark is a most unhappy +wight, if I mistake not. Doth he not once +turn to thought of self-murder?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, mistress. I have given Sir Guy my thoughts +on the theme of Hamlet, and have told him I planned +a speech wherein should be made patent Hamlet's +desperate weariness of life, sickened by brooding on +his mother's infamy."</p> + +<p>"'To be or not to be, that is the question,'" quoted +Phœbe. "Runs it not so?"</p> + +<p>"This passes!" cried Shakespeare, once more all +amazement. "I told not this to your friend!"</p> + +<p>"Nor did I from Guy receive it," said Phœbe. +"Tell me, Master Shakespeare, have you yet brought +that speech to its term?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," he replied, "nor have I found the task an +easy one. Much have I written, but 'tis all too +slight. Can you complete these lines, think you?"</p> + +<p>"My life upon it!" she cried, eagerly.</p> + +<p>He shook his head, smiling incredulously.</p> + +<p>"You scarce know what you promise," he said. +"Can one so young—a damsel, too—sound to its bitter +deeps the soul of Hamlet!"</p> + +<p>"Think you so?" Phœbe replied, her eyes sparkling. +"Then what say you to a bargain, Master Shakespeare? +You know where Sir Guy Fenton may be +found?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, right well! 'Tis a matter of one hour's ride."</p> + +<p>"So I thought," she said. "Hear, then, mine offer. +I must perforce convey a message straight that +touches the life and honor of Sir Guy. To send my +servant were over-dangerous, for there may be +watchers on my going and coming. Will you go, +sir, without delay, if that I speak for you the missing +lines completing young Hamlet's soliloquy?"</p> + +<p>Shakespeare looked into her face for a few moments +in silence.</p> + +<p>"Why, truly," he said at last, "I have here present +business with my fellow-player Burbidge." He +paused, and then, yielding to the pleading in her +eyes: "Yet call it a bargain, mistress," he said. +"Speak me the lines I lack and straightway will I +take your word to Sir Guy."</p> + +<p>"Now blessings on thee!" cried Phœbe. "Give me +straight the line you last have written."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span></p> + +<p>At once the poet began:</p> + +<p>"When he himself might his quietus make——"</p> + +<p>"With a bare bodkin"—broke in the excited girl. +"Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat beneath +a weary life, but that the thought of something +after death—the undiscovered country from whose +bourne no traveller returns—puzzles the will, and +makes us rather bear the ills we have than fly to +others that we know not of. Thus conscience does +make cowards of us all, and so the native hue of +resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of +thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment +by this regard their currents turn awry and lose the +name of action."</p> + +<p>"No more—no more!" cried Shakespeare, in an +ecstasy. "More than completely hast thou made thy +bargain good, damsel unmatchable! What! Can it +be! Why here have we the very impress of young +Hamlet's soul—'To grunt and sweat beneath a weary +life'—feel you not there compunction and disgust, +seeing in life no cleanly burden, but a 'fardel' truly, +borne on the greasy shoulders of filthy slaves!"</p> + +<p>He turned and paced back and forth upon the +gravel, repeating without mistake and with gestures +and accents inimitable the lines which Phœbe had +dictated. She watched him, listening attentively, +conscious that what she saw and heard, though given +in a moment, were to be carried with her forever; +convinced as well that she was for something in this, +and thankful while half afraid.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> + +<p>Reaching the end of the soliloquy, Shakespeare +turned to the maiden, who was still standing, backed +by the warm color of a group of peonies.</p> + +<p>"Nay, but tell me, damsel," he cried, appealingly. +"Explain this power! Art thou, indeed, no other +than Mary Burton?"</p> + +<p>How refuse this request? And yet—what explanation +would be believed? Perhaps, if she had time, +she thought, some intelligible account of the truth +would occur to her.</p> + +<p>"And have you forgot your bargain so soon?" she +said, reproachfully shaking her head. "Away, friend, +away! Indeed, the matter is urgent and grave. If, +when you return, you will ask for Mary Burton, +knowing your task fulfilled, she may make clear for +you what now must rest in mystery."</p> + +<p>"You say well," he replied. "Give me your message, +and count fully on Will Shakespeare to carry +it with all despatch and secrecy."</p> + +<p>Phœbe's face grew grave as she thought of all that +depended on her messenger. She stepped closer to +her companion and glanced to right and left to make +sure they were still alone. Then, drawing from her +finger a plain gold ring, she offered it to her companion, +who took it as she spoke.</p> + +<p>"If you will show this to Sir Guy," she said, "he +will know that the case is serious. It beareth writing +within the circle—'Sois fidèle'—do you see?"</p> + +<p>"Be faithful—ay."</p> + +<p>"'Twill be an admonition for you both," said<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +Phœbe, with a faint smile. "Tell him to be in the +lane behind the Peacock garden at sunset to-morrow +even with two good horses, one for himself and one +for me. Tell him to come alone and to travel by +back ways. Bid him in my name—in God's name—close +till then, trusting in me that there is need. +Tell him to obey now, that later he may have the +right to command."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Shakespeare. "And now good-by +until we meet again."</p> + +<p>A parting pressure of the hand, and he turned to +go to the stables. She stood by the fountain musing, +her eyes fixed on the entrance gate of the garden +until at length a horseman galloped past. He rose +in his stirrups and waved his hand. She ran forward, +swept by a sudden dread of his loss, waving her hands +in a passionate adieu.</p> + +<p>When she reached the gate no one was in sight.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">HOW THE FAT KNIGHT DID HOMAGE</h3> + + +<p>On Rebecca's arrival with the royal attendants at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +Greenwich Palace, the Queen had ordered that she +be given a splendid suite of apartments for her own +use, and that she be constantly attended by a number +of young gentlewomen assigned to her establishment. +The news soon spread through the palace that an +American princess or empress had arrived, and she +was treated in every way on the footing of a sort of +inferior royalty. Elizabeth invited her to share +every meal with her, and took delight in her accounts +of the manners and customs of the American +aborigines.</p> + +<p>As for Rebecca, she finally yielded to the conviction +that Elizabeth was not Victoria, and found +it expedient to study her companions with a view to +avoiding gross breaches of etiquette. Of these, the +first which she corrected was addressing Elizabeth as +"Mrs. Tudor."</p> + +<p>In twenty-four hours the shrewd and resourceful +New England woman was able to learn many things, +and she rapidly found her bearings among the strange +people and stranger institutions by which she was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +surrounded.</p> + +<p>Seated in her own "presence chamber," as she +called it, surrounded by her civil and assiduous attendants, +she discovered a charm in being constantly +taken care of which was heightened by the contrast +which it presented with her usually independent +habits of life. The pleasing effect of novelty had +never more strongly impressed her.</p> + +<p>Her anxiety in Phœbe's behalf had been dispelled +when she learned that Isaac Burton was expected at +the palace, and was to bring his family with him. +With diplomatic shrewdness, she resolved to improve +every opportunity to win the Queen's favor, in order +that when the time came she might have the benefit +of her authority in removing her younger sister from +her pretended relatives.</p> + +<p>It was about five in the afternoon of the day succeeding +her adventure on the Thames, and Rebecca +sat near a window overlooking the entrance court. +She was completing the knitting upon which she had +been engaged when Droop made his first memorable +call on her in Peltonville.</p> + +<p>On either side of Rebecca, but on stools set somewhat +lower than her chair, were her two favorites, +the Lady Clarissa Bray, daughter of Walter Bray, +Lord Hunsforth, and the Honorable Lady Margaret +Welsh, daughter of the Earl of March.</p> + +<p>Clarissa was employed in embroidering a stomacher +whose green, gold, and russet set off her dark<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +curls very agreeably. The Lady Margaret was playing +a soft Italian air upon the cithern, which she +managed with excellent taste, to the entertainment +of her temporary mistress and her half dozen attendants.</p> + +<p>Rebecca's needles moved in time with the graceful +measure of the music, while her head nodded in unison, +and she smiled now and then.</p> + +<p>As the air was concluded she let her hands sink +for a moment into her lap, turning to bend an approving +look upon the fair young musician.</p> + +<p>"There, now!" she said. "I declare, Miss Margaret, +that's real sweet music. I'm much obliged to +ye, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>Margaret arose and courtesied, blushing.</p> + +<p>"Would your Highness that I play again?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"No, thank ye," said Rebecca, resuming her knitting. +"The's no sort o' use in drivin' folks to death +as are kind to ye. Sit right down an' rest now, an' +I'll tell ye all a story thet hez a bearin' right on that +point."</p> + +<p>She turned to the four maids of honor seated behind +her.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>"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——"</p> + +<p>Clarissa's wondering eyes caught the speaker's attention +and she coughed.</p> + +<p>"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 +Slocum took a notion to 'nvite me down to Keene +fer a little visit. Phœbe—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'——"</p> + +<p>An involuntary and unanimous gasp of amazement +from her fair auditors cut Rebecca short at this point.</p> + +<p>"Well," she said, a little anxiously, "what's the +matter? Anythin' wrong?"</p> + +<p>The Lady Clarissa ventured to voice the general +sentiment.</p> + +<p>"Did we hear aright, your Highness?" she asked. +"Said you—'wash up the dishes'?"</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Rebecca, conscious for the first time of +her slip, "did that puzzle ye?"</p> + +<p>"Do queens and princesses perform menial offices +in America?" asked the Honorable Lady Margaret.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>There was some whispering among the girls at this, +and Rebecca's ears caught the expressions "passing +strange" and "most wonderful" more than once.</p> + +<p>She waited until the first excitement thus produced +had subsided and then proceeded.</p> + +<p>"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——"</p> + +<p>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 stitch. Mechanically she +glanced down into the court-yard, where there was +now a large assemblage, and uttered an exclamation +of astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Gracious alive!" she cried. "If there ain't a bicycle! +Well, well, don't that look nat'ral, now! +Makes me feel homesick."</p> + +<p>She turned to her companions, each of whom was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +ceremoniously standing, but all showing clearly in +their faces the curiosity which consumed them.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>The obedience to this summons was prompt and +willing, and Rebecca turned again to observe those +who came with the mysterious bicycle.</p> + +<p>"Land o' sunshine!" she exclaimed, "did ye ever +see sech a fat man as that! Do any of you girls +know who 'tis?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis Sir Percevall Hart, harbinger to the Queen, +I ween," Clarissa replied.</p> + +<p>"Gracious!" said Rebecca, anxiously. "I do hope +now he ain't bringin' any <i>very</i> bad news!"</p> + +<p>"Wherefore should he, your Highness?" said Clarissa.</p> + +<p>"Why, if he's a harbinger of woe—ain't that what +they call 'em?" she spoke, with some timidity.</p> + +<p>"Nay," said the Lady Margaret. "Sir Percevall +is reputed a wit and a pleasant companion, your +Highness. He is harbinger to the Queen."</p> + +<p>"An' who's the man with him in black togs an' +rumpled stockin's?" said Rebecca. "The one holdin' +the bicycle?"</p> + +<p>"Mean you him holding the two bright wheels, +your Highness?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Lady Margaret could not answer, nor could any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Then turning to Lady Margaret again, she continued:</p> + +<p>"Would you mind runnin' down to ask who that +man is, Miss Margaret? Seems to me I know that +bicycle."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Queen and her retinue were obliged to pass +across the courtyard on the way to the apartment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +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 passed them, and even +at times to receive petitions.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 untitled knights and gentlemen. +These were followed by barons, then earls, and lastly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>The Queen's train was very long and was carried +by a marchioness, whose plain attire set off the magnificence +of royalty.</p> + +<p>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 passed, unless she pleased to extend her hand +to raise him up.</p> + +<p>On each side of this main procession there was a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +single file of five and twenty gentlemen pensioners, +each carrying a gilt battle-axe.</p> + +<p>The remainder of the procession consisted of a +train of court ladies all dressed in white and nearly +destitute of ornaments. Evidently the Royal Virgin +would suffer no rivalry in dress from those of her +own sex.</p> + +<p>Just behind Elizabeth and to one side, in such a +position as to be within easy reach for consultation, +walked the Lord High Treasurer, William Cecil, +Baron of Burleigh. It was to this nobleman that +his nephew, Francis Bacon, had addressed the letter +which he had given to Copernicus Droop.</p> + +<p>By dint of much squeezing and pushing, Sir Percevall +made his way to the front of the waiting line, +and, as Elizabeth approached, he dropped painfully +to his knees, and, with hat in hand, gazed earnestly +into the Queen's face, not daring to speak first, but +with a petition writ large in every feature.</p> + +<p>Now, Elizabeth was most jealous of her dignity, +and valued her own favors very highly. In her eyes +it was downright impertinence at a time like this +for anyone to solicit the honor of her attention by +kneeling before he was noticed.</p> + +<p>Knowing this, Burleigh, who recognized the +knight and wished him well, motioned to him earnestly +to rise. Alarmed, Sir Percevall made a desperate +effort to obey the hint, and, despite his huge +bulk, would perhaps have succeeded in regaining his +feet without attracting the notice of the Queen but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +for the impatient movement of the crowd behind +him. Unfortunately, however, he had but half risen +when the bustling multitude moved forward a little +against his expansive rear. The result was disastrous.</p> + +<p>Sir Percevall lost his balance, and, feeling himself +toppling, threw his hands out forward with a cry and +fell flat on his face.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth was at this moment addressing a few +gracious words to a white-haired courtier, who +kneeled among those gathered on the right of her +line of progress. Startled by the loud cry of the +falling knight, she turned swiftly and saw at her +feet a man of monstrous girth struggling in vain +to raise his unwieldy form. His plumed hat had +rolled to some distance, exposing a bald head with +two gray tufts over the ears. His sword stood on +its hilt, with point in air, and his short, fat legs made +quick alternate efforts to bend beneath him—efforts +which the fleshy knees successfully resisted.</p> + +<p>The helpless, jerking limbs, the broad, rolling +body, and the mixture of expletives and frantic apologies +poured forth by the prostrate knight turned the +Queen's first ready alarm to irrepressible laughter, +in which the bystanders joined to their great relief. +Droop alone was grave, for he could only see in this +accident the ruin of his plans.</p> + +<p>"Now, by the rood!" cried the Queen, as soon as +she could speak distinctly, "fain would we see your +face, good gentleman. Of all our subjects, not one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +doth us such low obeisance!" Then, beckoning to +those of her gentleman pensioners who stood nearest:</p> + +<p>"Raise us yon mighty subject of ours, whose greatness +we might in our majesty brook but ill did not +his humble bearing proclaim a loyal submission."</p> + +<p>Four gentlemen, dropping their gilt axes, hastened +to Sir Percevall's aid, raising him by the arms and +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"Enough—enough, lads!" cried the knight, when +they had got him to his knees. "Let it not be said +that Sir Percevall Hart dared to tempt erect the +dreadful glance of majesty. Here let him lowly +bend beneath the eyes that erstwhile laid him low."</p> + +<p>Still holding him, the four gentlemen turned their +eyes to the Queen for orders, and Sir Percevall, +clasping his mud-stained hands, addressed himself +directly to Elizabeth, in whose still laughing face he +foresaw success.</p> + +<p>"O Majesty of England!" he cried. "Marvel not +at this my sudden fall—for when, with more than +royal glory is linked the potency of virgin loveliness, +who can withstand!"</p> + +<p>"Why, how now, Sir Knight!" said Elizabeth, banteringly. +"Are we less lovely or less awful now than +a moment since? You seem at least one half restored."</p> + +<p>"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."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>She turned to Burleigh, who smiled and, bowing, +replied:</p> + +<p>"So witty a flight to so sound a conclusion Cecil +could not have winged alone, but where majesty +teacheth wisdom, who shall refuse it!"</p> + +<p>"'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."</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span></p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"Jiminy!" said Droop, looking curiously about +him, "ain't this A No. 1, though! Et must be fun +to be a queen, eh, Percevall?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>Droop paid little heed to his companion, for his +eyes were busy with the unwonted scene before him.</p> + +<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +they'd hev let him hev his grub before the Queen—and +out of her own dish, too!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Droop whistled low.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>Turning to a gentleman at his elbow:</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me, sir," he said, "who is yonder +stranger in outlandish apparel?"</p> + +<p>Following the speaker's eyes, the gentleman stared +for a few moments and then replied:</p> + +<p>"Marry, sir, it can but be the American princess +with her retinue. They say that her Majesty much +affects this strange new-comer."</p> + +<p>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,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +while awaiting admission, Rebecca gazed about her +with a curiosity still unsatisfied.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>At that very moment, a voice close beside her +made her start violently.</p> + +<p>"Well—well! I declare! Rebecca Wise, how +do you do!"</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>"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 <i>now</i>, Mr. Droop."</p> + +<p>Droop was taken aback at her manner and at the +sarcastic emphasis laid upon the word "now."</p> + +<p>"Why—why—of course," he stammered. "I +thought you was lost."</p> + +<p>"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 <i>must</i> be glad to see me!"</p> + +<p>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 persuad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span>ing +Rebecca that it was Francis Bacon whom she +had pursued by mistake.</p> + +<p>"Poor young man!" Rebecca exclaimed, in a low +voice of contrition. "Why, he must hev took me +fer a lunatic!"</p> + +<p>Then she suddenly recollected her young attendants, +and turned so as to bring them on one hand +and Droop on the other.</p> + +<p>"Young ladies," she said, primly, "this here's Mr. +Copernicus Droop, from America."</p> + +<p>With one accord the six girls dropped their eyes +and courtesied low.</p> + +<p>"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.</p> + +<p>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.</p> + +<p>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 +occasioned by the sight of his sadly rumpled +hose. His confusion was complete.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now, tell me," said Rebecca, curiously, "whatever +brought you up here? Hev ye some errand +with the Queen?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Inside track!"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca shook her head.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>At this moment the page returned.</p> + +<p>"Her Majesty awaits your Royal Highness within," +he said, bowing deeply.</p> + +<p>Droop's jaws fell apart and his eyes opened wide.</p> + +<p>"Royal Highness!" he murmured.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>In a moment she was gone, leaving Copernicus +rooted to the floor and dumb with amazement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span></p> + +<p>Someone touched his elbow and, turning, he saw +Sir Percevall, with the light of triumph on his fat +face.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">THE FATE OF SIR PERCEVALL'S SUIT</h3> + + +<p>In the inner chamber, Elizabeth was seated at a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>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 <i>World</i>, which he was perusing with +an expression of the utmost perplexity.</p> + +<p>"Well, Master Guido," said the Queen, "what +make you of it?"</p> + +<p>"Maestà eccellentissima—" the scholar began.</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay. Speak good plain English, man," +said the Queen. "The Lady Rebecca hath no Italian."</p> + +<p>Messer Guido bowed and began again, speaking +with a scarcely perceptible accent.</p> + +<p>"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<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +of phrases, identifying customs, manners, +dress, and the like."</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"Tea!"</p> + +<p>"If I may venture—" said Guido, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Speak, Messer Guido."</p> + +<p>"Why, it would appear, your Majesty, that tea is +a sort of stuff for dresses—silk, belike."</p> + +<p>"Stuff for dresses!" said Rebecca. "Stuff and nonsense! +Why, tea's a drink!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"You see, Maestà—your Majesty—it is clear. A +'tea-gown' is shown in the drawing—a gown made +of tea."</p> + +<p>Rebecca had opened her mouth to overwhelm the +poor savant with the truth when a page entered and +stood before the Queen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, sirrah," said Elizabeth, "what is your +message?"</p> + +<p>"Sir Percevall Hart craves an audience, your +Majesty, for himself and his American friend and +client."</p> + +<p>"Another American!" exclaimed the Queen.</p> + +<p>"Copernicus Droop!" cried Rebecca.</p> + +<p>"Know you Sir Percevall's friend, Lady Rebecca?" +asked Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, your Majesty. He and I came over +together from Peltonville. I believe he's after a +patent."</p> + +<p>"A patent? What mean you? Doth he ask for +a patent of nobility—a title? Can this be the suit +of the fat knight?"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>"Know you aught of this, my lord?" said Elizabeth, +turning to Burleigh.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, your Majesty. I have to-day received +from Sir Percevall Hart a letter written by my +nephew, Francis Bacon——"</p> + +<p>"Bacon! What! Ay—methinks we know somewhat +of this same Francis," said the Queen, grimly. +"A member of Parliament, is he not?"</p> + +<p>"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——"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No—no—Droop!" cried Rebecca. "Copernicus +Droop."</p> + +<p>The baron bowed.</p> + +<p>"That this Master Droop desires the grant of a +monopoly in——"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>The baron bent before the storm and, bowing, +remained silent. Rebecca, however, could scarce see +the justice of the Queen's position.</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Astonishment was depicted in every face save in +that of the Queen, whose little eyes were now turned +upon her sister sovereign in anger.</p> + +<p>"Harkye, Lady Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Is it +the custom to take the Queen to task in your realm?"</p> + +<p>Rebecca's reply came pat. The type was prepared +beforehand, and she answered now with a clear conscience.</p> + +<p>"Why, of course. We talk jest as we feel like to +all the queens there is in my country."</p> + +<p>The equivocation in this reply must have struck<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +the Queen, for she said, without taking her eyes +from Rebecca's face:</p> + +<p>"And, prithee, Lady Rebecca, how many queens be +there in America? We begin to doubt if royalty be +known there."</p> + +<p>Again Messer Guido evinced signs of an anxious +desire to speak, and Rebecca shrewdly took advantage +of this at once.</p> + +<p>"Messer Guido can tell you all 'bout that, I guess," +she said.</p> + +<p>Elizabeth turned her eyes to the savant.</p> + +<p>"What knowledge have you of this, learned doctor?" +she asked, coldly.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>The Queen's face cleared a little at this, and Guido +proceeded with increased animation:</p> + +<p>"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 Tender<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span>loin.' +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."</p> + +<p>"This hath a plausible bent, Messer Guido," said +Elizabeth, with more good-nature. "Lady Rebecca, +can you better explain this matter of the Czar?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," Rebecca replied, with perfect truth. +"Mister Guido must have a fine mind to understand +things like that!"</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>Then, turning again to Guido, she said:</p> + +<p>"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."</p> + +<p>With a bow, Guido stepped to one side and, carefully +folding the newspaper, drew from his bosom +his tablets and prepared to obey.</p> + +<p>All eyes turned curiously to the door as it opened +to admit the two suitors, who were followed by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> +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.</p> + +<p>The fat knight was about to kneel to kiss the royal +hand, but Elizabeth, smiling, detained him.</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"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!"</p> + +<p>"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?"</p> + +<p>"My liege," said Sir Percevall, "these things have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +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."</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, forsooth, your Majesty," Droop broke +in, "but would thou mind if I get up, my liege?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, rise, rise, Master Droop!" exclaimed the +Queen, smothering a laugh. "We find matter for +favor in your sponsor's speech. Can you more fully +state the nature of this petition?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am—your Majesty," said Droop, rising +and dusting off his knees. "I am the inventor of a +couple of things, forsooth, that are away ahead of the +age. Marry, yes! I call 'em a bicycle and a phonograph."</p> + +<p>"Well, did you ever!" murmured Rebecca, amazed +at this impudent claim to invention.</p> + +<p>Messer Guido paused in his writing and began to +unfold his precious American newspaper, while +Droop went on, encouraged by the attentive curiosity +which he had evidently excited in the Queen.</p> + +<p>"Now, the bicycle—or the bike, fer short—is a +kind of a wagon or vehycle, you wot. When you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +mount on it, you can trundle yerself along like all +possessed——"</p> + +<p>"Gramercy!" broke in the Queen, in a tone of +irritation. "What have we here! We must have +plain English, Master Droop. American idioms are +unknown to us."</p> + +<p>As Droop opened his mouth to reply, Guido +stepped forward with a great rustling of paper.</p> + +<p>"May it please your Gracious Majesty—" he panted, +eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Speak, Messer Guido."</p> + +<p>"I would fain question this gentleman, your Majesty, +touching certain things contained herein." He +shook the paper at arm's length and glared at Droop, +who returned the look with a calm eye.</p> + +<p>"You may proceed, sir," said Elizabeth.</p> + +<p>"Why, Master Droop, you that are the inventor +of this same 'bicycle,' how explain you this?"</p> + +<p>He thrust the paper under Droop's nose, pointing +to an advertisement therein.</p> + +<p>"Here," he continued, "here have we a picture +bearing the legend, 'Baltimore Bicycle—Buy No +Other'—" He paused, but before Copernicus could +speak he went on breathlessly: "And look on this, +Master Droop—see here—here! Another drawing, +this time with the legend, 'Edison's Phonographs.' +How comes it that you have invented these things? +Can you invent on this 21st day of May, in the year +of our Lord 1598, what was here set forth as early +as—as—" he turned the paper back to the first page,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +"as early as April—" he stopped, turned pale, and +choked. Droop looked mildly triumphant.</p> + +<p>"Well—well!" cried Elizabeth, "hast lost thy +voice, man?"</p> + +<p>"My liege," murmured the bewildered savant, +"the date—this document——"</p> + +<p>"Is dated in 1898," said Droop, solemnly. "This +here bike and phonograph won't be invented by anyone +else for three hundred years yet."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth frowned angrily and grasped the arms +of her chair in an access of wrath which, after a +pause, found vent in a torrent of words:</p> + +<p>"Now, by God's death, my masters, you will find +it ill jesting in this presence! What in the fiend's +name! Think ye, Elizabeth of England may be +tricked and cozened—made game of by a scurvy +Italian bookworm and a witless——"</p> + +<p>The adjectives and expletives which followed may +not be reported here. As the storm of words progressed, +growing more violent in its continuance, +Droop stood open-mouthed, not comprehending the +cause of this tirade. Of the others, but one preserved +his wits at this moment of danger.</p> + +<p>Sir Percevall, well aware that the Queen's fury, +unless checked, would produce his and his client's +ruin, determined to divert this flood of emotion into +a new channel. With the insight of genius, the fat +knight realized that only a woman's curiosity could +avert a queen's rage, and with what speed he could +he stumbled backward to where Droop had left his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +exhibits. He lifted the box containing the phonograph +and, taking the instrument out, held it on +the palm of his huge left hand and bent his eyes upon +it in humble and resigned contemplation.</p> + +<p>The quick roving eye of the angry Queen caught +sight of this queer assemblage of cogs, levers, and +cylinder, and for the first time her too-ready tongue +tripped. She looked away and recovered herself to +the end of the sentence. She could not resist another +look, however, and this time her words came +more slowly. She paused—wavered—and then fixed +her gaze in silence upon the enigmatical device. +There was a unanimous smothered sigh as the bystanders +recognized their good fortune. Guido, +frightened half to death, slipped unobserved out of +a side door, and was never seen at Greenwich again. +Nor has that fatal newspaper been heard from since.</p> + +<p>"What may that be, Sir Percevall?" the Queen +inquired at length, settling back in her chair as comfortably +as her ruff would permit.</p> + +<p>"This, my liege, is the phonograph," said the +knight, straightening himself proudly.</p> + +<p>"An my Greek be not at fault," said the Queen, +"this name should purport a writer of sound."</p> + +<p>Sir Percevall's face fell. He was no Greek scholar, +and this query pushed him hard. Fortunately for +him, Elizabeth turned to Droop as she concluded +her sentence.</p> + +<p>"Hath your invention this intent, Master Droop?" +she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Verily, I guess you've hit it—I wot that's right!" +stammered the still frightened man.</p> + +<p>A very audible murmur of admiration passed from +one to another of the assembled courtiers and ladies-in-waiting. +These expressions reached the ears of +the Queen, for whom they were indeed intended, +and the consciousness of her acumen restored Elizabeth +entirely to good-humor.</p> + +<p>"The conceit is very novel, is it not, my lord?" +she said, turning to Baron Burleigh.</p> + +<p>"Novel, indeed, and passing marvellous if achieved, +your Majesty," was the suave reply.</p> + +<p>"How write you sounds with this device, Master +Droop?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, thusly, ma'am—your Majesty," said Droop, +with renewed courage. "One speaketh, you wot—talketh-like +into this hole—this aperture." He +turned and pointed to the mouth-piece of the instrument, +which was still in Sir Percevall's hands. "Hevin' +done this, you wot, this little pin-like pricketh or +scratcheth the wax, an' the next time you go over +the thing, there you are!"</p> + +<p>Conscious of the lameness of this explanation, +Droop hurried on, hoping to forestall further questions.</p> + +<p>"Let me show ye, my liege, how she works, in +sooth," he said, taking the phonograph from the +knight. Looking all about, he could see nothing at +hand whereon to conveniently rest the device.</p> + +<p>"Marry, you wouldn't mind ef I was to set this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +right here on your table, would ye, my liege?" he +asked.</p> + +<p>Permission was graciously accorded, and, depositing +the phonograph, Droop hurried back to get his +records. Holding a wax cylinder in one hand, he +proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Now, your Majesty can graciously gaze on this +wax cylinder," he said. "On here we hev scrawled—written—a +tune played by a cornet. It is 'Home, +Sweet Home.' Ye've heerd it, no doubt?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, the title is not familiar," said the Queen, +looking about her. With one accord, the courtiers +shook their heads in corroboration.</p> + +<p>"Is that so? Well, well! Why, every boy and +gal in America knows that tune well!" said Droop.</p> + +<p>He adjusted the cylinder and a small brass megaphone, +and, having wound the motor, pressed the +starting-button. Almost at once a stentorian voice +rang through the apartment:</p> + +<p>"Home, Sweet Home—Cornet Solo—By Signor +Paolo Morituri—Edison Record."</p> + +<p>The sudden voice, issuing from the dead revolving +cylinder, was so unexpected and startling that several +of the ladies screamed and at least one gentleman +pensioner put his hand to his sword-hilt. Elizabeth +herself started bolt upright and turned pale under +her rouge as she clutched the arms of her chair. Before +she could express her feelings the cornet solo +began, and the entire audience gradually resumed its +wonted serenity before the close of the air.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Marvellous beyond telling!" exclaimed Elizabeth, +in delight. "Why, this contrivance of yours, Master +Droop, shall make your name and fortune throughout +our realm. Have you many such ingenious gentlemen +in your kingdom, Lady Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, dear me, yes!" said Rebecca, somewhat contemptuously. +"Copernicus Droop ain't nobody in +America."</p> + +<p>Droop glanced reproachfully at his compatriot, +but concluded not to give expression to his feelings. +Accordingly, he very quickly substituted another +cylinder, and turned again to the Queen.</p> + +<p>"Now, your Majesty," said he, "here's a comic +monologue. I tell you, verily, it's a side-splitter!"</p> + +<p>"What may a side-splitter be, Master Droop?"</p> + +<p>"Why, in sooth, somethin' almighty funny, you +know—make a feller laugh, you wot."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth nodded and, with a smile of anticipation, +which was copied by all present, prepared to be +amused.</p> + +<p>Alas! The monologue was an account of how a +farmer got the best of a bunco steerer in New York +City, and was delivered in the esoteric dialect of the +Bowery. It was not long before willing smiles gave +place to long-drawn faces of comic bewilderment, +and, although Copernicus set his best example +by artificial grins and pretended inward laughter, +he could evoke naught but silence and bored +looks.</p> + +<p>"Marry, sir," said Elizabeth, when the monologue<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +was at an end, "this needs be some speech of an +American empire other than that you come from. +Could you make aught of it, Lady Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin' on airth!" was the reply. "Only a word +now an' then about a farmer—an' somethin' about +hayseed."</p> + +<p>"Now, here's a reg'lar bird!" said Droop, hastily, +as he put in a new cylinder.</p> + +<p>"Can you thus record e'en the voices of fowls?" +said the Queen, with renewed interest.</p> + +<p>Hopeless of explaining, Droop bowed and touched +the starting-button. The announcement came at +once.</p> + +<p>"Liberty Bells March—Edison Record," and after +a few preliminary flourishes, a large brass band could +be heard in full career.</p> + +<p>This proved far more pleasing to the Queen and +her suite.</p> + +<p>"So God mend us, a merry tune and full of harmony!" +said the Queen.</p> + +<p>"But that ain't all, your Majesty," said Droop. +"Here's a blank cylinder, now." He adjusted it as +he spoke and unceremoniously pushed the instrument +close to the Queen. "Here," he said, "jest you talk +anythin' you want to in there and you'll see suthin' +funny, I'll bet ye!" He was thoroughly warmed to +his work now, and the little court etiquette which +he had acquired dropped from him entirely.</p> + +<p>The Queen's eager interest had been so aroused +that she was unconscious of his too familiar manner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +Leaning over the phonograph as Droop started the +motor, she looked about her and said, with a titter: +"What shall we say? Weighty words should grace +so great an occasion, my lords."</p> + +<p>"Oh, say the Declaration of Independence or the +'Charge of the Light Brigade'!" Droop exclaimed. +"Any o' them things in the school-books!"</p> + +<p>Elizabeth saw that the empty cylinder was passing +uselessly and wasted no time in discussion, but began +to declaim some verses of Horace.</p> + +<p>"M—m—m—" exclaimed Droop, doubtfully. "I +don't know as this phonograph will work on Latin +an' Greek!"</p> + +<p>The Queen completed her quotation and, sitting +back again in her chair:</p> + +<p>"Now, Master Droop, we have done our part," she +said.</p> + +<p>Droop readjusted the repeating diaphragm and +started the motor once more. There were two or +three squeaks and then an affected little chuckle.</p> + +<p>"What shall we say?" it began. "Weighty words +should grace so great an occasion, my lords."</p> + +<p>Elizabeth laughed a little hysterically to hear her +unstudied phrase repeated, and then, with a look of +awe, listened to the repetition of the verses she had +recited.</p> + +<p>"Can any voice be so repeated?" she asked, seriously, +when this record was completed.</p> + +<p>"Anyone ye please—any ye please!" said the delighted +promoter, visions of uncounted wealth danc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span>ing +in his head. "Now, here's a few words was +spoken on a cylinder jest two or three weeks ago +by Miss Wise," he continued, hunting through his +stock of records. "Ah, here it is! It's all 'bout +Mister Bacon—I daresay you know him." The +Queen looked a little stern at this. "Tells all 'bout +him, I believe. I ferget jest what it said, but we +can soon see."</p> + +<p>The cylinder was that before which Phœbe had +read an extract from the volume on Bacon's supposed +parentage and his writings while she was at the +North Pole. Little did Droop conceive what a train +he was unconsciously lighting as he adjusted the +cylinder in place. As he said, he had forgotten the +exact purport of the extract in question, but, even +had he recollected it, he would probably have so little +understood its terrific import that his course would +have been the same. Ignorant of his danger, he +pushed the starting-button and looked pleasantly at +the Queen, whose dislike of anything having to do +with Francis Bacon had already brought a frown to +her face.</p> + +<p>All too exactly the fateful mechanism ground out +the very words and voice of Phœbe:</p> + +<div class="microspace"> </div> + +<p>"It is thus made clear from the indubitable evidence +of the plays themselves, that Francis Bacon +wrote the immortal works falsely ascribed to William +Shakespeare, and that the gigantic genius of this man +was the result of the possession of royal blood. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +this unacknowledged son of Elizabeth Tudor, Queen +of England, was made manifest to all countries and +for all centuries the glorious powers inherent in the +regal blood of England."</p> + +<div class="microspace"> </div> + +<p>As the fearful meaning of these words was developed +by the machine, amazement gave place to consternation +in those present and consternation to abject +terror. Each fear-palsied courtier looked with +pale face to right and left as though to seek escape. +The fat knight, hitherto all complacency, listening +to this brazen traducer of the Queen's virgin honor, +seemed to shrink within himself, and his very clothing +hung loose upon him.</p> + +<p>Droop and Rebecca, ignorant of the true bearing +of the spoken words, gazed in amazement from one +to another until, glancing at the Queen, their eyes +remained fixed and fascinated.</p> + +<p>The unthinkable insult implied in the words repeated +was trebled in force by being spoken thus +publicly and in calm accents to her very face. She—the +daughter of Henry the Eighth; she—Elizabeth +of England—the Virgin Queen—to be thus +coolly proclaimed the mother of this upstart barrister!</p> + +<p>As a cyclone approaches, silent and terrific, visible +only in the swift swirling changes of a livid and +blackened sky, so the fatal passion in that imperial +bosom was known at first only in the gleaming of her +black eyes beneath contorted brows and the spas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span>modic +changes that swept over the pale red-painted +face.</p> + +<p>The danger thus portended was clear even to the +bewildered Droop, and, before the instrument had +said its say, he began to slip very quietly toward the +door.</p> + +<p>As the speech ended, Elizabeth emitted a growl +that grew into a shriek of fury, and, with her hair +actually rising on her head, she threw herself bodily +upon the offending phonograph.</p> + +<p>In her two hands she raised the instrument above +her, and with a maniac's force hurled it full at the +head of Copernicus Droop.</p> + +<p>Instinctively he dodged, and the mass of wood and +steel crashed against the door of the chamber, bursting +it open and causing the two guards without to +fall back.</p> + +<p>Droop saw his chance and took it. Turning, with +a yell he dashed past the guards and across the antechamber +to the main entrance-hall. The Queen, +choked with passion, could only gasp and point her +hand frantically after the fleeing man, but at once +her gentlemen, drawing their swords, rushed in a +body from the room with cries of "Treason—treason! +Stop him! Catch him!"</p> + +<p>Down the main hallway and out into the silent +court-yard Droop fled on the wings of fear, pursued +by a shouting throng, growing every moment larger.</p> + +<p>As he emerged into the yard a sentry tried to +stop him, but, with a single side spring, the Yankee<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +eluded this danger and flung himself upon his bicycle, +which he found leaning against the palace wall.</p> + +<p>"Close the gates! Trap him!" was the cry, and +the ponderous iron gates swung together with a clang. +But just one second before they closed, the narrow +bicycle, with its terror-stricken burden, slipped +through into the street beyond and turned sharply +to the west, gaining speed every instant. Droop had +escaped for the moment, and now bent every effort +upon reaching the Panchronicon in safety.</p> + +<p>Then, as the tumult of futile chase faded into silence +behind the straining fugitive, there might have +been seen whirling through the ancient streets of +London a weird and wondrous vision.</p> + +<p>Perched on a whirl of spokes gleaming in the moonlight, +a lean black figure in rumpled hose, with flying +cloak, slipped ghostlike through the narrow streets +at incredible speed. Many a footpad or belated +townsman, warned by the mystic tinkle of a spectral +bell, had turned with a start, to faint or run at sight +of this uncanny traveller.</p> + +<p>His hat was gone and his close-cropped head bent +low over the handle-bars. The skin-tight stockings +had split from thigh to heel, mud flew from the tires, +beplastering the luckless figure from nape to waist, +and still, without pause, he pushed onward, ever onward, +for London Bridge, for Southwark, and for +safety. The way was tortuous, dark and unfamiliar, +but it was for life or death, and Copernicus Droop +was game.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">HOW REBECCA RETURNED TO NEWINGTON</h3> + + +<p>Within the palace all was confusion and dismay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +Only a very few knew the cause of this riot which +had burst so suddenly upon the wonted peace of the +place, and those few never in all their lives gave utterance +to what they had learned.</p> + +<p>Within the presence chamber Elizabeth lay on the +floor in a swoon, surrounded by her women only. +Among these was Rebecca, whose one thought was +now to devise some plan for overtaking Droop. From +the window she had witnessed his flight, and she had +guessed his destination. She felt sure that if Droop +reached the Panchronicon alone, he would depart +alone, and then what was to become of Phœbe and +herself?</p> + +<p>Just as the Queen's eyes were opening and her +face began to show a return of her passion with recollection +of its cause, Rebecca had an inspiration, and +with the promptitude of a desperate resolution, she +acted upon it.</p> + +<p>"Look a-here, your Majesty!" she said, vigorously, +"let me speak alone with you a minute and I'll save +you a lot of trouble. I know where that man keeps +more of them machines."</p> + +<p>This was a new idea to Elizabeth, who had destroyed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +as she supposed, the only existing specimen +of the malignant instrument.</p> + +<p>With a gesture she sent her attendants to the opposite +end of the room.</p> + +<p>"Now speak, woman! What would you counsel?" +she said.</p> + +<p>"Why, this," said Rebecca, hurriedly. "You don't +want any more o' them things talkin' all over London, +I'm sure."</p> + +<p>A groan that was half a growl broke from the +sorely tried sovereign.</p> + +<p>"Of course you don't. Well—I told you him and +I come from America together. I know where he +keeps all his phonograph things, and I know how to +get there. But you must be quick or else he'll get +there fust and take 'em away."</p> + +<p>"You speak truly, Lady Rebecca," said the Queen. +"How would you go—by what conveyance? Will +you have horses—men-at-arms?"</p> + +<p>"No, indeed!" was the reply. "Jest let me hev a +swift boat, with plenty o' men to row it, so's to go +real fast. Then I'll want a carryall or a buggy in +Southwark——"</p> + +<p>"A carryall—a buggy!" Elizabeth broke in. +"What may these be?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, any kind of a carriage, you know, 'cause I'll +hev to ride some distance into the country."</p> + +<p>"But why such haste?" asked the Queen. "Had +this American a horse?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He had a bicycle an' that's wuss," said Rebecca. +"But ef I can start right away and take a short cut +by the river while he finds his way through all them +dirty, dark streets, I'll get there fust an' get the rest +of his phonographs."</p> + +<p>"Your wit is nimble and methinks most sound," +said the Queen, decisively. Then, turning to the +group of ladies, she continued:</p> + +<p>"Send us our chamberlain, my Lady Temple, and +delay not, we charge you!"</p> + +<p>In ten minutes Rebecca found herself once more +upon the dark, still river, watching the slippery +writhings of the moonbeams' path. She was alone, +save for the ten stalwart rowers and two officers; but +in one hand was her faithful umbrella, while in the +other she felt the welcome weight of her precious +satchel.</p> + +<p>The barge cut its way swiftly up the river in +silence save for the occasional exclamations of the +officers urging the willing oarsmen to their utmost +speed.</p> + +<p>Far ahead to the right the huge bulk of the Tower +of London loomed in clumsy power against the deep +dark blue of the moonlit sky. Rebecca knew that +London Bridge lay not far beyond that landmark, +although it was as yet invisible. For London Bridge +she was bound, and it seemed to her impatience that +the lumbering vessel would never reach that goal.</p> + +<p>She stood up and strained her eyes through the +darkness, trying to see the laboring forms of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> +rowers in the shadow of the boat's side, but only the +creak of the thole-pins and the steady recurrent +splash and tinkle from the dripping oars told of their +labor.</p> + +<p>"Air ye goin' as fast as ye can?" she called. "Mr. +Droop'll get there fust ef ye ain't real spry."</p> + +<p>"If spry be active, mistress," said a voice from +the darkness aft, "then should you find naught here +amiss. Right lusty workers, these, I promise you! +Roundly, men, and a shilling each if we do win the +race!"</p> + +<p>"Ay—ay, sir!" came the willing response, and Rebecca, +satisfied that they could do no more, seated +herself again, to wait as best she might.</p> + +<p>At length, to her great delight, there arose from +the darkness ahead an uneven line of denser black, +and at a warning from one of the officers the boat +proceeded more cautiously. Rebecca's heart beat +high as they passed under one of the low stone arches +of the famous bridge and their strokes resounded in +ringing echoes from every side.</p> + +<p>Having passed to the upper side of the bridge, the +boat was headed for the south shore, and in a few +moments Rebecca saw that they had reached the side +of a wooden wharf which stood a little higher than +their deck. One of the officers leaped ashore with +the end of a rope in his hand, and quickly secured +the vessel. As he did so a faint light was seen proceeding +toward them, and they heard the steps of a +half dozen men advancing on the sounding planks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +It was the watch, and the light shone from a primitive +lantern with sides of horn scraped thin.</p> + +<p>"Who goes there?" cried a gruff voice.</p> + +<p>"The Queen's barge—in the service of her Majesty," +was the reply.</p> + +<p>The watchman who carried the lantern satisfied +himself that this account was correct, and then asked +if he could be of service.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, fellow," said he who had landed, "hast +seen one pass the bridge to-night astride of two +wheels, one before the other, riding post-haste?"</p> + +<p>There was a long pause as the watchman sought +to comprehend this extraordinary question.</p> + +<p>"Come—come!" cried the officer, who had remained +on the boat. "Canst not say yes or no, man?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, can I, master!" was the reply. "But you had +as well ask had I seen a witch riding across the moon +on a broomstick. We have no been asleep to dream +of flying wheels."</p> + +<p>"Well—well!" said he who had landed. "Go you +now straight and stand at the bridge head. We shall +follow anon."</p> + +<p>The watch moved slowly away and Rebecca was +helped ashore by the last speaker.</p> + +<p>"Our speed hath brought us hither in advance, +my lady," he said. "Now shall we doubtless come +in before the fugitive."</p> + +<p>"Well, I hope so!" said Rebecca. Then, with a +smothered cry: "Oh, Land o' Goshen! I've dropped +my umbrella!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> + +<p>They stooped together and groped about on the +wharf in silence for a few moments. The landing +was encumbered with lumber and stones for building, +and, as the moon was just then covered by a +thick cloud, the search was difficult.</p> + +<p>"I declare, ain't this provokin'!" Rebecca cried, +at length.</p> + +<p>"These beams and blocks impede us," said the officer. +"We must have light, perforce. Ho there! +The watch, ho! Bring your lanthorn!"</p> + +<p>"Why, 'tain't worth while to trouble the watchman," +said Rebecca. "I'll jest strike a light myself."</p> + +<p>She fumbled in her satchel and found a card of +old-fashioned silent country matches, well tipped +with odorous sulphur. The officer at her side saw +nothing of her movements, and his first knowledge +of her intention was the sudden and mysterious appearance +of a bluish flame close beside him and the +tingle of burning brimstone in his nostrils.</p> + +<p>With a wild yell, he leaped into the air and then, +half crazed by fear, tumbled into the boat and cut +the mooring-rope with his sword.</p> + +<p>"Cast off—cast off!" he screamed. "Give way, +lads, in God's name! A witch—a witch! Cast off!"</p> + +<p>A gentle breeze off the shore carried the sulphurous +fumes directly over the boat, and these, together +with their officer's terror-stricken tones and the sight +of that uncanny, sourceless light, struck the crew +with panic. Fiercely and in sad confusion did they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +push and pull with boat-hook and oar to escape from +that unhallowed vicinity, and, even after they were +well out in the stream, it was with the frenzy of +superstitious horror that they bent their stout backs +to their oars and glided swiftly down stream toward +Greenwich.</p> + +<p>As for Rebecca—comprehending nothing of the +cause of this commotion at first—she stood with open +mouth, immovable as a statue, watching the departure +of her escort until the flame reached her fingers. +Then, with a little shriek of pain, she flicked the +burnt wood into the river.</p> + +<p>"Well, if I ever!" she exclaimed. "I'm blest ef +I don't b'lieve those ninnies was scared at a match!"</p> + +<p>Shaking her head, she broke a second match from +her card, struck it, and when it burned clear, stooped +to seek her umbrella. It was lying between two +beams almost at her feet, and she grasped it thankfully +just as her light was blown out by the breeze.</p> + +<p>Then, with groping feet, she made her way carefully +toward the inshore end of the wharf, and soon +found herself in the streets of Southwark, between +London Bridge and the pillory. From this point she +knew her way to the grove where the Panchronicon +had landed, and thither she now turned a resolute +face, walking as swiftly as she dared by the light of +the now unobscured moon.</p> + +<p>"If Copernicus Droop ketches up with me," she +muttered, "I'll make him stop ef I hev to poke my +umbrella in his spokes."</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">HOW SIR GUY KEPT HIS TRYST</h3> + + +<p>For one hour before sunset of that same day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> +Phœbe had been patiently waiting alone behind the +east wall of the inn garden. As she had expected, +her step-mother had accompanied her father to London +that afternoon, and she found herself free for +the time of their watchfulness. She did not know +that this apparent carelessness was based upon knowledge +of another surveillance more strict and secret, +and therefore more effective than their own.</p> + +<p>The shadow of the wall within which she was +standing lengthened more and more rapidly, until, +as the sun touched the western horizon, the whole +countryside to the east was obscured.</p> + +<p>Phœbe moved out into the middle of the road +which ran parallel to the garden wall and looked +longingly toward the north. A few rods away, the +road curved to the right between apple-trees whose +blossoms gleamed more pink with the touch of the +setting sun.</p> + +<p>"Nothing—no one yet!" she murmured. "Oh, +Guy, if not for love, could you not haste for life!"</p> + +<p>As though in answer to her exclamation, there +came to her ears a faint tapping of horses' hoofs, and +a few moments later three horsemen turned the corner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +and bore down upon her.</p> + +<p>One glance was enough to show her that Guy was +not one of the group, and Phœbe leaped back into +the shadow of the wall. She felt that she must not +be seen watching here alone by anyone. As she stood +beneath the fringe of trees that stood outside of the +garden wall, she looked about for means of better +concealment, and quickly noticed a narrow slit in the +high brick enclosure, just wide enough for a man to +enter. It had been barred with iron, but two of the +bars had fallen from their sockets, leaving an aperture +which looked large enough to admit a slender +girl.</p> + +<p>Phœbe felt instinctively that the approaching +riders were unfriendly in their purpose and, without +pausing to weigh reasons, she quickly scrambled +through this accidental passage, not without tearing +her dress.</p> + +<p>She found herself within the garden and not far +from the very seat where she had hidden from Will +Shakespeare. How different her situation now, she +thought. Not diffidence, but fear, was now her +motive—fear for the man she loved and whom she +alone could save.</p> + +<p>While she listened there, half choked by the beating +of her own heart, she heard the three cavaliers +beyond the wall. Their horses were walking now, +and the three conversed together in easily audible +tones.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My life on it, Will," said one, "'twas here the +wench took cover!"</p> + +<p>"Thine eyes are dusty, Jack," replied a deep voice. +"'Twas farther on, was it not, Harry?"</p> + +<p>The horses stopped.</p> + +<p>"Ay—you are i' the right, Will," was the answer. +"By the same token, how could the lass be here and +we not see her? There's naught to hide a cat withal."</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay!" said Will. "Count upon it, Jack, +the maid fled beyond the turn yonder. Come on, +lads!"</p> + +<p>"I'll not stir hence!" said Jack, obstinately. "Who +finds the girl, catches the traitor, too. Go you two +farther, an ye will. Jack Bartley seeks here."</p> + +<p>"Let it be e'en so, Will," said Harry, the third +speaker. "Dismount we here, you and me. Jack +shall tie the nags to yon tree and seek where he will. +Do you and I creep onward afoot. So shall the maid, +hearing no footfall, be caught unaware."</p> + +<p>"Have it so!" said Will.</p> + +<p>Phœbe heard the three dismount and, trembling +with apprehension, listened anxiously for knowledge +of what she dared not seek to see.</p> + +<p>She heard the slow walk of the three horses, shortly +interrupted, and she knew that they were being +tethered. Then there was a murmur of voices and +silence.</p> + +<p>This was the most agonizing moment of that eventful +night for Phœbe. Strain her ears as she might, +naught could she hear but the shake of a bridle, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> +stamp of an occasional hoof, and the cropping of +grass. The next few seconds seemed an hour of +miserable uncertainty and suspense. She knew now +that she was watched, that perhaps her plans were +fully known, and all hope for her lover seemed past. +She had called him hither and he would walk alone +and unaided into the arms of these three mercenaries.</p> + +<p>She clasped her hands and looked desperately +about her as though for inspiration. To the right +an open sward led the eye to the out-buildings surrounding +the inn. To the left a dense thicket of +trees and bushes shut in the view.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she started violently. Her ear had +caught the snapping of a twig close at hand, beyond +the concealing wall. At the next moment she saw +a stealthy hand slip past the opening by which she +had entered, and the top of a man's hat appeared.</p> + +<p>Like a rabbit that runs to cover, she turned noiselessly +and dashed into the friendly thicket. Here +she stopped with her hand on her heart and glanced +wildly about her. Well she knew that her concealment +here could be but momentary. Where next +could she find shelter?</p> + +<p>A heap of refuse, stones and dirt, leaves and sticks, +was heaped against that portion of the wall, and at +sight of this a desperate plan crossed her mind.</p> + +<p>"'Tis that or nothing!" she whispered, and, still +under cover of the shrubbery, she hurried toward the +rubbish heap.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span></p> + +<p>In the meantime, Jack, whose quick eye had descried +that ancient opening in the wall, perceived by +neither of his companions, was standing just within +the wall gazing about for some clue to his prey's +location.</p> + +<p>Phœbe leaped upon the refuse heap and scrambled +to the top. To her dismay, there was a great crashing +of dead wood as she sank nearly to her knees in +the accumulated rubbish.</p> + +<p>Jack uttered a loud exclamation of triumph and +leaped toward the thicket. Poor Phœbe heard his +cry, and for an instant all seemed hopeless. But +hers was a brave young soul, and, far from fainting +in her despair, a new vigor possessed her.</p> + +<p>Grasping the limb of a tree beside her, she drew +herself up until, with one foot she found a firm rest +on the top of the wall. Then, forgetting her tender +hands and limbs, straining, gripping, and scrambling, +she knew not how, she flung herself over the wall +and fell in a bruised and ragged heap on the grass +beyond.</p> + +<p>When her pursuer reached the thicket, he was confounded +to find no one in sight.</p> + +<p>Phœbe lay for one moment faint and relaxed upon +the ground. The landscape turned to swimming silhouettes +before her eyes, and all sounds were momentarily +stilled. Then life came surging back in +a welcome tide and she rose unsteadily to her feet. +She walked as quickly as she could to where the three +horses stood loosely tied by their bridles to a tree.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +At any moment the man she feared might appear +again at the opening in the wall.</p> + +<p>She untied all three horses and, choosing a powerful +gray for her own, she slipped his bridle over her +arm so as to leave both hands free. Then, bringing +together the bridles of the other two, she tied them +together in a double knot, then doubled that, and +struck the two animals sharply with the bridle of +the gray. Naturally they started off in different directions, +and, pulling at their bridles, dragged them +into harder knots than her weak fingers could have +tied.</p> + +<p>She laughed in the triumph of her ingenuity and +scrambled with foot and knee and hand into place +astride of the remaining steed. Thus in the seclusion +of the pasture had she often ridden her mare +Nancy home to the barn.</p> + +<p>There was a shout of anger and amazement from +the road, and she saw the two men who had elected +to walk farther on running toward her.</p> + +<p>Turning her steed, she slapped his neck with the +bridle and chopped at his flanks with the stirrups +as best she could. The horse broke into an easy +canter, and for the moment she was free.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, Phœbe found herself virtually +without means for urging her steed to his best pace. +Accustomed as he was to the efficient severity of a +man's spurred heel, he paid little attention to her +gentle, though urgent, voice, and even the stirrups +were hardly available substitutes for spurs, since her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> +feet could not reach them and she could only kick +them flapping back against the horse's sides.</p> + +<p>Her one chance was that she might meet Sir Guy +in time, and she could only pray that the knots in +the bridles of the remaining horses would long defy +every effort to release them. As she turned the +curve among the apple-trees, she looked back and +saw that the horses had been caught and that all +three men were frantically tugging and picking with +fingers and teeth at those obstinate knots.</p> + +<p>Phœbe drew up for a moment a few yards beyond +the curve and broke off a long, slender switch from +an overhanging bough. Then, urging the horse forward +again, she picked off the small branches until +at length she had produced a smooth, pliant switch, +far more effective than bridle or stirrup. By the +help of this new whip, she made a little better speed, +but well she knew that her capture was only a matter +of time unless she could find her lover.</p> + +<p>Great was her joy, therefore, when she turned the +next curve in the road; for, straight ahead, not twenty +rods away, she saw Sir Guy approaching at a +canter, leading a second horse.</p> + +<p>By this time the twilight was deepening, and the +young cavalier gazed in astonishment upon the ragged +girl riding toward him astride, making silent gestures +of welcome and warning. Not until he was +within twenty yards of her did Sir Guy recognize his +sweetheart.</p> + +<p>"Mary!" he cried.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span></p> + +<p>Together they reined in their horses, and instantly +Phœbe slipped to the ground.</p> + +<p>"Quick, Guy—quick!" she exclaimed. "Help me +to mount yon saddle. Come—come!"</p> + +<p>Leaping at once from his horse, Sir Guy lifted +Phœbe to the back of the beast he had been leading, +which was provided with a side-saddle, the stirrup +of which carried a spur. Stopping only to kiss her +hand, he mounted his own steed, turned about, and +followed Phœbe, who had already set off at her best +speed. Even as they started, they heard a shout +behind them, and Phœbe knew that the pursuit had +begun in earnest.</p> + +<p>"What is it—who are they whom you flee?" asked +the young knight, as he came to Phœbe's side.</p> + +<p>"Men seeking thee, Guy—for reward! There is +a price on thy head, dear. For high treason! Oh, +may God aid us this night!"</p> + +<p>"High treason!" he exclaimed. Then, after a +pause, he continued, in a stern voice:</p> + +<p>"How many be they?"</p> + +<p>"Two."</p> + +<p>Sir Guy laughed in evident relief.</p> + +<p>"But two! By my troth, why should we fear them, +sweetheart?" he said. "An I be not a match for four +of these scurvy rascals, call me not knight!"</p> + +<p>"Alas—alas!" cried Phœbe, in alarm, as she saw +Sir Guy slacken his pace. "Stay not to fight, Guy. +Urge on—urge on! The whole countryside is +awake. How, then, canst thou better thee by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> +fighting two? Nay, on—on!" and she spurred again, +beckoning him after with an imperious hand.</p> + +<p>He yielded to her reasoning, and soon reached her +side again.</p> + +<p>"We must to London Bridge, Guy," Phœbe said. +"Know you a way back thither?"</p> + +<p>"Wherefore to London, sweet?" asked Guy. +"Were we not safer far afield? Why seek the shadow +of the Tower?"</p> + +<p>"One way is left thee," said she, with intense earnestness. +"A way that is known to me alone. Thereby +only canst thou escape. Oh, trust me—trust me, +dear heart! Only I can guide thee to safety and +to freedom!"</p> + +<p>"On, my Mary!" he cried, gayly. "Lead on! Thou +art my star!"</p> + +<p>For the moment both forgot the danger behind +them. The intoxication of an ideal and self-forgetting +trust—a merger of all else in tenderness—flooded +their souls and passed back and forth between +them in their mutual glances.</p> + +<p>Then came that pursuing shout again, much nearer +than before, and with a shock the two lovers remembered +their true plight.</p> + +<p>Sir Guy reined in his steed.</p> + +<p>"Halt—halt, Mary!" he commanded. "We must +conceal us here in this dell till that these fellows +pass us. Then back to London by the way we came. +There is no other road."</p> + +<p>Obedient now in her turn, Phœbe drew rein and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +followed her lover up the bed of a small stream +which crossed the road at this point. Behind a curtain +of trees they waited, and ere long saw their two +pursuers dart past them and disappear in a cloud of +dust down the road.</p> + +<p>"They will stop at the next dwelling to ask news +of us, and thus learn of our evasion," said Guy. "The +chase has but begun. Come, sweet, let us hasten +southward again."</p> + +<p>Darkness had now begun to fall in earnest, and +as the two fugitives passed the Peacock Inn, no one +saw them.</p> + +<p>They were soon near enough to the city gate to +find many houses on either hand, and Sir Guy deemed +it wiser to move at a reasonable pace, for fear of attracting +suspicion in a neighborhood already aroused +by rumors of the man-hunt which had begun. They +could count upon the obscurity to conceal their identity.</p> + +<p>They had not proceeded far beyond the inn when +they met a party of travellers on horseback, one of +whom uttered a pleasant "Good-even!"</p> + +<p>"Good-even!" said Phœbe, thinking only of due +courtesy.</p> + +<p>"What the good jere!" cried a voice from the rear +of the group. "What dost thou here, Poll?"</p> + +<p>"My father!" exclaimed Phœbe, in terror.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" whispered Sir Guy, putting his hand upon +her bridle. "Ride forward at an easy gait until I +give example of haste."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></p> + +<p>They trotted quietly past the greater number of +the group until a dark figure approached and a voice +in the gloom said, severely:</p> + +<p>"What dost thou here? Who rides with thee, +lass?"</p> + +<p>Sir Guy now leaned forward and spurred his horse, +leaping away into the darkness without a word. In +equal silence Phœbe followed his example and galloped +headlong close behind her lover.</p> + +<p>"Help, ho!" yelled old Sir Isaac. "'Tis the traitor +Fenton, with my daughter! After them—stop them—a +Burton—a Burton!" and, mad with excitement, +the angry father set off in hot pursuit. With one +accord the others wheeled about and joined in the +chase, uttering cries and imprecations that rang +through the country for a mile around.</p> + +<p>"Now have we need of speed!" said Sir Guy, as +they galloped together toward London, whose walls +were now visible in the distance. "Soon will the +whole country join the hue-and-cry. The watch will +meet us at the gate."</p> + +<p>"'Twere better, were it not," Phœbe suggested, +"that we turn to the left and make a circuit into the +Aldersgate?"</p> + +<p>"Good wit, my lady!" cried Guy, whose excitement +had taken on the form of an exalted gayety. "Who +rides with thee rides safe, my love—e'en as Theseus +of old did ride, scathless 'neath the spell of protecting +Pallas!"</p> + +<p>"Stuff!" said Phœbe, spurring again, with a smile.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p> + +<p>Guy led the way at once across country to the eastward, +the soft English turf so deadening their hoof-beats +that those behind them had no clue to their +change of route.</p> + +<p>When the pursuing party reached the Bishopsgate, +they met the watch and learned that no one had +passed since the hue-and-cry was heard.</p> + +<p>"Here divide we, then," cried stout Sir Isaac +Burton. "Let eight follow them around the wall, +while I with other six ride on, that, if haply they +have entered London by the Aldersgate, we may +meet them within the city."</p> + +<p>The suggestion was adopted, and, all unconscious +of their peril, the lovers were rapidly hemmed in +between two bands of pursuers. Sir Guy and Phœbe +reached the Aldersgate unmolested and were allowed +to pass in without protest, as the hue-and-cry had +not yet reached so far. They ambled quietly past +the watch, arousing no suspicion, but no sooner had +they turned the first corner than once more they +urged their tired horses to greater exertion.</p> + +<p>"Choose we the side streets," said Guy. "Who +knows what watch hath been set on Gracechurch +Street. 'Tis for London Bridge we are bound, is't +not?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Phœbe. "I pray no prying watch detain +us ere we pass that way!"</p> + +<p>Picking their way through the dark and narrow +streets at a pace necessarily much reduced, they slowly +approached their goal, until at length, on emerg<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span>ing +into New Fish Street, they discerned the towering +walls of London Bridge.</p> + +<p>Here they reined in suddenly with one accord, for, +plainly visible in the moonlight, a group of horsemen +was gathered and there was borne to their ears +the sturdy voice of Sir Isaac.</p> + +<p>"Hallo!" he cried. "There be riders in New Fish +Street. See where they lurk in the shadow! What +ho, there! Give a name! Stand forth there!"</p> + +<p>Sir Guy drew his sword.</p> + +<p>"'Tis time for steel to answer!" he laughed.</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay! Wait—wait!" said Phœbe, earnestly. +"There must be other issue than in blood!"</p> + +<p>Two or three horsemen now detached themselves +from the group near the bridge and cantered up New +Fish Street. Sir Isaac was among them.</p> + +<p>"Are ye there, traitor?" he cried. "Where is my +daughter?"</p> + +<p>Sir Guy was about to reply when Phœbe put her +hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" she whispered. "Hearken!"</p> + +<p>Faint at first, but growing momentarily louder, +there came the clear trilling of a mysterious bell. +It floated out from the dark by-ways whence they +had themselves just emerged, and something eerie +and uncanny in its clamor brought a thrill of +terror to the young knight's nerves for the first +time.</p> + +<p>"Now, what in God's name—" he began.</p> + +<p>But he broke off in horror, for there flashed past<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> +him, as silent as the wind and swifter, a dark, bent +figure, with flying cloak, under which, as the moonlight +struck him, there whirled a web of glittering +tissue whereon he seemed to ride. That uncanny +tinkling floated back from this strange vision, confirming +to the ear what otherwise might have appeared +a mere trick of the vision.</p> + +<p>As for Sir Isaac and his band, the distant bell had +early brought them to a wondering stand; and now, +as this rushing phantom—trilling—trilling—trilling—swept +down on a living moonbeam, with one accord +they put spurs to their steeds, and with cries +of horror fled in all directions.</p> + +<p>"Forward!" cried Phœbe, exultantly. "Why, what +now!" she exclaimed, as she saw her lover still sitting +petrified with fear. "How now, my knight! Why +sit you here amazed? Is not the way clear? Come—follow—follow!" +and she started forward on a +trot.</p> + +<p>But her lover did not move, and she was obliged +to turn back. Laying her hand on his arm:</p> + +<p>"Why, what ails thee, dear heart?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"The spectre—the ghostly steed!" he stammered.</p> + +<p>"Oh—oh!" laughed Phœbe. "Why, this was but +some venturous bicyclist on his wheel!"</p> + +<p>"A bicyclist!" exclaimed Sir Guy. "Can you thus +give a name to this black phantom, Mary?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis naught, dear Guy, believe me!" she said. +Then, in pleading tones, she continued: "Didst not +agree to trust thy lady, dear?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span></p> + +<p>The young knight passed his hand over his eyes +and straightened himself resolutely in his saddle.</p> + +<p>"E'en to the death, love. Lead on! I shall not +falter!"</p> + +<p>They trotted forward through a now silent street +to the bridge, and soon found themselves enveloped +in the darkness and assailed by the countless odors +of London Bridge. From time to time they crossed +a path of moonlight, and here Phœbe would smile +into the eyes of her still much-puzzled lover and murmur +words of encouragement.</p> + +<p>Before they reached Southwark, there rang out +behind them the sound of hoofs upon the stones of +the bridge.</p> + +<p>"Can these be your father's minions, think you?" +said Sir Guy.</p> + +<p>"Nay!" Phœbe exclaimed. "Rest assured, they +were scattered too far to dog our steps again to-night."</p> + +<p>They emerged some moments later on the Southwark +side and saw the pillory towering ahead of them.</p> + +<p>"How far shall we fare to-night, love?" asked the +knight.</p> + +<p>"To Newington on horseback," Phœbe replied, +"and then—well, then shalt thou see more faring."</p> + +<p>There was a loud cry from the bridge, startling +the pair from their fancied security.</p> + +<p>"There they ride! The watch, ho! Stop the +traitor! Stop him! For the Queen! For the +Queen!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p> + +<p>"God help us!" cried Phœbe. "'Tis the two yeomen +of the Peacock Inn!"</p> + +<p>With one accord the pair clapped spurs to their +horses' sides and resumed once more the flight which +they had thought concluded.</p> + + + +<hr /> +<h2 class="chapter"><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + +<h3 class="chapter2">REBECCA'S TRUMP CARD</h3> + + +<p>When Rebecca set out for the Panchronicon from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> +London Bridge, she knew that she had a long walk +in prospect, and settled down to the work with +dogged resolution. Her trip was quite uneventful +until she neared the village of Newington, and then +she realized for the first time that she did not know +exactly where to find the deserted grove. One grove +looked much like another, and how was she to choose +between garden walls "as like as two peas," as she +expressed it?</p> + +<p>"Look here, Rebecca Wise," she said, aloud, as +she paused in the middle of the road, "you'll be lost +next you know!"</p> + +<p>She looked about dubiously and shook her head.</p> + +<p>"The thing fer you to do is to set right down an' +wait fer that pesky good-fer-nothin' Copernicus +Droop!" she remarked, and suiting action to speech +she picked her way to a convenient mile-stone and +seated herself.</p> + +<p>Having nothing better to do, she began to review +mentally the events of the last two days, and as she +recalled one after the other the unprecedented adventures +which had overtaken her, she wondered in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> +a dreamy way what would next befall. She built +hazy hypotheses, sitting there alone in the moonlight, +nodding contentedly. Suddenly she straightened up, +realizing that she had been aroused from a doze by +a cry near at hand.</p> + +<p>Turning toward London, she saw a wriggling mass +about fifty feet away which, by a process of slow +disentanglement, gradually developed into a man's +form rising from the ground and raising a fallen +bicycle.</p> + +<p>"Darn the luck!" said this dark figure. "Busted +my tire, sure as shootin'!"</p> + +<p>"Copernicus Droop!" cried Rebecca, in a loud +voice.</p> + +<p>Droop jumped high in the air, so great was his +nervousness. Then, realizing that it was Rebecca +who had addressed him, he limped toward her, rolling +his bicycle beside him.</p> + +<p>"How in creation did you get here?" he asked. +"Ain't any steam-cars 'round here, is there?"</p> + +<p>"Guess not!" Rebecca replied. "I come by short +cut up river. I guessed you'd make fer the Panchronicle, +and I jest made up my mind to come, too. +Thinks I, 'that Copernicus Droop ud be jest mean +enough to fly away all by himself an' leave me an' +Phœbe to shift fer ourselves.' So I'm here to go, +too—an' what's more, we've got to take Phœbe!"</p> + +<p>"How'll ye find yer sister, Cousin Rebecca?" said +Droop. "We must git out to-night. When the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +Queen gets on her ear like that, it's now or never. +Can you find Cousin Phœbe to-night?"</p> + +<p>"Where is the old machine, anyhow?" Rebecca +asked, not heeding Droop's question.</p> + +<p>"Right over yonder," said he, pointing to a dark +group of trees a few rods distant.</p> + +<p>"Well, come on, then. Let's go to it right away," +said Rebecca. "I'd like to rest a bit. I'm tired!"</p> + +<p>"Tired!" Droop exclaimed. "What about me, +then?"</p> + +<p>Without further parley, the two set off toward +the grove which Droop had indicated. Having dwelt +here for several weeks, he knew his bearings well, +but it was not until they came much nearer to the +deserted mansion that Rebecca recognized several +landmarks which convinced her that he had made +no mistake.</p> + +<p>Under the trees, the shadows were so black that +they were unable to find the breach in the wall.</p> + +<p>"Got any matches, Cousin Rebecca?" Droop asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Wait a minute an' I'll strike a light. I +know that blessed hole is somewhere right near here."</p> + +<p>She found again her card of matches, and breaking +off one of them, soon had a tiny taper which lit up +their surroundings wonderfully.</p> + +<p>"There 'tis! I've found it," cried Droop, and, +taking Rebecca by the arm, he led her toward the +broken place in the wall. The match went out just +as they reached it.</p> + +<p>Droop was about to suggest that he go in first to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> +see if all was well, when he was startled by Rebecca's +hand on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Hark!" she cried.</p> + +<p>He listened and distant cries coming nearer +through the night were borne to his ears.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" Rebecca exclaimed again.</p> + +<p>Rigid with excitement and dread, they stood there +listening. At length Droop pulled himself free of +Rebecca's hold.</p> + +<p>"That's some o' them palace folks chasin' after +me!" he cried, in a panic.</p> + +<p>"Fiddle-dee-dee!" Rebecca exclaimed, with energy. +"How should they know where you are?"</p> + +<p>By this time the sounds were more distinct, and +they could easily make out cries of: "Traitor! Stop +him! For the Queen! Stop him!"</p> + +<p>The two listeners had just mentally concluded that +this alarm did not in any wise concern them when +Rebecca was startled beyond measure to hear her +sister Phœbe's voice, loud above all other sounds.</p> + +<p>"Nay—nay, Guy!" she was screaming. "Stop not +to fight! Fly—follow! Shelter is here at hand!"</p> + +<p>Forgetting everything but possible danger for +Phœbe, Rebecca dashed out from under the trees.</p> + +<p>There in the moonlight she saw Phœbe on horseback, +her head uncovered, her hair floating free and +her clothing in tatters. A few paces behind her was +Sir Guy, also mounted, fiercely attacking two pursuing +horsemen with his sword. Farther back, rendered +indistinct by distance, was a larger group of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> +mingled horse and foot travellers. There was a lantern +among them, and Rebecca inferred that the +watch was with them.</p> + +<p>A moment later, one of the two men engaged with +Sir Guy fell from his horse. Instantly the young +knight turned upon the second pursuer, who fled at +once toward the larger group now rapidly approaching.</p> + +<p>Rebecca ran forward and waved her card of +matches frantically, apparently thinking in her excitement +that she held a flag.</p> + +<p>"Here, Phœbe—here, child!" she screamed. "This +way, quick! Here we are awaitin' fer ye. Come, +quick—quick!"</p> + +<p>With a loud cry of joy, Phœbe slipped from her +horse and ran toward her sister.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Rebecca, Rebecca!" she cried, throwing herself +into her sister's arms. "Oh, you dear, lovely, +sweet old darling!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca kissed her younger sister with tears in +her eyes, almost as affected as the girl herself, who +was now laughing and crying hysterically on her +breast.</p> + +<p>While they stood thus tightly locked in each +other's arms, Guy came to their side with sword in +hand.</p> + +<p>"Quick!" he said, sharply. "You must away to +shelter. Here comes the watch apace. I will protect +the rear."</p> + +<p>The two women started apart and Phœbe set for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span>ward +obediently, but Rebecca only gave the fast-approaching +crowd a look of proud contempt.</p> + +<p>"Fiddle-ends!" she exclaimed. "You go on ahead, +Guy. I'll fix them queer folks!"</p> + +<p>Whether Rebecca's voice convinced him of her +power to make good her words or that he felt his +first duty was at Phœbe's side, the fact is that the +young knight strode forward with his sweetheart +toward the breach in the wall, leaving Rebecca behind +to bear the first attack.</p> + +<p>Droop had already passed within the enclosure +and was groping his way toward the black mass of +the Panchronicon.</p> + +<p>Phœbe, led by an accurate memory of her surroundings, +had but little difficulty in finding the +opening, and, by her voice, Sir Guy and Rebecca +were guided to it.</p> + +<p>Phœbe passed through first and Sir Guy followed +just as the advance guard of the pursuing mob rushed +under the trees, swinging their two lanterns and +shouting aloud:</p> + +<p>"Here—this way! We have 'em fast!"</p> + +<p>Rebecca coolly stooped and drew the edge of her +entire card of matches across a stone at her feet. +Then, standing erect, she thrust the sulphurous blue +blaze into the faces of two rough-looking fellows just +advancing to seize her.</p> + +<p>Sir Guy, who stood within the wall, found cause +for deep amazement in the yell of startled fear with +which Rebecca's act was met; and deeper yet grew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> +his astonishment when that cry was re-echoed by the +whole terror-stricken mob, who turned as one man +to flee from this flaming, sulphurous sorceress.</p> + +<p>Rebecca quietly waited until the sulphur had +burned off and the wood blazed bright and clear. +Then she pushed through the broken wall and showed +the way to their destination by the light of the small +torch.</p> + +<p>Sir Guy's feelings may be imagined when he suddenly +found that they were all four standing before +a strangely formed structure in the side of which +Copernicus had just opened a door.</p> + +<p>"Why, Mary!" he exclaimed, pausing in his walk. +"What have we here?"</p> + +<p>She took his hand with a smile and drew him gently +forward.</p> + +<p>"Trust thy Mary yet further, Guy," she said. +"Thy watchword must be, 'Trust and question not.'"</p> + +<p>He smiled in reply and, sheathing his sword, +stepped boldly forward into the interior of the Panchronicon. +Phœbe knew the power of superstition +in that age, and she glowed with pride and tenderness, +conscious that in this act of faith in her the +knight evinced more courage than ever he might +need to bear him well in battle.</p> + +<p>When the electric lights shed a sudden bright +glare down the spiral staircase, Sir Guy cowered and +stopped short again, turning pale with a fear irrepressible. +But Phœbe put one arm about his neck +and drew his head down to hers, whispering in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> +ear. What she said none heard save him, but the +spell of her words was potent, for the young knight +stood erect once more and firmly ascended to the +room above.</p> + +<p>Droop stood nervously waiting at the engine-room +door.</p> + +<p>"Are ye all in?" he said, sharply. "Where's +Cousin Rebecca?"</p> + +<p>"Here I be!" came a voice from below. "I'm jest +lockin' the door tight."</p> + +<p>"Well, hurry up—hurry! Come up here an' lay +down. I'm goin' to start."</p> + +<p>In a few moments all was in readiness. Droop +pulled the lever, and with a roar and a mighty bound +the Panchronicon, revived by its long period of waiting, +sped upward into the night.</p> + +<p>As the four fugitives sat upright again, and Droop, +rubbing his hands with satisfaction, was about to +speak, the door of one of the bedchambers was +opened, and a stranger dressed in nineteenth-century +attire stepped forward, shading his blinking eyes with +his hand.</p> + +<p>The two women screamed, but Droop only dropped +amazed into a chair.</p> + +<p>"Francis Bacon!" he exclaimed.</p> + +<p>Then, leaping forward eagerly, he cried aloud:</p> + +<p>"Gimme them clothes!"</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Of the return trip of the five, little need be said +save to record one untoward incident which has been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +the occasion of a most unfortunate historic controversy.</p> + +<p>The date-recording instrument must have been deranged +in some way, for when, after a great number +of eastward turns around the pole, it marked the +year 1898, they had really only reached 1857. Supposing +themselves to have actually reached the year +erroneously indicated by the recorder, they set off +southward and made a first landing in Hartford, +Connecticut.</p> + +<p>Here they discovered their mistake, and returned +to the pole to complete their journey in time. All +but Francis Bacon. He declared that so much whirling +made him giddy, and remained in Connecticut. +Alas! Had Phœbe known the result of this desertion, +she would never have consented to it.</p> + +<p>Bacon, who had read much of Shakespeare while +in the Panchronicon, found on returning thus accidentally +to modern America, that this playwright +was esteemed the first and greatest of poets and +dramatists by the modern world. Then and there +he planned a conspiracy to rob the greatest character +in literary history of his just fame; and, under +the pseudonym of "Delia Bacon," advanced those +theories of his own concealed authorship which have +ever since deluded the uncritical and disgusted all +lovers of common-sense and of justice.</p> + +<p>Copernicus Droop, on returning his three remaining +passengers to their proper dates and addresses, +discovered that his sole remaining phonograph, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> +certain valuable records of Elizabethan origin, had +disappeared. As he owed a grudge to Francis Bacon, +that worthy fell at once under suspicion, and accordingly +Droop promptly returned to 1857, sought out +the deserter, and charged him with having stolen +these instruments.</p> + +<p>It was not until the accused man had indignantly +denied all knowledge of Droop's property that the +crestfallen Yankee recollected that he had left the +apparatus in question in the deserted mansion of +Newington, where he had stored it for greater safety +after Bacon's first unexpected visit.</p> + +<p>Without hesitation, he determined to return to +1598 and reclaim his own. Bacon, who had learned +from modern historical works of the brilliant future +in store for himself in England, begged Droop to +take him back; and as an atonement for his unjust +accusation, Droop consented.</p> + +<p>It is not generally known that, contrary to common +report, Francis Bacon was <i>not</i> arrested for debt +in 1598; but that, during the time he was supposed +to have been in prison, he was actually engaged in +building up in his own behalf the greatest hoax in +history.</p> + +<hr class="hr2" /> + +<p>Let those who may be inclined to discredit this +scrupulously authentic chronicle proceed forthwith +to Peltonville, New Hampshire, and there ask for +Mr. and Mrs. Guy Fenton. From them will be +gained complete corroboration of this history, not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> +only in the account which they will give of their own +past adventures, but in the unmistakable Elizabethan +flavor distinguishable to this day in their speech and +manner. Indeed, the single fact that both ale and +beer are to be found behind their wood-pile should +be convincing evidence on this point.</p> + +<p>As for Rebecca, fully convinced at last of the marvellous +qualities of the Panchronicon, she never tires +of taking her little nephew, Isaac Burton Wise Fenton, +on her knee and telling him of her amazing adventures +in the palace of "Miss Tudor."</p> +<div class="minispace"> </div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Panchronicon, by Harold Steele Mackaye + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PANCHRONICON *** + +***** This file should be named 27682-h.htm or 27682-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/7/6/8/27682/ + +Produced by David Clarke, Meredith Bach and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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