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+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: ASCII
+
+*** 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.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+     THE PANCHRONICON
+
+
+
+
+            THE
+        PANCHRONICON
+
+            BY
+   HAROLD STEELE MACKAYE
+
+
+          NEW YORK
+   CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+            1904
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1904, BY
+CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+
+Published, April, 1904
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+CHAPTER                                                PAGE
+
+       I. THE THEORY OF COPERNICUS DROOP                               1
+
+      II. A VISIT TO THE PANCHRONICON                                 23
+
+     III. A NOCTURNAL EVASION                                         38
+
+      IV. A CHANGE OF PLAN                                            58
+
+       V. DROOP'S THEORY IN PRACTICE                                  86
+
+      VI. SHIPWRECKED ON THE SANDS OF TIME                           103
+
+     VII. NEW TIES AND OLD RELATIONS                                 123
+
+    VIII. HOW FRANCIS BACON CHEATED THE BAILIFFS                     157
+
+      IX. PHOEBE AT THE PEACOCK INN                                  179
+
+       X. HOW THE QUEEN READ HER NEWSPAPER                           208
+
+      XI. THE FAT KNIGHT AT THE BOAR'S HEAD                          242
+
+     XII. HOW SHAKESPEARE WROTE HIS PLAYS                            258
+
+    XIII. HOW THE FAT KNIGHT DID HOMAGE                              277
+
+    XIV. THE FATE OF SIR PERCEVALL'S SUIT                            297
+
+    XV. HOW REBECCA RETURNED TO NEWINGTON                            317
+
+    XVI. HOW SIR GUY KEPT HIS TRYST                                  324
+
+    XVII. REBECCA'S TRUMP CARD                                       340
+
+
+
+
+THE PANCHRONICON
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE THEORY OF COPERNICUS DROOP
+
+
+The two sisters were together in their garden.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+Presently Rebecca straightened her back with a slight grimace and looked
+toward her sister, holding her mold-covered hands and fingers spread
+away from her.
+
+"Well," she inquired, "hev ye found anythin'?"
+
+Phoebe brought her gaze back from infinity and replied:
+
+"No, I ain't. Only that one letter where Isaac Burton writes her that
+the players have come to town."
+
+"I don't see what good them letters'll do ye in the Shakespeare class,
+then."
+
+Rebecca spoke listlessly--more interested in her garden than in her
+sister's search.
+
+"I don't know," Phoebe 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."
+
+Rebecca looked up anxiously from her work.
+
+"Them sort o' philanderin' notions are foolish, Phoebe," she said, and
+flicked a caterpillar over the fence.
+
+Phoebe gave herself a little shake and began to tie up the papers.
+
+"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."
+
+She paused and looked wistfully at the letters again.
+
+"Oh!" she cried, "how I do wonder if he was 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."
+
+"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.
+
+"Yes, three hundred years ago. Three of these letters has a date in 1598
+exactly."
+
+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.
+
+"Everlastin'ly lookin' at that pictur'!" she exclaimed. "I declare to
+goodness, Phoebe Wise, folks'll think you're vain as a pouter pigeon."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Folks'll never see me lookin' at it, Rebecca--only you," she said.
+
+Then with a coaxing tone and looking with appealing archness at her
+sister, she went on:
+
+"Is it really like me, Rebecca? Honest true?"
+
+The elder woman merely grunted and moved on to the next bed, and
+Phoebe, with another laugh, ran lightly into the house.
+
+A few moments later she reappeared at the front door with consternation
+on her face.
+
+"Land o' goodness, Rebecca!" she cried, "do you know what time it is?
+Near onto one o'clock, an' 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."
+
+She whisked into the house again, and Rebecca followed her as rapidly as
+possible.
+
+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.
+
+                *       *       *       *       *
+
+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.
+
+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 of their chief source of
+fear, found Sunday meetings a bore, and a village pastor an unnecessary
+luxury.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+A lantern-jawed young farmer at the end of the row slowly brushed the
+shavings from his clothes and remarked:
+
+"Thet's the secon' meetin' of the Shekspeare class this month, ain't
+it?"
+
+"Yep, an' there'll be two more afore the summer boarders comes up----"
+
+The second speaker would have continued, but he was here interrupted by
+a third, who whispered loudly:
+
+"Say, fellers, there goes Copernicus."
+
+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.
+
+"Walks pretty straight fer him, don't he?" snickered the first speaker.
+
+"He's not ben tight fer two days."
+
+"Bet ye a jack-knife he'll be spreein' it fer all he's wuth to-morrow."
+
+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.
+
+Presently he stopped.
+
+With muslin skirts swaying, hair rumpled, and fair young face flushed
+with exertion, Phoebe 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.
+
+"Oh, say, Cousin Phoebe," was the man's greeting, "can you tell me ef
+yer sister's to home?"
+
+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.
+
+"Why, Mr. Droop!" she exclaimed, "I--I--I s'pose so."
+
+The truth was the truth, after all. But it was hard on Rebecca. What
+_could_ this man want with her sister?
+
+Droop nodded and passed on.
+
+"Thank ye. Don't stop fer me," he said.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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, 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.
+
+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 Phoebe'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.
+
+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.
+
+"Copernicus Droop!" she exclaimed, "did you ever!"
+
+She sat in rigid astonishment until she heard his timid knock, followed
+by the sound of shoes vigorously wiped upon the door-mat.
+
+"Well, come! Thet's a comfort!" she thought. "He won't muss the
+carpet"--and she rose to admit her visitor.
+
+"Good mornin'," said Droop, timidly. "I seen Cousin Phoebe a-runnin'
+down the road, an' I sorter thought I'd run in an' see how you was."
+
+"Come right in," said Rebecca, in non-committal tones. She shut the door
+and followed him into the parlor.
+
+"Here, give me yer hat," she continued. "Set right there. How be ye?"
+
+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.
+
+"Well, what did ye come fer?"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Well, Cousin Rebecca," he began, slowly, "I'm lookin' fer a partner."
+He paused, considering how to proceed.
+
+The spinster let her hands drop in speechless wonder. The audacity of
+the man! He--to her--a proposal! At her age! From him!
+
+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.
+
+"Yes," Droop proceeded, "I've a little business plan, an' it needs
+capital an' a partner."
+
+He waited, but there was no response.
+
+"Capital an' a partner," he repeated, "an' intelligence an' ambition. So
+I come to you."
+
+Rebecca turned toward him again, scarcely less surprised now than
+before.
+
+"To me! D'ye mean to say ye've me in yer mind fer a partner--with
+capital?"
+
+Droop nodded slowly and compressed his lips.
+
+"Well, I want to know!" she exclaimed, helplessly.
+
+"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."
+
+Again Rebecca blushed, but this time in anger.
+
+"See here, Copernicus Droop--" she began.
+
+"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."
+
+"What _air_ you a-drivin' at?"
+
+Droop shifted uneasily in his seat and ran his finger around inside of
+his collar before he replied:
+
+"Ye see, it's sorter hard to explain. It's this way. I hev a mighty
+fine plan in my mind founded on a mixin' up of astronomical
+considerations with prior inventions----"
+
+"Mister Droop!" exclaimed his hostess, gazing severely into his eyes,
+"ef you think I'll let you go to drinkin' rum till----"
+
+"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----"
+
+A violent push sent him back to his chair.
+
+"Thet'll do, Mr. Droop. I'll undertake to believe ye fer once, but I'll
+thank ye to speak plain English."
+
+"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----"
+
+He paused and swallowed hard, gazing at the ceiling for inspiration.
+Then he burst out suddenly:
+
+"Ye know the graphophone an' the kodak and the biograph an' all them
+things what ye can see down to Keene?"
+
+Rebecca nodded slowly, with suspicion still in her eye.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"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!"
+
+Rebecca slowly pushed her needle through her hair, which was a sign of
+thoughtfulness.
+
+"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."
+
+Droop edged forward eagerly.
+
+"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'----"
+
+"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!"
+
+"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----"
+
+"I'd say ye was tighter'n a boiled owl, Copernicus Droop."
+
+"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----"
+
+"Then you're plum crazy," she interrupted.
+
+"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'."
+
+"Well, then, you c'n explain it to them as hez ben to high school, an'
+that's sister Phoebe. Here she comes now."
+
+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.
+
+"Twenty-two years makes a heap o' difference!" he muttered. "But Rebecca
+was jest as pretty herself, back in 1876."
+
+"Look, Rebecca!" cried Phoebe, 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?"
+
+"Oh, don't ask me, child!" was the nervous reply. "Mr. Droop's in the
+parlor."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Set down, both o' ye," said Rebecca. "Now, then, Mr. Droop, perhaps
+you'll explain."
+
+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.
+
+Poor Copernicus experienced a sense of relief as he turned his eyes to
+those of the younger sister. She felt that Rebecca's manner was
+distinctly cold, and her own expression was the more cordial in
+compensation.
+
+"Why, Miss Phoebe," he said, eagerly, "I've ben tellin' your sister
+about my plan to go back to the Centennial year--1876, ye know."
+
+"To--to what, Mr. Droop?"
+
+Phoebe's polite cordiality gave place to amazed consternation. Droop
+raised a deprecating hand.
+
+"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?"
+
+Phoebe put on what her sister always called "that schoolmarm look" and
+replied:
+
+"Why, it's the turning round of the earth on its axis once in----"
+
+"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?"
+
+Rebecca, who found this technical and figurative expression beyond her,
+paused in her knitting and looked anxiously at Phoebe, to see how she
+would take it. After a moment of thought, the young woman admitted her
+visitor's premises.
+
+"Very good! An' you know's well's I do, Miss Phoebe, 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 than the feller that goes round
+the world that way. Am I right?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+Phoebe gasped at the suggestion.
+
+"Why, I should think--of course----"
+
+She stopped and put her hand to her head in bewilderment.
+
+"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?"
+
+Both sisters nodded.
+
+"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?"
+
+"My goodness! Mr. Droop!" Phoebe replied, feebly. "I never thought of
+that."
+
+"Well, ain't it so?"
+
+"Of course--leastways--why, it must be!"
+
+"All right, then!"
+
+Droop rose triumphantly to his feet, overcome by his feelings.
+
+"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?"
+
+He paused, but there was no reply.
+
+"Why, as sure as shootin', I tell ye, that feller will get jest one day
+younger fer every two whirls round!"
+
+There was a long and momentous silence. The tremendous suggestion had
+for the moment bereft both women of all reasoning faculty.
+
+At length the younger sister ventured upon a practical objection.
+
+"But how's he goin' to whirl round as fast as that, Mr. Droop?" she
+said.
+
+Droop smiled indulgently.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Thet's so," murmured Rebecca, "I've seen it many's the time on the map
+in Phoebe's geography book."
+
+"Sure enough," Droop rejoined. "Then ain't it 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?"
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe felt all the tremendous force of Droop's logic, and she flushed
+with excitement. One last practical objection was obvious, however.
+
+"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 _has_ been reached yet, an' how are you agoin'
+to do it?"
+
+"You think it never hez," Copernicus replied. "The fact is, though, that
+I've ben there."
+
+"You!" Phoebe cried.
+
+"And is there a pole there?" Rebecca asked, eagerly.
+
+"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.
+
+"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--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.
+
+"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!
+
+"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!"
+
+"There, now!" cried Rebecca, "didn't Si Wilkins' boy Sam say he seen a
+comet in broad daylight last June?"
+
+"Thet was us," Droop admitted.
+
+"And not a soul believed him," Phoebe remarked.
+
+"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'!"
+
+"And then?" cried the two women together.
+
+"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."
+
+Copernicus shook his head sadly, with retrospective sadness.
+
+"An' where is the future-man now?" Phoebe asked.
+
+"Tuk cold on his lungs at the North Pole," said Droop, solemnly. "Hed
+pneumonia an' up'n died."
+
+"But there warn't nobody round heerd of him except you," said Rebecca.
+"Who buried him?"
+
+"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."
+
+The two sisters looked at each other, quite overcome with admiration.
+
+"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'."
+
+"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."
+
+"I'd jest love to see it," said Rebecca, her coldness all forgotten,
+"but it's mos' too late fer this afternoon. There's the supper to get,
+you know, an'----"
+
+"But the plan, Rebecca," Phoebe cried. "You've forgotten that I
+haven't heard Mr. Droop's plan."
+
+"I wish 't you'd call me 'Cousin Copernicus,'" said Droop, earnestly.
+"You know I've sworn off--quit drinkin' now."
+
+Phoebe blushed at his novel proposal and insisted on the previous
+question.
+
+"But what is the plan?" she said.
+
+"Why, my idea is this, Cousin Phoebe. 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."
+
+Rebecca murmured something unintelligible, blushing furiously, with her
+eyes riveted to her knitting. Phoebe looked surprised.
+
+"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 Phoebe," he cried, with
+enthusiasm, "we'll all hev a million apiece!"
+
+The sentimental side of Droop's plan first monopolized Phoebe's
+attention.
+
+"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? Why, Joe Chandler's just a _fine_ man. Is it you that broke his
+heart an' made him an old bachelor all his life?"
+
+Rebecca must have dropped a stitch, for she turned toward the window
+again and brought her knitting very close to her face.
+
+"What brought ye so early to home, Phoebe?" she said. "Warn't there no
+Shakespeare meetin' to-day?"
+
+"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," Phoebe continued, in high spirits.
+
+Seating herself on the arm of her sister's chair, she put her arms about
+her neck and, bending over, whispered:
+
+"Tell me honest, now, Rebecca, did Joe Chandler ever propose to you?"
+
+"No, he never did!" the elder sister exclaimed, rising suddenly.
+
+"Now, Mr. Droop," she continued, "your hull plan is jest too absurd to
+think of----"
+
+Droop tried to expostulate, but she raised her voice, speaking more
+quickly.
+
+"An' you come 'round again after supper an' we'll tell ye what we've
+decided," she concluded.
+
+The humor of this reply was lost on Copernicus, but he moved toward the
+door with a sense of distinct encouragement.
+
+"Remember the rumpus we'll make with all them inventions," Droop called
+back as he walked toward the gate, "think of the money we'll make!"
+
+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 _now_ really Rebecca Wise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+A VISIT TO THE PANCHRONICON
+
+
+At precisely eight o'clock that evening, a knock 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
+Phoebe's face. Her eyes and pretty nose were red and her mouth was
+drawn into a curve of plaintive rebellion.
+
+"Set down, Mr. Droop. Give me yer hat," she said; and there was a
+suspicious catch in her voice.
+
+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. Phoebe sat on the long horse-hair
+"settle," and played moodily with the tassel hanging at its head.
+
+There was a long pause. Each of the women seemed bent on forcing the
+other to break the silence.
+
+Poor Droop felt that his plans were doomed, and he dared not urge either
+woman to speech, lest he hear the death-sentence of his hopes. Finally,
+however, the awkward silence became unbearable.
+
+"Well?" he said, inquiringly, still rubbing his hands.
+
+"Well," Rebecca exclaimed, "it seems it's not to be done," and she
+looked reproachfully at Phoebe.
+
+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.
+
+Turning now to the younger sister, Droop asked, in a melancholy tone:
+
+"Don't you want to get rich, Cousin Phoebe?"
+
+"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!"
+
+Droop opened his eyes very wide indeed, and Rebecca said, earnestly:
+
+"Phoebe, you know you ain't got any call to say sech a thing!"
+
+"Oh, haven't I?" cried Phoebe, 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 _spanked_!"
+
+With the last word, Phoebe burst into tears of mingled grief and
+mortification and rushed from the room.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Well, now!" he exclaimed, at length. "Ain't that pretty! Looks jest
+like her, too. When was that tuck, Miss Wise?"
+
+"That ain't Phoebe," said Rebecca, dejectedly.
+
+"Ain't Phoebe!" Droop cried, in amazement. "Why, it's the finest
+likeness--why--but--it _must_ be yer sister!"
+
+"Well, 'tain't. Thet pictur is jest three hundred years old."
+
+"Three hundred--" he began--then very slowly, "Well, now, do tell!" he
+said.
+
+"Phoebe'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."
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+"Ye wouldn't want to come back to '76 with me an' leave Cousin Phoebe
+behind, would ye?" he suggested, dismally.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"Well," he said, "the' isn't any use you seem' the Panchronicon now, is
+the'?"
+
+"What's it like, Mr. Droop?" Rebecca inquired.
+
+He paused helpless before the very thought of description.
+
+"Oh," he said, weakly, "et's like--et's a--why--Oh, it's a machine!"
+
+"Hez it got wings?"
+
+"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!"
+
+Rebecca dropped her hands into her lap and replied, with a hesitating
+manner:
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"I don't see how I could go now," she said. "Besides, it's mos' too
+dark to see the thing, ain't it?"
+
+"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."
+
+Then, as she still remained undecided, he continued, in an undertone:
+
+"Cousin Phoebe's up in her room, ain't she? Ye might not get another
+chance so easy."
+
+He had guessed instinctively that, under the circumstances, Rebecca
+preferred not revealing to Phoebe her own continued interest in the
+wonderful machine.
+
+The suggestion was vital. Phoebe 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.
+
+Rebecca rolled up her knitting work and rose to her feet.
+
+"Jest wait here a spell," she said, rapidly. "I won't be a minute!"
+
+               *       *       *       *       *
+
+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.
+
+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 plans. Rebecca walked with nervous haste, dreading
+Phoebe's possible discovery of this most unconventional conduct.
+
+The night was moonless, and the two stumbled and groped their way down
+the lane at a pace whose slowness exasperated Rebecca.
+
+"Ef I'd a-known!" she exclaimed, under her breath.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"'Mighty lucky, 'tain't wet weather!" she mumbled.
+
+At that moment her guide stood still.
+
+"There!" he exclaimed, in a low, half-awed voice.
+
+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.
+
+It looked like the crouching phantom of some shapeless sea-monster.
+Rebecca half expected to see it dissolve like a wind-driven fog.
+
+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."
+
+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--_would_ they be brought together? How
+assume a comfortable mental attitude toward this creation whose present
+existence so long antedated its own origin?
+
+One sentiment, at least, Rebecca could entertain with hearty
+consistency. Curiosity asserted its supremacy over every other feeling.
+
+"Can't we get into the thing, an' light a candle or suthin'?" she said.
+
+"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."
+
+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 flung out her free hand for
+support. She clutched at a hand-rail that seemed to lead spirally
+upward.
+
+Droop's voice came out of the blackness.
+
+"Jest wait here a minute," he said. "I'll go up an' turn on the light."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+She was met at the door by Copernicus, who was smiling with a proud
+complacency.
+
+"Wal, Cousin Rebecca," he said, with a sweeping gesture indicating their
+general surroundings, "what d'ye think o' this?"
+
+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.
+
+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 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.
+
+"This here's the settin'-room," Droop explained. "An' these are the
+state-rooms--that's what he called 'em."
+
+He walked toward two doors in one of the end walls and, opening one of
+them, turned the switch of the lamp within.
+
+"'Lectric lights in it, like down to Keene," Rebecca remarked,
+approaching the cabin and peering in.
+
+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.
+
+Droop opened the other door.
+
+"They're both alike," he said.
+
+Rebecca glanced into the second apartment, which was indeed the
+counterpart of its companion.
+
+"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.
+
+But Droop had bustled off to another part of the room.
+
+"Here's lockers under these window-seats," he explained, with a
+dignified wave of the hand. "Here's books an' maps in this set o'
+shelves. Here's a small pianner that plays itself when you turn on the
+electricity----"
+
+There was a stumbling crash and a suppressed cry at the foot of the
+stairs.
+
+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--
+
+"Don't be scared--it's only Phoebe."
+
+"What ever possessed--" began Rebecca, in a low tone.
+
+But at that moment Phoebe's head appeared over the stair rail in the
+light shed from the two state-rooms.
+
+"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."
+
+She dropped into one of the chairs beside the table just as Droop
+relighted the lamps.
+
+With one slender hand resting upon the table, she looked up into Droop's
+face and went on:
+
+"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 town pretty soon--not to
+mention the skeeters, which are comin' right early this year!"
+
+"Lands sakes!" cried Rebecca.
+
+"There now!" exclaimed Copernicus, bustling toward the windows, "I must
+be a nateral born fool!"
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+Rebecca seated herself opposite Phoebe 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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"What's all those dials on the wall, Mr. Droop?" asked the younger
+sister.
+
+"I wish't you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," said Droop, appealingly.
+
+Phoebe ran up very close to a large steel dial-plate covered with
+figures.
+
+"Now what the land is this for?" she exclaimed.
+
+"Thet," said Droop, slowly, "is an indicator of height above ground and
+tells yer direction."
+
+"And what d'ye do with this little handle?"
+
+"Why, you set that for north or west or any other way, an' the hull
+machine keeps headed that way until ye change it."
+
+"Oh, is that the rudder?"
+
+"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."
+
+He walked to one of the two doors which faced the state-rooms.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+When Droop had completed his lecture, Phoebe found that she understood
+the uses of three of the levers. The rest was a mystery to her.
+
+"This is the starting-lever," she said. "This steers, and this reverses.
+Is that it?"
+
+"That's correct," said Droop, "an' if----"
+
+She cut him short by whisking out of the room.
+
+"What drives the thing?" she asked, as he meekly followed her.
+
+"Oh, the's power storage an' all kinds o' works down below stairs."
+
+"An' what's this room for?" she asked, opening the door next the
+engine-room.
+
+"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!"
+
+Rebecca found this temptation stronger than her ill humor, and she rose
+with alacrity and followed her companions into the now brightly lighted
+kitchen.
+
+Here the appointments were the completest possible, and, after she and
+Phoebe had mastered the theory of the electric range, they agreed that
+they had never seen such a satisfactory equipment.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"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'----"
+
+"They'd take us for a lunatic asylum," Rebecca exclaimed, severely.
+
+Phoebe considered a moment and then gravely replied:
+
+"Yes, I s'pose they would."
+
+Copernicus was pacing slowly up and down from range to china-closet and
+back, rubbing his hands slowly over each other.
+
+"I wish't you'd try to see ef ye couldn't change yer mind, Cousin
+Phoebe," he said, earnestly. "Jest think of all there is in this
+extrordnery vessel--what 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!"
+
+Phoebe led the way in silence to the outer room again, and Droop
+carefully extinguished the lights in the kitchen and engine-room.
+
+As the three stood together under the main chandelier their faces were
+the exponents of three different moods.
+
+Droop was wistful--anxious.
+
+Rebecca looked grimly regretful.
+
+In Phoebe's eyes there shone a cheerful light--but her expression was
+enigmatic.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Don't ye believe ye might change yer mind?" he asked, mournfully.
+
+"We'll be through with the breakfast an' have things set to rights by
+eight o'clock," said Phoebe.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+A NOCTURNAL EVASION
+
+
+Promptly at the appointed time, Copernicus Droop 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.
+
+Nearing the house he saw Phoebe 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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"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."
+
+She led him to the parlor and offered him a seat.
+
+"Where's Cousin Rebecca?" he said, as he carefully placed his hat on the
+floor beside his chair.
+
+Phoebe seated herself opposite to her visitor with her back to the
+windows, so that her face was in shadow.
+
+"Rebecca's upstairs," she replied.
+
+Then, after a moment's pause: "She's packin' up," she said.
+
+Droop straightened up excitedly.
+
+"What--packin'!" he cried. "Hev ye decided ye'll go, then?"
+
+"Well," said Phoebe, slowly, "we have an'--an' we haven't."
+
+"What d'ye mean?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But ye might make some clothes before ye start," Droop suggested.
+
+"Mr. Droop!" Phoebe exclaimed, severely, "what _do_ you s'pose folks
+would say if Rebecca and I was to set to work makin' baby clothes--two
+old maids like us?"
+
+Droop looked down in confusion and plucked at the edge of his coat.
+
+"Phoebe Wise, you're only just tryin' to be smart fer argument!"
+
+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.
+
+She was gazing sternly at Phoebe, who appeared somewhat disconcerted.
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe rallied quickly and repelled this attack with spirit.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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!"
+
+With this, Rebecca turned grimly and went into the garden to hang the
+sheets up for an airing.
+
+There was a moment's awkward pause, and then Phoebe broke the silence.
+
+"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 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."
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"I don't understand that business," he replied, sharply. "Besides I
+can't get one o' them X-ray machines--they cost a heap."
+
+This was a blow to Phoebe'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?
+
+Suddenly her face lighted up.
+
+"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?"
+
+"I ain't got one o' those either," Droop grumbled. "I've got a kodak
+an' a graphophone an' a lot o' Milliken's cough syrup with the
+recipe----"
+
+"Why there!" cried Phoebe, exultantly. "Milliken's cough syrup is only
+four years old, ain't it?"
+
+Droop did not reply, but his silence was a virtual assent.
+
+"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?"
+
+Rebecca returned at this moment and seated herself on the haircloth
+settle, nodding silently to Droop.
+
+"What's about Mr. Milliken's money, Phoebe?" she asked.
+
+"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'----"
+
+"Phoebe 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!"
+
+This attack upon the ethical plane struck Phoebe 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.
+
+"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 hadn't ever thought of his cough syrup. How could we be
+robbin' him of somethin' he hasn't got?"
+
+Rebecca looked confused for a moment, but was not to be so easily
+convinced.
+
+"'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?"
+
+Phoebe looked anxiously at Copernicus and was much pleased to find him
+apparently unmoved.
+
+"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'."
+
+"What!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Will he be livin' in one time an' we be
+livin' in another--both at the same--" She stopped. What _was_ she
+saying!
+
+"No--no!" replied Copernicus. "He'll go on livin'. That's what he _will_
+do. We'll go on havin' lived. Or to put it different--we _have_ 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."
+
+Rebecca glanced at Phoebe, in whose face she found her own perplexity
+reflected. Then, throwing out her hands, as though pushing away her
+crowding mental obstructions, she cried:
+
+"There--there! I can't get the hang of it. It's too much for me!"
+
+"Oh, when you've done it once it'll be all easy and clear," said Droop,
+soothingly.
+
+Phoebe looked hopefully into his face.
+
+"Will you take us, Mr. Droop?" she asked.
+
+"Oh, I s'pose I'll hev to."
+
+"An' only unwind six years?"
+
+"Yes--jest six years."
+
+She jumped up excitedly.
+
+"Then I'll be off to my packin'!"
+
+She ran to the door and, pausing here, turned again to their visitor.
+
+"Can we start to-night, Mr. Droop?"
+
+"Yes, indeed!" he replied. "The sooner the better."
+
+"That's splendid!" she cried, and ran quickly up the stairs.
+
+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.
+
+At length Rebecca looked up and said:
+
+"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."
+
+"Yes ye can," said Droop. "I'll need somebody 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."
+
+"Well," she rejoined, rising, "I'll jest go up an' finish my packin'."
+
+"An' I'll go tend to mine."
+
+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.
+
+The rest of the day was spent in preparation for the momentous voyage.
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+"I don't hardly know as we're doin' right, Phoebe," 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?"
+
+"Mercy, no!" Phoebe exclaimed, pettishly. "You're forever raisin' some
+trouble like that! Ain't this our money?"
+
+"Yes--but----"
+
+"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."
+
+"But s'posin' he can't answer it?" Rebecca insisted.
+
+"Well, if he can't we can give back the difference to the bank."
+
+So saying, Phoebe took her share of the bills and quickly left the
+room.
+
+"I've got lots of things to do before night," she remarked.
+
+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.
+
+"Ef folks was to see lights here so late in the night," she said,
+"they'd suspicion somethin' an' they might even call in."
+
+Phoebe admitted the justness of this reasoning, and they had both
+directed every endeavor to completing all their arrangements before
+their accustomed bed-time.
+
+It was not long after this that a stealthy step was heard on the gravel
+path and Phoebe hurried to the door. Copernicus came in with a low
+word of greeting and followed the ghostly shadow of his hostess into the
+parlor.
+
+The three stood together in the dark and conversed in an undertone,
+like so many conspirators surrounded by spies.
+
+"Hev ye got everythin' ready?" Droop asked.
+
+"Yes," said Phoebe. "The's only two little trunks for you. Did you
+bring the wheelbarrow?"
+
+"Yep--I left it outside the gate. 'Twould hev made a lot of noise on the
+gravel inside."
+
+"That's right," said Phoebe. "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?"
+
+"Why, 'f course," said Droop.
+
+"But how 'bout linen--sheets an' table-cloths an' all?" said Rebecca.
+"We'll need some o' them on the trip, won't we?"
+
+"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."
+
+"How long do you s'pose it'll take to make the trip," asked Phoebe. "I
+mean by the clock? We won't have to do any washing on the way, will we?"
+
+"I don't see how we can," Rebecca broke in. "The's not a blessed tub on
+the hull machine."
+
+"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'----"
+
+"Side weight!" exclaimed the two women together.
+
+"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."
+
+"Well," said Phoebe, briskly, "that's no kind o' reason fer dawdlin'
+about it now. Let's be startin'."
+
+"Where's the trunks?" said Droop.
+
+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.
+
+"'S anythin' more?" he asked.
+
+"No," said Rebecca. "We'll bring on our special duds in our arms. We'll
+wait a spell an' come on separate."
+
+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.
+
+"Now, then," said Phoebe, bustling into the parlor, "let's get our
+things all together ready to start. Have ye got your satchel with the
+money in it?"
+
+Rebecca gently slapped a black leather bag hanging at her side.
+
+"Here 'tis," she said.
+
+"Let's see," Phoebe 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."
+
+"Whatever air ye takin' that old book fer, Phoebe?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"Don't ask me," Phoebe exclaimed, despairingly. "'F I knew what 'twas
+like, perhaps I wouldn't feel so like goin'."
+
+She straightened herself suddenly and stood rigid.
+
+"Hark!" she exclaimed. "Is that Mr. Droop comin' back, d'you s'pose?"
+
+There were distinctly audible footsteps on the path.
+
+Phoebe came out into the hall on tiptoe and stood beside her sister.
+
+There was a knock on the door. The two sisters gripped each other's arms
+excitedly.
+
+"'Taint Copernicus!" Rebecca whispered very low.
+
+The knock was repeated; rather louder this time. Then--
+
+"Miss Wise--Miss Wise--are ye to home?"
+
+It was a woman's voice.
+
+"Sarah Allen!" Phoebe exclaimed under her breath.
+
+"Whatever shall we do?" Rebecca replied.
+
+"Miss Wise," the voice repeated, and then their visitor knocked again,
+much more loudly.
+
+"I'll go to the door," exclaimed Phoebe.
+
+"But----"
+
+"I must. She'll raise the whole town if I don't."
+
+So saying, Phoebe walked noisily to the door and unlocked it.
+
+"Is that you, Mis' Allen?" she asked.
+
+The door was opened, and Phoebe found herself face to face with a
+short, light woman whose white garments shone gray in the night.
+
+"Why, you're up'n dressed!" exclaimed Mrs. Allen. She did not offer to
+enter, but went on excitedly:
+
+"Miss Phoebe," she said, "d'you know I b'lieve you've ben robbed."
+
+"What!"
+
+"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
+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'?"
+
+As the little woman paused for breath, Phoebe seized her opportunity.
+
+"Did you say he went off to the north, Mis' Allen?" she said, with
+feigned excitement.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Oh, dear--oh, dear!" cried Phoebe, 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.
+
+"Is Miss Rebecca there?" asked Mrs. Allen.
+
+Rebecca came forward in silence. She was quite nonplussed. To tell the
+truth, Phoebe's sudden outburst was as great a tax upon her nerves as
+Mrs. Allen's unwelcome visit. Surely Phoebe 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 Phoebe's apparent perturbation.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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!"
+
+She turned and sped down the path. She had not reached the gate before
+Phoebe walked rapidly into the parlor.
+
+"Quick--quick!" she panted, frantically gathering up her belongings.
+"Get your duds an' come along."
+
+"But what d'you----"
+
+"Come--come--come!" cried Phoebe. "Come quick or they'll all be here.
+Gun and all!"
+
+With her arm full of bundles, Phoebe rushed back through the hall and
+out of the front door. Rebecca followed her, drawn along by the fiery
+momentum of her sister.
+
+"Lock the front door, Rebecca," Phoebe cried. Then, as she reached the
+gate and found it fastened: "Here, I can't undo the gate. My hands are
+full. Oh, _do_ hurry, Rebecca! We haven't a minute!"
+
+The elder sister locked the front door and started down the path in
+such a nervous fever that she left the key in the lock. Half way to the
+gate she paused.
+
+"Come on--come on!" Phoebe cried, stamping her foot.
+
+"My land!" stammered Rebecca. "I've forgot everythin'!" She started
+back, running with short, unaccustomed steps.
+
+"My umbrella!" she gasped. "My recipes--my slips!"
+
+Phoebe was speechless with anger and apprehension at this delay, and
+Rebecca was therefore allowed to re-enter the house without objection.
+
+In a short time she reappeared carrying an umbrella, two flower-pots,
+and a folded newspaper.
+
+"There!" she panted, as she came up to her sister and opened the gate.
+"Now I guess I've got everythin'!"
+
+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.
+
+"We'll hev to go more careful here," said Rebecca as they turned into
+the lane leading down to the swamp.
+
+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.
+
+Here the sisters leaned against the wall to rest and recover breath.
+
+"My goodness, but that was a narrow escape!" murmured Phoebe.
+
+"Yes," said Rebecca, with reproachful sadness; "but I'm afraid you paid
+a heavy price fer it, Phoebe!"
+
+"What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, 's fur's I could make out, you told Mis' Allen a deliberate wrong
+story, Phoebe Wise."
+
+"What did I say?" said Phoebe, in shocked surprise.
+
+"You said you hed told me you'd heerd a burglar!"
+
+"Did I say that? Those very words?"
+
+"Why, you know you did."
+
+"Wasn't it a question, Rebecca?" Phoebe insisted. "Didn't I _ask_ you
+ef I hadn't told you I heard a burglar?"
+
+"No, it was a plain downright wrong story, Phoebe, an' you needn't to
+try to sneak out of it."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Phoebe 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."
+
+"Well, Rebecca," tittered her sister, "I didn't have it on my mind
+yesterday, did I?"
+
+"Course not--but----"
+
+"An' won't it be yesterday for us mighty soon--yes, an' a heap longer
+ago than that?"
+
+She laughed again merrily and began to climb over the wall, a proceeding
+not rendered easier by the various articles in her hands.
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+"Never mind our dresses, Mr. Droop," said Phoebe. "Where can we put
+down all these things? My arms are breakin' off."
+
+"Right here, Cousin Phoebe."
+
+Droop bustled over to the state-rooms, opening both the doors at once.
+
+"Here's a room apiece fer ye. Take yer choice."
+
+"Oh, but where'll you sleep?" said Phoebe. "P'raps Rebecca and I'd
+better have one room together."
+
+"Not a bit of it," said Droop. "I'll sleep on one o' them settles under
+the windows. They're real comfortable."
+
+"Well--just as you say."
+
+The sisters entered their rooms and deposited their bundles, but
+Phoebe returned at once and called to Droop, who had started down the
+stairs.
+
+"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."
+
+Just then they heard the loud barking of a dog. He was apparently
+running rapidly down the lane.
+
+"Sakes alive!" cried Phoebe, in alarm. "Slam to that door, Copernicus
+Droop! Si has let his dog loose an' he's on your tracks!"
+
+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.
+
+"Sic um, Touser, sic um! Where is he, boy?"
+
+Up the stairs went Copernicus two steps at a time. He dashed into the
+anteroom, pale and breathless.
+
+"Lie down on the floor!" he shouted. "Lie down or ye'll get throwed
+down. I'm agoin' to start her!"
+
+By this time he had opened the engine-room door.
+
+The two women promptly lay flat on their backs on the carpet.
+
+Droop braced himself firmly and had just grasped the starting lever when
+a cry from Rebecca arrested him.
+
+"Copernicus Droop--hold on!" she cried.
+
+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.
+
+"Copernicus Droop," she said, solemnly, "hev ye brought any rum aboard
+with ye? 'Cause if ye have I won't----"
+
+She never concluded, for at this moment her head was jerked back sharply
+against the floor by a tremendous upward leap of the machine.
+
+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.
+
+The Panchronicon had started.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+A CHANGE OF PLAN
+
+
+It was long after their bed-time and the two sisters 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 Phoebe long courted sleep in vain.
+
+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.
+
+They were awakened next morning by a knocking upon Rebecca's door.
+
+"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'."
+
+"What! Why! Who! Where! Sakes! what's this?"
+
+Rebecca sat up in bed, unable to place herself.
+
+"It's pretty nigh half-past eight," Copernicus repeated. "Long after
+breakfast-time. I'm hungry!"
+
+By this time Phoebe was wide awake.
+
+"All right!" she cried. "We'll come in a minute."
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Good-mornin', Cousin Phoebe," he said, with his suavest manner.
+
+"Good-morning, Mr. Droop," Phoebe replied. "Where are we? Is
+everything all right?"
+
+She made straight for one of the windows the iron shutters of which were
+now open.
+
+"I wish't you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," Droop remarked.
+
+"Oh--oh! What a beautiful world!"
+
+Phoebe leaned her face close to the glass and gazed spell-bound at the
+wonderful landscape spread before her.
+
+The whole atmosphere seemed filled with a clear, cold sunlight whose
+brilliance irradiated the giant sphere of earth so far away.
+
+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.
+
+So new--so intensely, almost painfully, beautiful was this scene that
+Phoebe stood transfixed--fascinated. She did not even think of
+speaking.
+
+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.
+
+Approaching Phoebe's side, he said:
+
+"Mighty pretty, ain't it?"
+
+She did not reply, so he continued:
+
+"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."
+
+He strolled toward the table, as if inviting Phoebe to see his chart
+which lay there unrolled. She did not follow him.
+
+"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."
+
+He gazed wistfully at Phoebe, who did not move or speak, but let her
+eyes wander in awed delight over the wonders thus brought before them.
+
+Just then Rebecca emerged from her room.
+
+"Good-mornin'," she said. "I guess I'm late."
+
+"Good-mornin', Cousin Rebecca; I guess ye are a mite late. Cousin
+Phoebe 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."
+
+"Goodness me!" exclaimed Rebecca. "Ain't that mos' too high, Mr. Droop?"
+She hurried to the window and looked out.
+
+"Sakes alive!" she gasped.
+
+She was silent for a moment, awed in her turn by the immensity of the
+prospect.
+
+"Why--but--it's all water underneath!" she exclaimed at last. "Ef we was
+to fall now, we'd be drowned!"
+
+"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."
+
+Rebecca turned from the window at once and made for the kitchen.
+
+"Phoebe," she said, briskly, "you set the table now an' I'll hev
+breakfast ready in a twinklin'."
+
+Reluctantly Phoebe 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.
+
+In due time a simple but substantial breakfast was in readiness, and
+the three travellers were seated around the table partaking of the meal
+each in his own way.
+
+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. Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+He glanced through the kitchen door at the barometer on the wall in the
+outer room.
+
+"We've climbed near a mile since before breakfast," he remarked.
+
+Rebecca paused before hanging up the soap-shaker.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Why, Rebecca," said Phoebe, 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."
+
+"Quicker!" Droop exclaimed. "Considerable quicker, Cousin Rebecca, fer
+it would take us a good deal longer to fall five miles than it would
+one."
+
+"But what ever's the use o' keepin' on a-climbin'?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Well, but won't we get too high?" suggested Phoebe. "Ain't the air
+too thin up very high?"
+
+"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."
+
+He rose and started for the engine-room.
+
+"How do you let down?" Phoebe asked, pausing in her work.
+
+"Why, I jest turn the wings horizontal, ye know, an' then we sink very
+slow till I incline 'em up again."
+
+He disappeared. Phoebe gave the last of the dishes a brief touch of
+the dish-towel and then ran into the main room to watch the barometer.
+
+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 that they had now passed the sea and only the blue land
+with silver streaks of river and indigo hill shadows was beneath them.
+
+"How fast do you s'pose we're flyin', Mr. Droop?" she asked.
+
+"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."
+
+"My gracious!" cried Phoebe. "What if we was to hit something!"
+
+"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."
+
+"Why, how's that?"
+
+"The sides o' the machine rubbin' on the air," said Droop.
+
+"That's so," Phoebe replied. "That's what heats up meteors so awful
+hot, ain't it?"
+
+Rebecca came out of the kitchen at this moment.
+
+"I must say ye wasn't particler about gettin' all the pans to rights
+'fore ye left the kitchen, Phoebe. Ben makin' the beds?"
+
+"Land, no, Rebecca!" said Phoebe, blushing guiltily.
+
+"Well, there!"
+
+Rebecca said no more, but her set lips and puckered forehead spoke much
+of displeasure as she stalked across to the state-rooms.
+
+"Well, I declare to goodness!" she cried, as she opened her door. "Ye
+hevn't even opened the window to air the rooms!"
+
+Phoebe looked quite miserable at thought of her remissness, but
+Copernicus came bravely to the rescue.
+
+"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."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes," said Phoebe, briskly, "I couldn't air the beds an' make 'em
+because we're going one hundred and thirty odd miles an hour, Rebecca."
+
+"D'you mean to tell me, Copernicus Droop," cried the outraged spinster,
+"that I've got to go 'thout airin' my bed?"
+
+"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."
+
+Rebecca looked far from pleased at this.
+
+"I declare, ef I'd known of all these doin's," she muttered.
+
+Unable to remain idle, she set to work "putting things to rights," as
+she called it, while Phoebe took her book to the west window and was
+soon lost in certain modern theories concerning the Baconian authorship
+of Shakespeare's works.
+
+"Is these duds yourn, Mr. Droop?" asked Rebecca, sharply, pointing to a
+motley collection of goods piled in one corner of the main room.
+
+"Yes," Droop replied, coming quickly to her side. "Them's some of the
+inventions I'm carryin' along."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Droop replaced his goods with a sigh of relief. One box he retained,
+however, and, placing it upon the table, proceeded to unpack it.
+
+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.
+
+"Phoebe," 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."
+
+Phoebe looked up from her book.
+
+"Why don't ye spread out that newspaper you brought with you?" she said.
+
+Rebecca shook her head.
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe laid down her book and walked over to her sister's side.
+
+"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 _New York
+World_ for a Sunday--pictures an' all! Here--take this advertisin' piece
+an' spread it out--so."
+
+She tore off a portion of the voluminous paper and carefully spread it
+out on one of the eastern settles.
+
+"Whatever did you bring those slips with you for?" she asked.
+
+Rebecca deposited the flower-pots carefully in the sun and slapped her
+hands across each other to remove the dust on them.
+
+"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."
+
+This train of reasoning seemed satisfactory, and Phoebe turned to
+resume her book.
+
+Copernicus intercepted her as she passed the table.
+
+"What d'ye think o' this little phonograph, Cousin Phoebe?" he said.
+
+One of Droop's boxes stood open and beside it Phoebe saw a phonograph
+with the usual spring motor and brass megaphone.
+
+"I paid twenty-five fer that, secon' hand, down to Keene," said the
+proud owner.
+
+"There!" exclaimed Phoebe. "I've always wanted to know how those
+things worked. I've heard 'em, you know, but I've never worked one."
+
+"It's real easy," said Droop, quite delighted to find Phoebe 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."
+
+He adjusted the cylinder, dropped the stylus and pushed the starting
+lever.
+
+Instantly the stentorian announcement rang out from the megaphone.
+
+"The Last Rose of Summer--Sola--Sung by Signora Casta Diva--Edison
+Record!"
+
+"Goodness gracious sakes alive!" cried Rebecca, turning in affright.
+"Who's that?"
+
+Her two companions raised their right hands in a simultaneous appeal for
+silence. Then the song began.
+
+With open eyes and mouth, the amazed Rebecca drew slowly nearer, and
+finally took her stand directly in front of the megaphone.
+
+The song ended and Copernicus stopped the motor.
+
+"Oh, ain't it lovely!" Phoebe cried.
+
+"Well--I'll--be--switched!" Rebecca exclaimed, with slow emphasis. "Can
+it sing anythin' else?"
+
+"Didn't you never hear one afore, Cousin Rebecca?" Droop asked.
+
+"I never did," she replied. "What on the face of the green airth does
+it?"
+
+"Have ye any funny ones?" Phoebe asked, quickly, fearful of receiving
+a long scientific lecture.
+
+"Yes," said Droop. "Here's a nigger minstrels. The's some jokes in it."
+
+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.
+
+"Is thet all?" she asked at the conclusion.
+
+"Thet's all," said Droop, as he removed the cylinder.
+
+"Well, I don't see nothin' funny 'bout it," she said, plaintively.
+
+Droop's pride was touched.
+
+"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."
+
+This was too much for Rebecca's credulity, and Droop could not induce
+her to talk into the trumpet.
+
+"You can't make a fool o' me, Copernicus Droop," she exclaimed.
+
+"You try, Cousin Phoebe," he said at last.
+
+Phoebe looked dubiously at her sister as though half of opinion that
+her shrewd example should be followed.
+
+"You sure it'll do it?" she asked.
+
+"Certain!" cried Copernicus, nodding his head with violence.
+
+She stood a moment leaning over with her pretty lips close to the
+trumpet.
+
+Then she straightened up with a face of comical despair.
+
+"I don't know what to say," she exclaimed.
+
+Droop stopped the motor and looked about the room. Suddenly his eyes
+brightened.
+
+"There," he cried, pointing to the book Phoebe had been reading, "read
+suthin' out o' that into it."
+
+Phoebe opened the book at random, and as Droop started the motor again
+she read the following lines slowly and distinctly into the trumpet:
+
+"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."
+
+"That'll do," said Droop. "Now jest hear it talk back."
+
+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 Phoebe's words was perfect.
+
+"Why! It's Phoebe's voice," she began, but Phoebe broke in upon her
+suddenly.
+
+"Why, see the hills on each side of us, Mr. Droop," she cried.
+
+Droop glanced out and leaped a foot from the ground.
+
+"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 Phoebe had seen appeared to drop into
+some great abyss.
+
+The two women ran to a window and saw that they were over a bleak and
+rocky island covered with ice and snow.
+
+Droop came to their side, quite pale with fright.
+
+"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.
+
+"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 Phoebe or me till we get to the pole. What time'll
+that be?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"When it comes time fer your victuals, Phoebe'll 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."
+
+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 Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"How'll you know when we get there?" asked Phoebe.
+
+Droop glanced apprehensively at Rebecca and replied in a whisper:
+
+"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."
+
+"You don't need to whisper--speak right up, Mr. Droop," said Rebecca,
+sharply.
+
+Copernicus started, looked nervously about and then stared out of the
+window northward with a very business-like frown.
+
+"Is the' really an' truly a pole there?" Phoebe asked.
+
+"Yes," said Droop, shortly.
+
+"An' can ye see the meridians jammed together like in the geographies?"
+asked Rebecca.
+
+"No," said Droop, "no, indeed--at least, I didn't see any."
+
+"Why, Rebecca," said Phoebe, "the meridians are only conventional
+signs, you know. They don't----"
+
+"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.
+
+"It's the pole!" he exclaimed.
+
+Phoebe snatched the spyglass and applied it to her eye.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+In silence the three waited for the approaching 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.
+
+They had arrived!
+
+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.
+
+"Thet, neighbors, is the North Pole!" he said, with a sweeping wave of
+the hand.
+
+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!
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Rebecca at length. "I be switched ef I see what there
+is fer so many folks to make sech a fuss about!"
+
+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.
+
+"Where's the open sea?" Rebecca asked, after a few moments' pause. "Dr.
+Kane said the' was an open sea up here."
+
+"Oh, Dr. Kane!" said Droop, contemptuously. "He's no 'count fer modern
+facts."
+
+"What I can't understand," said Phoebe, "is how it comes that, if
+nobody's ever been up here, they all seem to know there's a North Pole
+here."
+
+"That's a fact," Rebecca exclaimed. "How'd they know about it? The'
+ain't anythin' in the Bible 'bout it, is the'?"
+
+Droop looked more cheerful at this and answered briskly:
+
+"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."
+
+"Oh!" exclaimed both sisters together.
+
+"Yes," Droop continued. "D'ye see thet big iron ring 'round the pole,
+lyin' on the ground?"
+
+"I don't see any ground," said Rebecca, ruefully.
+
+"Well, on the ice, then. Don't ye see it lyin' black there against the
+snow?"
+
+"Yes--yes, I see it," said Phoebe.
+
+"Well, that's what I'm goin' to hitch the holdin' rope on to. You'll see
+how it's done presently."
+
+He glanced at the clock.
+
+"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."
+
+"Seven o'clock!" cried Rebecca. "So 'tis. Why, what's the matter with
+the sun. Ain't it goin' to set at all?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Well!" was the breathless reply. "An' where in creation does it go when
+it stays set?"
+
+"Why, Rebecca," exclaimed Phoebe, "the sun is south of the equator in
+winter, you know."
+
+"Shinin' on the South Pole then," Droop added, nodding.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+She started toward her door.
+
+"Hold on!" cried Droop, extending his arm to stop her. "You don't want
+to fall down dead o' cold, do ye?"
+
+"What!"
+
+"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. Don't you open a window--not a tiny crack--if ye don't want to
+freeze solid in a second."
+
+"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!"
+
+She marched indignantly into her room and closed the door. A moment
+later she put out her head.
+
+"Phoebe 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."
+
+Phoebe smiled and moved toward her own door.
+
+"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."
+
+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 Phoebe 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.
+
+"I could'v aired my bed at least," she muttered, as she turned the
+mattress of her couch in the solitude of her chamber.
+
+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.
+
+"I guess I'll go help Phoebe," she thought. "The girl is that slow!"
+
+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.
+
+She did not disturb him, but turned and entered Phoebe's room without
+the formality of knocking. As she opened the door, there was a sharp
+clatter, as of a door or lid slamming.
+
+"Who's there?" cried Phoebe, sharply.
+
+She was seated on the floor in front of her trunk, and she looked up at
+her sister with a flushed and startled face.
+
+"Oh, it's you!" she said, guiltily.
+
+Rebecca glanced at the bed.
+
+It had not been touched.
+
+"Well, I declare!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Ain't you ever agoin' to fix up
+your room, Phoebe Wise?"
+
+"Oh, in a minute, Rebecca. I was just agoin' over my trunk a minute."
+
+She leaned back against the foot of the bed, and folding her hands gazed
+pensively into vacancy, while Rebecca stared at her in astonishment.
+
+"Do you know," Phoebe 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!"
+
+Rebecca gave vent to an unintelligible murmur and turned to Phoebe'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.
+
+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.
+
+"Rebecca!"
+
+The spinster made no reply but applied herself to a mathematically
+accurate adjustment of the top edge of the upper sheet.
+
+"Rebecca!"
+
+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.
+
+Rebecca looked up.
+
+Phoebe was still sitting on the floor beside her trunk, but the trunk
+was open now and the young woman's rosy face was peering with a
+pathetic smile over a--what!--could it be!
+
+Rebecca leaned forward in amazement.
+
+Yes, it was! In Phoebe's outstretched hands was the dearest possible
+little baby's undergarment--all of cambric, with narrow ribbons at the
+neck.
+
+For a few seconds the two sisters looked at each other over this
+unexpected barrier. Then Phoebe's lips quivered into a pathetic curve
+and she buried her face in the little garment, laughing and crying at
+once.
+
+Rebecca dropped helplessly into a chair.
+
+"Phoebe Martin Wise!" she exclaimed. "Do you mean--hev you
+brought----?"
+
+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 Phoebe's room and into her own.
+
+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.
+
+He was at length startled from his preoccupation by a gentle voice at
+his side.
+
+"Can't I help, Mr. Droop?"
+
+It was Phoebe, who, having made all right in her room and washed all
+traces of tears from her face, had come to note Droop's progress.
+
+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.
+
+"I--I wish'd you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," he said for the fifth
+time.
+
+She picked up one of the sheets on which he had been scribbling as
+though she had not heard him, and said:
+
+"Why, dear me! How comes it you have so much figurin' to do?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"But you said eighteen hours by the clock would do it."
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe seated herself at the table and took up a blank sheet of paper.
+
+"Please lend me your pencil," she said. "Now, then, every time you
+whirl once 'round the pole to westward you lose one day, don't you?"
+
+"That's it," said Droop, cheerfully. "Cuttin' twenty-four meridians----"
+
+"And how many days in twenty-two years?" Phoebe broke in.
+
+"You mean in six years."
+
+"Why, no," she replied, glancing at Droop with a mischievous smile,
+"it's twenty-two years back to 1876, ain't it?"
+
+"To '76--why, but----"
+
+He caught sight of her face and stopped short.
+
+There came a pleased voice from one of the state-rooms.
+
+"Yes, we've decided to go all the way back, Mr. Droop."
+
+It was Rebecca.
+
+She came forward and stood beside her sister, placing one hand
+affectionately upon her shoulder.
+
+Droop leaned back in his chair with both hands on the edge of the table.
+
+"Goin' all the way! Why, but then----"
+
+He leaped to his feet with a radiant face.
+
+"Great Jumpin' Jerusha!" he cried.
+
+Slapping his thigh he began to pace excitedly up and down.
+
+"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."
+
+"Eight thousand and thirty-five," said Phoebe in a quiet voice,
+putting her pencil to her lips. "We'll have to whirl round the pole
+eight thousand and thirty-five times."
+
+"Whose goin' to keep count?" asked Rebecca, cheerfully. Ah, how
+different it all seemed now! Every dry detail was of interest.
+
+Phoebe looked up at Droop, who now resumed his seat, somewhat sobered.
+
+"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."
+
+"Then what do you want to calculate how often to whirl round?" asked
+Phoebe, in disgusted tones.
+
+"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."
+
+"I see," said Phoebe. "Well, then, how many times a minute did the
+future man take you when you whirled back five weeks?"
+
+"'Bout two times a minute."
+
+"That's one hundred and twenty times every hour. Did you feel much side
+weight then?"
+
+"Scarcely any."
+
+"Well, let's see. Divide eight thousand and thirty-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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Sixty-seven hours," said Phoebe. "Well, that ain't so bad, is it? Why
+not go round twice a minute?"
+
+"We can't air our beds fer three days, Phoebe," said Rebecca.
+
+"But if we go much faster, we'll all be sick with this side weight
+trouble that Mr. Droop tells about."
+
+"I vote fer twice a minute," said Droop. And so twice a minute was
+adopted.
+
+"Air ye goin' to start to-night, Mr. Droop?" asked Rebecca.
+
+"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."
+
+"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 get to sleep las' night till
+goodness knows when. Good-night! Hedn't you better go, too, Phoebe?"
+
+"I guess I will," said Phoebe, turning to Copernicus. "Good-night, Mr.
+Droop."
+
+"Good-night, Cousin Phoebe--good-night, Cousin Rebecca. I'll go to bed
+myself, I b'lieve."
+
+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.
+
+In half an hour all were asleep within the now motionless conveyance.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+DROOP'S THEORY IN PRACTICE
+
+
+All were up betimes when the faithful clock announced 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.
+
+Promptly after breakfast Droop proceeded to don a suit of furs which he
+drew from a cupboard within the engine-room.
+
+"Ye'd better hev suthin' hot ready when I come in again," he said. "I
+'xpect I'll be nigh froze to death."
+
+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.
+
+"My, but you do look just like a pictur of Kris Kringle!" laughed
+Phoebe. "Don't he, Rebecca?"
+
+Rebecca came to the kitchen door wiping a dish with slow circular
+movements of her towel.
+
+"I don't guess you'll freeze very much with all that on," she remarked.
+
+"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?" Droop continued, looking appealingly at Phoebe.
+
+"The'll be a pot o' good hot tea," she said. "That'll warm you all
+right."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"All right!" said Phoebe. "I'll see to it."
+
+Droop descended the stairs with a heavy tread, and as he reached the
+foot Phoebe closed the upper door, which she now noticed was provided
+with weather-strips.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+He emerged from beneath the bulging side of the 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, Phoebe ran to
+the kitchen.
+
+"Poor man, he'll be perished!" she exclaimed.
+
+As Droop entered the room, bringing with him a bitter atmosphere,
+Phoebe appeared with a large cup of hot tea.
+
+"Here, Mr. Droop," she said, "drink this quick!"
+
+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.
+
+"Whillikins! But 'twas cold!" he exclaimed. "Seems mos' like heaven to
+get into a nice warm room like this!"
+
+"An' did ye get every thin' done right?" Rebecca asked.
+
+"I guess I did," he said, emphatically. "I don't want to take no two
+bites out o' that kind o' cherry."
+
+He rose and proceeded to remove his fur coverings.
+
+"Goin' to start right now?" said Phoebe.
+
+"Might's well, I guess."
+
+He proceeded to the engine-room, followed by Phoebe, who watched his
+actions with the greatest interest.
+
+"What you doin' with that handle?" she asked.
+
+"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'."
+
+"How are you goin' to lift us up?"
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe glanced at the clock.
+
+"Just five minutes past eight," she said.
+
+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.
+
+Droop took out his watch and timed their revolutions by the sun's
+progress from window to window.
+
+"'Bout one to the minute," he remarked. "Guess I'll speed her up a
+mite."
+
+Carefully he regulated the speed, timing their revolutions accurately.
+
+"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.
+
+"No," said Rebecca.
+
+Phoebe shook her head.
+
+"You manage right well, Mr. Droop," she said. "You must have practised a
+good deal."
+
+"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."
+
+These remarks brought a new idea to Rebecca's mind.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+"An' besides," exclaimed Phoebe, "it's a heap more fun to be the only
+ones can use the thing, I think."
+
+"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,
+Phoebe. We can't make beds till night with the windows tight shut."
+
+These suggestions were followed by the two women, while Droop, picking
+up the newspaper which Rebecca had brought, sat down to read.
+
+After a long term of quiet reading, his attention was distracted by
+Rebecca's voice.
+
+"I declare to goodness, Phoebe!" she was saying. "Seems's if every
+chance you get, you go to readin' those old letters."
+
+"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," Phoebe replied.
+
+Droop looked over his paper. Phoebe and her sister were seated near
+one of the windows on the opposite side.
+
+"P'raps I could help ye, Cousin Phoebe," he said. "I've got mighty
+strong eyesight."
+
+"Oh, 'tain't a question of eyesight," Phoebe replied, laughing.
+
+"Oh, I see," said Droop, smiling slyly, "letters from some young feller,
+eh?"
+
+He winked knowingly at Rebecca, who drew herself up indignantly and
+looked severely down at her knitting.
+
+Phoebe blushed, but replied quite calmly:
+
+"Yes--some of them from a young man, but they weren't any of them
+written to me."
+
+"No?" said Droop. "Who was they to--'f I may ask?"
+
+"They were all written to this lady."
+
+Phoebe held something out for Droop's inspection, and he walked over
+to take it.
+
+He recognized at once the miniature on ivory which he had seen once
+before in Peltonville.
+
+"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 Phoebe. Who is it,
+anyway?"
+
+"It isn't anybody," she replied, "but it _was_ 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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"Would you like to hear some of them?" Phoebe asked.
+
+"I would fer a fact," he replied.
+
+"Well, bring your chair over here and I'll read you one," she said.
+
+Droop seated himself near the two sisters and Phoebe unfolded a large
+and rather rough sheet of paper, yellow with age, on which Droop
+perceived a bold scrawl in a faded ink.
+
+"This seems to have been from Mary Burton's father," Phoebe said. "I
+don't think he can have been a very nice man. This is what he says:
+
+"'Dear Poll'--horrid nickname, isn't it?"
+
+"Seems so to me," said Droop.
+
+"'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'----"
+
+Phoebe hesitated.
+
+"He uses a bad word there," she said, in a low tone. "I'll go on and
+leave that out."
+
+"Yes, do," said Droop.
+
+"'That ---- aunt of thine,'" she continued, reading. "'I know her tricks
+and I learn how she hath suffered that'----"
+
+"There's another," said Phoebe.
+
+"Skip it," said Droop, gravely.
+
+"'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.'"
+
+"It is signed 'Isaac Burton,'" said Phoebe, "and see, the paper was
+sealed with a steel gauntlet."
+
+Droop examined the seal carefully and then returned it, saying:
+
+"Looks to me like a bunch of 'sparagus tumbled over on one side."
+
+Phoebe laughed.
+
+"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'----"
+
+"What's a 'wottest'?" said Droop, in puzzled tones.
+
+"Wottest means knowest--haven't you read Shakespeare?"
+
+"No," said Droop.
+
+"'The players thou wottest of are to stop at the Peacock, and will be
+giving some sport there.'
+
+"Now, those players always interest me," Phoebe continued. "Somehow I
+can't help but believe that William Shakespeare----"
+
+"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."
+
+Droop consulted the date indicator and announced that it was now
+September 5, 1897.
+
+"Not a year yet!" cried the two women together.
+
+"Why, no," said Copernicus. "Ye see, we are takin' about three hours to
+lose a year."
+
+"Fer the lands sakes!" cried Rebecca. "Can't we go a little faster?"
+
+"My gracious, yes!" said Droop. "But I'm 'fraid o' the side weight fer
+ye."
+
+"I'd rather hev side weight than wait forever," said Rebecca, with a
+grim smile.
+
+"D'ye think ye could stand a little more speed, Cousin Phoebe?" said
+Droop.
+
+"We might try," she replied.
+
+"Well, let's try, then," he said, and turned promptly to the
+engine-room.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"There! now ye feel the side weight," he exclaimed.
+
+"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."
+
+"Why, that is the centrifugal force," Phoebe said, with dignity.
+
+"It's the side weight--that's what I call it," Droop replied,
+obstinately, and for some time there was silence.
+
+"How many years back are we makin' by the hour now, Mr. Droop?" Rebecca
+asked at length.
+
+"Jest a little over two hours fer a year now," he replied.
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe laughed and Droop replied:
+
+"If ye can't stand it or set it, why lay, Cousin Rebecca. The's good
+settles all 'round."
+
+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.
+
+The remainder of the morning was spent in almost completely silent work
+or reading. Droop scarce took his eyes from his book. Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+By supper-time there was certainly a less aged air about each of the
+three and the elders inwardly congratulated themselves upon the
+unmistakable effects of another twelve hours.
+
+Not long after the supper dishes had been washed, Rebecca took Phoebe
+aside and said:
+
+"Phoebe, 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."
+
+This view of the probabilities had not yet struck Phoebe.
+
+"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."
+
+Then a new problem presented itself.
+
+"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."
+
+"Thet's so," said Rebecca, thoughtfully. Then, after a pause: "I don't
+see but ye'll hev to stay abed, Phoebe, till we get to th' end," she
+said, sympathetically.
+
+"There it is," said Phoebe, crossly. "Gettin' sent to bed
+a'ready--even before I expected it."
+
+"But 'tain't that, Phoebe," said Rebecca, with great concern. "I ain't
+sendin' ye to bed--but--but--whatever else _can_ ye do with a _man_ in
+the house!"
+
+"Nothin'," Phoebe replied, with a toss of her chin.
+
+She crossed the room and held out her hand to Droop.
+
+"Good-night, Mr. Droop," she said.
+
+Surprised at this sudden demonstration of friendship, he took her hand
+and tipped his head to one side as he looked into her face.
+
+"Next time you see me, I don't suppose you'll know me, I'll be so
+little," she said, trying to laugh.
+
+"I--I wish't you'd call me Cousin Copernicus," he said, coaxingly.
+
+"Well, p'raps I will when I see ye again," she replied, freeing her hand
+with a slight effort.
+
+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.
+
+"July 2, 1892," he said to himself. "I'm only thirty-four years old.
+Don't feel any older than that, either."
+
+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.
+
+He soon dozed off and was whisked through a quick 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.
+
+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.
+
+Sleep evaded him, however. His mind reverted to the all-important
+question of the recovered years. He began to plan again.
+
+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.
+
+Then--rich, young, sober, he would seek out a charming, rosy,
+good-natured girl--something of the type of Phoebe, for instance. They
+would be married and----
+
+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.
+
+"Well, come!" he thought. "The old Panchronicon is a steady vessel.
+She's keepin' right on."
+
+He put on his shoes again, for something made him nervous and he wished
+to walk up and down.
+
+The first thing he did after his shoes were donned was to gaze at
+himself in the mirror.
+
+"Don't look any younger," he thought, "but I feel so." He walked across
+the room once or twice.
+
+"Shucks!" he exclaimed. "Couldn't expect to look younger in these old
+duds, an' at this time o' night, too--tired like I am."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+But sleep would not return. He tried every position, every trick for
+propitiating Morpheus. All in vain.
+
+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.
+
+It said September 30, 1889.
+
+Again he looked into the glass.
+
+"My, but I'm nervous!" he thought as he turned away, disappointed. "I
+look older than ever!"
+
+As he paced the floor there all alone, he began to doubt for the first
+time the success of his plan.
+
+"It _must_ work right!" he said aloud. "Didn't I go back five weeks
+with that future man? Didn't he----"
+
+A fearful thought struck him. Had he perhaps made a mistake? Had they
+been cutting meridians the wrong way?
+
+But no; the indicator could not be wrong, and that registered a
+constantly earlier date.
+
+"Ah, I know!" he suddenly exclaimed. "I'll ask Cousin Phoebe."
+
+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.
+
+He walked directly to Phoebe's door and knocked--first softly, then
+more loudly.
+
+"Cousin Phoebe--Cousin Phoebe," he said.
+
+After a few calls and knockings, there came a sleepy reply from within.
+
+"Well--what--who is it?"
+
+"It's Cousin Copernicus," he said. "Please tell me. Hev ye shrunk any
+yet?"
+
+"What--how?" The tones were very sleepy indeed.
+
+"Hev ye shrunk any yet? Are ye growin' littler in there? Oh, please feel
+fer the footboard with yer toe!"
+
+He waited and heard a rustling as of someone moving in bed.
+
+"Did ye feel the footboard?" he asked.
+
+"Yes--kicked it good--now let me sleep." She was ill-natured with much
+drowsiness.
+
+Poor Droop staggered away from the door as though he had been struck.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+SHIPWRECKED ON THE SANDS OF TIME
+
+
+Rebecca was the first of the three to waken. Over her small window she
+had hung a black shawl to keep out the light, and upon this screen were
+thrown recurrent flashes of sunlight.
+
+"Still a-swingin'," she murmured. "Wonder how fur back we be now!"
+
+She was herself surprised at the eagerness she felt to observe at last
+the results of their extraordinary attempt.
+
+She rose quickly and was very soon ready to leave her room. She was
+longing to see Phoebe--Phoebe as she had been when a girl.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+She entertained so violent a repugnance for liquors and for men under
+their influence that she could not bring herself to approach Copernicus.
+
+"He's gone an' got drunk again," she muttered, glaring with helpless
+anger at the bottles and then at him.
+
+"Mister Droop! Copernicus Droop!" she cried in a high, sharp voice.
+
+There was no reply.
+
+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.
+
+The chair struck violently against Droop's seat, and even caused his
+body to sway slightly, but he still slept and gave no sign.
+
+"That settles it!" she exclaimed, with mingled disgust and alarm in her
+face.
+
+"What's the matter?"
+
+It was Phoebe who called.
+
+"It's me," said Rebecca. "Can I come in?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Rebecca walked into Phoebe's room, which she found darkened like her
+own. Her sister was in bed.
+
+"What ever happened to you?" Phoebe asked. "Sounded as though ye'd
+fallen down or somethin'."
+
+Rebecca stood stiffly with her back to the closed door, her hands folded
+before her.
+
+"Copernicus Droop is tight! Dead drunk!" she exclaimed, with a shaking
+voice.
+
+"Drunk!" cried Phoebe. "Lands sakes!--an'--" She looked about her with
+alarm. "Then what's happened to the machine?" she asked.
+
+"Whirlin', whirlin', same as ever! Cuttin' meridians 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
+_shake_ that man!" she broke out, letting her anger gain the upper hand.
+
+Then Phoebe recalled their situation and their expectations of the
+night before.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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!"
+
+She plumped herself into a chair and glared at the darkened window as
+though fascinated by those ever-returning flashes of sunlight.
+
+"Well--well--well!" murmured Phoebe.
+
+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.
+
+"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----"
+
+"Oh, drat the old Panchronicon!" cried Rebecca.
+
+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!"
+
+"No--no. Don't try to wake him up first!" cried Phoebe. "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!"
+
+Rebecca reflected a moment. Then:
+
+"I guess ye're right, Phoebe," 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."
+
+She left Phoebe 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
+Phoebe was quite as much in horror of drink and drinkers as Rebecca.
+
+She glanced at the date indicator as she passed it.
+
+"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. ----"
+
+Rebecca broke in with a snort.
+
+"Eighty-seven grandmothers!" she exclaimed. "Don't you get to frettin'
+'bout gettin' the measles or anything else, Phoebe--only sof'nin' of
+the brain--I guess we've both got that right bad!"
+
+"I don't know 'bout that," Phoebe 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."
+
+"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!"
+
+"Well, but all the meridians----"
+
+"Oh, bother yer meridians! I ain't seen one o' the things yet--nor you
+hevn't, either, Phoebe Wise!"
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+Their meal was eaten in silence. As they rose to clear the table,
+Phoebe said:
+
+"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'----"
+
+"Not with my money, or Joe Chandler's, either," Rebecca declared,
+firmly. "Not as Joe'd ask me to marry him now. He'd as soon think o'
+marryin' his grandmother."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"We'd freeze to death in a minute if we tried it," said Phoebe, as she
+entered the main room.
+
+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.
+
+"Merry Christmas!" she cried, with a little laugh. "It's Christmas-day,
+1886, Rebecca."
+
+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!
+
+"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."
+
+"'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.
+
+"Why, Rebecca Wise," said Phoebe, "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."
+
+Rebecca had just taken a hot plate from her pan, but she paused ere
+setting it down, alarmed at Phoebe's temerity.
+
+"Don't you dast to dream o' sech a thing, Phoebe!" she cried, with
+frightened earnestness.
+
+But Phoebe was confident, and crossed the threshold with a little
+laugh.
+
+"Why, Rebecca, what you scared of?" she said. "It's just as easy as
+that--see!"
+
+She pulled the starting lever.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe had pulled the lever the wrong way and the Panchronicon was
+swiftly reaching full speed.
+
+"Heavens and airth!" cried Rebecca.
+
+"Whatever in gracious--" began the dismayed Phoebe.
+
+She broke off in renewed terror as she found herself pushed by an
+irresistible force to the side of the room.
+
+"Here--here!" she heard from the kitchen. "What's this a-pullin'? Land
+o' promise, Phoebe, come quick! I've got a stroke!"
+
+"I can't come!" wailed Phoebe. "I'm jammed tight up against the wall.
+It's as though I was nailed to it."
+
+"Oh, why--why did ye touch that machinery!" cried Rebecca, and then said
+no more.
+
+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.
+
+As she found herself pushed outward by the immensely increased
+centrifugal force, Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Oh, dear--oh, dear!" she cried, closing her eyes. "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 497-1/2 pounds like
+that fat woman in the circus down to Keene."
+
+"So do I," Phoebe said, "only I'm so dizzy, too, I can hardly think."
+
+"Shet your eyes, like me," said Rebecca.
+
+"I would only I can't keep 'em off the North Pole there," said Phoebe,
+as she gazed fascinated through the north window opposite.
+
+"Why, what's the matter with the child!" Rebecca exclaimed, in alarm.
+"Air ye struck silly, Phoebe?"
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"No, but we'd fly off at a tangent into infinite space, Rebecca Wise,"
+Phoebe said, sharply.
+
+"Where's that?" asked her sister. "I'll engage 'tain't any wuss place
+than the North Pole."
+
+"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."
+
+"Who's ben there?"
+
+"Why, nobody--" Phoebe began.
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+The silence was broken by a meek voice from under the table.
+
+"Would you mind settin' off my chist?" said Droop.
+
+There was no answer and he opened his eyes. His bewilderment and
+surprise were intense when he discovered his situation.
+
+Shutting his eyes again, he remarked:
+
+"What you flashin' that bright light in my eyes so often for?"
+
+Phoebe gave vent to a gentle sniff of contempt.
+
+"My--my--my!" Droop continued, in meek amazement. "I s'pose I must hev
+taken two whole bottles. I never, never felt so heavy's this before!
+What's the old Pan lyin' on it's side fer?"
+
+"'Tain't on its side," snapped Phoebe. "The old thing's run away,
+Copernicus Droop, an' it's all your fault." There was a quiver in her
+voice.
+
+"Run away!" said Droop, opening his eyes again. "Where to?"
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"Oh, I see! It's the side weight holds me here. Where are you?"
+
+There was no reply, so he turned his head and eyes this way and that
+until at length he spied Phoebe on the settle, farther forward.
+
+"Am I under the table?" he said. "Where's Cousin Rebecca? Was she
+pressed out through the wall?"
+
+"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 Phoebe 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."
+
+"How can I go?" he cried, peevishly. "What the lands sakes did you go
+an' make the machine run away for? Couldn't ye leave the machinery
+alone?"
+
+"I didn't touch your old machine!" cried Rebecca. "Phoebe 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!"
+
+Droop rolled his eyes about eagerly for a glimpse of the date indicator.
+
+"What's the date, Cousin Phoebe?" he asked.
+
+"April 4, 1884--no, April 3d--2d--oh, dear, it's goin' back so fast I
+can't tell ye the truth about it!"
+
+"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 Phoebe?"
+
+"Second of April, 1874."
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+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 Phoebe address Droop.
+
+"Whatever will be the end o' this?" she said.
+
+"Why, we'll keep on whirlin' till the power gives out," he replied. "Ye
+hevn't much time to live now, hev ye?"
+
+With a throb of fear felt for the first time, Phoebe looked at the
+indicator.
+
+"It's May, 1874," she said.
+
+"Jest a month--thirty seconds," he said, sadly.
+
+"Copernicus Droop, do you mean it?" screamed Rebecca from the kitchen.
+
+"Unless the power gives out before then," he replied. "I don't suppose
+ye want to make yer will, do ye?"
+
+"Stuff!" said Phoebe, bravely, but her gaze was fixed anxiously on the
+indicator, now fast approaching the 2d of April.
+
+"Oh, dear! 'F I could only see ye, Phoebe!" cried Rebecca. "I know
+he's a mis'able deceivin' man, but if--if--oh, Phoebe, can't ye
+holler!"
+
+"It's April 8th--good-bye!" Phoebe said, faintly.
+
+"Phoebe--Phoebe!"
+
+"Hurray--hurray! It's March 31st, and here I am!"
+
+Phoebe tried to clap her hands, but the effort was in vain.
+
+"I allus said it was folderol," said Rebecca, sternly. "Oh, but I'd like
+to throw somethin' at that Copernicus Droop!"
+
+"Come to think of it," said Droop, "that future man must hev come back
+long, long before his birthday."
+
+"Why didn't ye say that sooner?" cried Rebecca.
+
+There was no further conversation until long afterward, when Rebecca
+suddenly remarked:
+
+"Aren't ye hungry, Phoebe?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Oh, dear!" she said, "I feel's if both my arms 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."
+
+"That's jest the thing, Phoebe. Go on--I'm ready."
+
+The theory seemed excellent, as Rebecca had fortunately been working
+with a very tough flaxen yarn; but so great was the apparent weight of
+Phoebe's arms that it was only after a long series of trials ending in
+failures that she finally succeeded.
+
+"I've got it!" cried Rebecca, triumphantly. "Now, then, I've got a slice
+of ham and two slices of bread----"
+
+"Don't send ham," said Phoebe. "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."
+
+"Thet's so," said Rebecca. "Well, here's an apple and two slices of
+bread."
+
+"Are you keepin' enough for yourself, Rebecca?"
+
+"Enough an' to spare," she replied. "Now, then--all ready! Pull 'em
+along!"
+
+Phoebe obeyed and soon had secured possession of the frugal meal which
+Rebecca had been able to convey to her.
+
+She offered a portion of her ration to Droop, but he declined it, saying
+he had no appetite. He had lapsed into a kind of waking reverie and
+scarce knew what was going on about him.
+
+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 Phoebe was much surprised to find, on looking at the
+clock, that it was half-past five.
+
+She glanced at the date indicator.
+
+"Why, Rebecca!" she cried. "Here 'tis November, 1804!"
+
+"My land!" cried Rebecca, forgetting her scepticism. "What do you s'pose
+they're doin' in New Hampshire now, Phoebe?"
+
+"It's 'bout election time, Rebecca. They're probably votin' for Adams or
+Madison or somebody like that."
+
+"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."
+
+"We'll be lucky if we stop there," said Phoebe. "I only hope to
+gracious we won't go back to Columbus or King Alfred."
+
+"Oh, I hope not!" said Rebecca, with a shudder. "Folks ud think we was
+crazy to be talkin' 'bout America then."
+
+Phoebe tried to toss her head.
+
+"If 'twas in Alfred's time," she said, "they couldn't understand _what_
+we was talkin' about."
+
+"Phoebe Wise! What do you mean?"
+
+"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 Croesus
+and----"
+
+"Oh, I'd love to see Croesus!" Rebecca broke in. "He's the richest man
+that ever lived!"
+
+"Yes--and perhaps we'll go back of then and see Abraham and Noah."
+
+"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."
+
+"He couldn't understand ye," said Phoebe. "All he spoke was Hebrew, ye
+know."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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!"
+
+There was a long pause. After many minutes, Rebecca asked one more
+question.
+
+"Do you s'pose the flood would come up as fur's this, Phoebe?"
+
+"I don't know, Rebecca. The Bible says the whole earth, you know."
+
+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.
+
+For thirty hours had they thus whirled ceaselessly around that circle,
+when Phoebe, 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.
+
+"My goodness, Rebecca!" she cried. "I believe we're goin' off at a
+tangent in a minute."
+
+"What? How?"
+
+"The ring on the pole is nigh worn out. I believe it'll break in a
+minute."
+
+"If it breaks we'll move straight an' get rid o' this side weight, won't
+we?"
+
+"Yes--but goodness only knows where we'll fly to."
+
+"Why--ain't Mr. Droop there? If the side weight goes, he can get into
+the engine-room an' let us down easy."
+
+"That's so!" cried Phoebe. "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."
+
+There was no reply. Nor could any calling or pleading elicit an answer.
+Droop had yielded to his thirst and was again sleeping the sleep of the
+unregenerate.
+
+"Oh, Rebecca, what-- Oh--oo--oo!"
+
+There was a loud scream from both the sisters as the iron ring, worn
+through by long rubbing, finally snapped asunder.
+
+The tremendous pressure was suddenly lifted, and the two women were
+free.
+
+With a single impulse, they flew toward the kitchen door and fell into
+each other's arms.
+
+The Panchronicon had gone off at a tangent at last!
+
+"Oh, Rebecca--Rebecca!" cried Phoebe, in tears. "I was afraid I'd
+never see you again!"
+
+Rebecca cried a little too, and patted her sister's shoulder in silence
+a moment.
+
+"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."
+
+"But, Rebecca," said Phoebe, 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."
+
+"Can't help it, Phoebe. 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."
+
+With this comforting reflection the two sisters brewed a pot of tea,
+and after partaking of the refreshing decoction, went to their
+respective beds.
+
+"I declare, I'm dog tired!" said Rebecca.
+
+"So'm I," said Phoebe.
+
+Those were their last words for many hours.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+NEW TIES AND OLD RELATIONS
+
+
+How long they slept after their extraordinary experience with the
+runaway air-ship neither Rebecca nor Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+"Do you suppose we've arrived in Infinite Space yet?" Rebecca asked.
+
+"It's still enough fer it," Phoebe 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."
+
+At that moment there was borne faintly to their ears the distant crowing
+of a cock.
+
+"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'?"
+
+Phoebe laughed and shook her head as she ran to the window. She drew
+aside the shawl hanging before the glass and peered out.
+
+The first gleams of dawn were dispelling the night, and against a dark
+gray sky she saw the branches of thickly crowding trees.
+
+Dropping the shawl, she turned eagerly to her sister.
+
+"Rebecca Wise!" she exclaimed. "As sure as you're alive, we're back safe
+on the ground again. We're in the woods."
+
+"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!"
+
+She pushed open her door and, followed by Phoebe, 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.
+
+"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,
+Phoebe. 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."
+
+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.
+
+As they emerged from the prison that had so long confined them, a cool
+morning zephyr swept their faces, bringing with it once more the
+well-known voice of distant chanticleer.
+
+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.
+
+"Goodness!" Rebecca whispered. "This ain't Peltonville, Phoebe. 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."
+
+They advanced stealthily toward the newly discovered building, in which
+not a single light was to be seen.
+
+"In good sooth," Phoebe exclaimed, putting one hand on her sister's
+arm, "it hath an air of witchcraft! Dost not feel cold chills in thee,
+Rebecca?"
+
+Rebecca stopped short, stiff with amazement.
+
+"What's come over ye?" she asked, trying to peer into her sister's face.
+"Whatever makes ye talk like that, child?"
+
+Phoebe laughed nervously and, taking her sister's arm, pressed close
+up to her.
+
+"I don't know, dear. Did I speak funny?" she asked.
+
+"Why you know you did. What's the use o' tryin' to scare a body with
+gibberish? This place is creepy 'nough now."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"It's deserted," whispered Rebecca.
+
+"Perhaps it's haunted," Phoebe replied.
+
+"Well, we needn't go in, I guess," said Rebecca, turning from the door
+and starting briskly away. "Come on this way, Phoebe--look out fer the
+trees--lands! Did y'ever see so many?"
+
+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 Phoebe followed her, rather for
+company's sake than with any curiosity to see what was beyond.
+
+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.
+
+As Phoebe came to her sister's side, she clutched her arm excitedly:
+
+"Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "'Tis Newington, as true as I live! Newington
+and Blackman Street!"
+
+Suddenly she sat down in the grass and hid her face in her hands.
+
+"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----"
+
+Phoebe interrupted her by leaping to her feet and starting back to the
+opening in the wall.
+
+"Come back, Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Come back quick!"
+
+Rebecca followed her sister in some alarm. Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+Not until they were safely seated in Rebecca's room did Phoebe speak
+again.
+
+"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!"
+
+"What is it? What ails ye?" said Rebecca, anxiously.
+
+"Why, I don't believe I'm myself, Rebecca. I've been here before. I know
+that village out there, 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."
+
+"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."
+
+She bustled about pretending to set things to rights, but her heart was
+heavy with apprehension. She thought that Phoebe was in the first
+stages of delirium.
+
+"Not myself! No," said Phoebe. "No--the fact is, I'm somebody else!"
+
+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. Phoebe was delirious and they must seek a doctor--at
+once.
+
+"Get your things on, Phoebe," 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."
+
+Phoebe 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, Phoebe carrying the precious carved box and Rebecca her satchel
+and umbrella.
+
+"What you bringin' that everlastin' packet o' letters for?" Rebecca
+asked, as they reached the opening in the wall.
+
+"I want to have it out in the light," Phoebe replied. "I want to see
+something."
+
+Outside of the brick wall she paused and opened the box. It was empty.
+
+"I thought so!" she said.
+
+"Why, ye've brought the box 'thout the letters, Phoebe," said Rebecca.
+"You're not agoin' back for them, air ye?"
+
+"No," Phoebe replied, "'twouldn't do any good. Rebecca. They aren't
+there."
+
+She dropped the box in the grass and looked wistfully about her.
+
+"Not there!" said Rebecca, nonplussed. "Why, who'd take 'em?"
+
+"Nobody. They haven't been written yet."
+
+"Not--not--" Rebecca gasped for a moment and then hurried toward the
+road. "Come on!" she cried.
+
+Surely, she thought--surely they must find a doctor without delay.
+
+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.
+
+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 were
+travelling southward were the younger ones, and often whole families
+together. Among these the women predominated.
+
+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.
+
+"Must be a county fair near here!" exclaimed Rebecca. "But will ye
+listen to the gibberish an' see their clothes!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe gazed from her sister's side with the keenest delight, saying
+nothing, but turning her eyes hither and thither as though afraid of
+losing the least detail of the scene.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"Thou dost him wrong, Cicely. An he keep not the tryst, 'twill only
+be----"
+
+"'Twill only be thy first misprision, eh?"
+
+"Marry, then----"
+
+Here their words were lost as they continued to move farther away, still
+disputing together.
+
+"Well!" exclaimed Rebecca, turning to Phoebe. "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, Phoebe?"
+
+Phoebe shook her head and was about to reply when there was a loud
+clamour of many tongues from the road near by.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+In a trice Rebecca found herself clinging to Phoebe with whom she was
+borne onward helpless by the mad throng.
+
+The new-comers were clad in all sorts of fantastic garbs, and many of
+them were masked. Phoebe 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.
+
+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 Phoebe,
+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 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.
+
+It was incredible--monstrous--impossible! Phoebe, the sweet, modest,
+gentle, prudish Phoebe, singing a questionable song in a whirl of
+roystering Jerusalemites!
+
+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 Phoebe, who held her tightly
+by the right.
+
+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.
+
+Once Rebecca stumbled and a great gawky fellow caught her around the
+waist to prevent her falling.
+
+"Lips pay forfeit for tripping feet, lass!" he cried, and kissed her
+with a sounding smack.
+
+Furious and blushing, she swung her hand-bag in a circle and brought it
+down upon the ravisher's head.
+
+"Take that, you everlastin' rascal, you!" she gasped.
+
+The bumpkin dodged with a laugh and disappeared in the crowd and dust,
+cuffing, pushing, scuffling, hugging, and kissing quite heedless of
+small rebuffs.
+
+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 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.
+
+Rebecca stood, angry and breathless, trying to flick the dust off her
+bag with her handkerchief, while Phoebe, 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.
+
+"I declare--I declare to goodness!" panted Rebecca, "ef anybody'd told
+me ez you, Phoebe Wise, would take on so--so like--like a--a----"
+
+"Like any Zanny's light-o-love," Phoebe 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!"
+
+Rebecca clutched her sister by the arm and shook her.
+
+"Phoebe Wise--Phoebe Wise!" she cried, looking anxiously into her
+face, "wake up now--wake up! What in the universal airth----"
+
+A loud shout cut her short, and the two sisters turned amazed.
+
+"The bull! The bull!"
+
+There was an opening in the crowd as four men 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Come 'long--come 'long, Phoebe!" 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 _is_ Bethlehem or Babylon!"
+
+Hot with indignation, the still protesting woman reached the outskirts
+of the throng and looked about 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.
+
+"Hey, mister!" cried Rebecca, addressing this worthy. "Can you tell me
+where I can find one o' the selectmen?"
+
+The stranger paused in his walk and glanced first at Rebecca and then,
+with evidently increased interest, at Phoebe.
+
+"Selectmen?" he asked. "Who hath selected them, dame?"
+
+He gazed quizzically at the excited woman.
+
+"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!"
+
+"In good sooth, dame," he replied, "'tis not every day I hear such
+English as yours."
+
+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.
+
+"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, his honor is even now holding court near London Bridge."
+
+"London Bridge!" gasped Rebecca. "Why, London ain't a Bible country, is
+it?"
+
+Deigning no notice to a query which he did not understand, the young
+fellow set off to northward, followed closely by the two women.
+
+"Keep close to him, Phoebe," said Rebecca, warningly. "Ef we should
+lose the man in all this rabble o' folks we would not find him in a
+hurry."
+
+"Thou seest, sweet sister," Phoebe 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."
+
+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
+Phoebe held.
+
+She leaped forward eagerly and touched their guide's shoulder.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Call me plain Jock Dean, mistress," he said. "And now tell me further,
+wilt have a doctor of laws, 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."
+
+Rebecca would have returned a sharp reply to this banter, but she was
+very anxious to find a physician for Phoebe, and so thought it best to
+take a coaxing course.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"Why bait the man with silly questions, Rebecca," Phoebe 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?"
+
+"Ay, mistress," he replied, with a grin. "It's there you may see the
+selectman your serving-maid inquired for."
+
+Rebecca gasped and clinched her hands fiercely on her bag and umbrella.
+
+"Serving-maid!" she cried.
+
+"Ahoy--whoop--room! Yi--ki yi!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 the
+bystanders were discussing with relish and good-humor.
+
+"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!"
+
+She turned, grasping Phoebe'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, Phoebe did not
+seem inclined to move.
+
+"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."
+
+"Mercy me, Phoebe! 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.
+
+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.
+
+There were cries of "Hear--hear!" "Look at Baiting Will!" "Ho--ho--bully
+rook!" "Sh-sh-h!"
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Ho--ho! All hail!"
+
+"Hurrah--crown him, crown him!"
+
+"The King of the May forever!"
+
+By dint of bawling for silence till he was red in the face, the speaker
+at length made himself heard again.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+But again Baiting Will waved his arms for a chance to speak.
+
+"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!"
+
+He leaned his ear close to the grinning head, pretending to listen a
+moment. Then, standing forward, he cried:
+
+"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
+unruffed neck--her wi' the black wand and outland scrip."
+
+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!"
+
+Two or three stout fellows from just beneath the pillory elbowed their
+way to her side and grasped her arms.
+
+She struggled and shrieked in affright.
+
+Phoebe with indignant face seized the arm of the man nearest her and
+pulled lustily to free her sister.
+
+"Stand aside, you knaves!" she cried, hotly. "Know your betters and keep
+your greasy hands for the sluttish queans of Southwark streets!"
+
+The lads only grinned and tightened their hold. Rebecca was struggling
+fiercely and in silence, save for an occasional shriek of fear.
+
+Phoebe raised her voice.
+
+"Good people, will ye see a lady tousled by knavish street brawlers!
+What ho--a rescue--a Burton--a Burton--a rescue--ho!"
+
+Her voice rose high above the coarse laughter and chatter of the crowd.
+
+"What's this? Who calls?"
+
+The crowd parted to right and left with screams and imprecations, and on
+a sudden two horsemen reined up their steeds beside the sisters.
+
+"Back, ye knaves! Unhand the lady!" cried the younger of the two,
+striking out with his whip at the heads of Rebecca's captors.
+
+Putting up their hands to ward off these blows, the fellows hastily
+retreated a few steps, leaving Rebecca and Phoebe standing alone.
+
+"What's here!" cried the young man. "God warn us, an it be not fair
+Mistress Burton herself!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+He wore a long sword with a plain scabbard and hilt, and on his hands
+were black gloves, well scented.
+
+Phoebe's face wore a smile of pleased recognition, and she stretched
+forth her right hand as the cavalier approached.
+
+"You come in good time, Sir Guy!" she said.
+
+"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 the
+labyrinthine corridors of his auricular sensories."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"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."
+
+She stepped forward and put her hand gently on her sister's.
+
+Rebecca looked with troubled eyes into Phoebe's face and said,
+timidly:
+
+"Won't ye go to a doctor's with me, Phoebe?"
+
+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.
+
+"You were best mount and away with the ladies, Sir Guy," he said. "Yon
+scurvy loons are in poor humor for dalliance."
+
+With a graceful gesture, Sir Guy invited Phoebe 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.
+
+Rebecca started forward, terror-stricken.
+
+"Phoebe--Phoebe!" she cried. "Ye wouldn't leave me here!"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+The relief of deliverance from the rude mob behind her gave Rebecca
+courage, and she gazed about with some interest.
+
+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.
+
+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 tower, surmounted by numberless poles bearing formless
+round masses at their ends.
+
+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:
+
+"Do you mind tellin' me, mister, what's thet fruit they're a-dryin' up
+on thet meetin'-house?"
+
+The horseman glanced upward for a moment and then replied, with
+something of wonder in his voice:
+
+"Why, those are men's heads, dame. Know you not London Bridge and the
+traitors' poles yet?"
+
+"Oh, good land!" said the horrified woman, and shut her mouth tightly.
+Evidently England was not the sort of country she had pictured it.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+They were on New Fish Street, and their nostrils gave them witness of
+its name at once. Farther up the slight ascent before them they met
+other and far worse smells, and Rebecca was disgusted.
+
+"Where are we goin'?" she asked.
+
+"Why, to your mistress' residence, of course."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Good land o' Goshen!" Rebecca exclaimed at last. "Why in goodness' name
+does all the folks throw sech messes out in the street?"
+
+"Why, where would you have them throw them, dame?" asked her companion,
+in surprise. "Are ye outlandish bred that ye put me such questions?"
+
+"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."
+
+She tossed her head with the air of one who has said something
+conclusive.
+
+The man held his peace for a moment, dumfounded. Then he laughed
+heartily, with head thrown back.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+Sir Guy and the two women dismounted, and, while the groom held the
+horses, the others approached the building before which they had
+paused.
+
+Rebecca was about to address Phoebe, 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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Now, good mine aunt," Phoebe broke in, with a smile and a curtsey,
+"no tryst have I kept, in sooth. Sir Guy is my witness that he found me
+quite by chance."
+
+"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!"
+
+He bowed as he gave back one step and kissed his hand toward Phoebe.
+
+"All one--all one," said Dame Goldsmith, laughing as she held out her
+hand to Phoebe. "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."
+
+Phoebe held forth her hand to the knight, who kissed it with a
+flourish, hat in hand.
+
+"Shall I hear from thee soon?" she said, in an undertone.
+
+"Forthwith, most fairly beautiful--most gracious rare!" he replied.
+
+Then, leaping on his horse, he dashed down the street at a mad gallop,
+followed closely by his groom.
+
+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.
+
+"What, Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Hast breakfasted, woman--what?"
+
+"Ay, aunt," Phoebe 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."
+
+Taking the dame's extended hand, she suffered herself to be led within,
+followed by Rebecca, too amazed to speak.
+
+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.
+
+A wide staircase led to the right, and to this Phoebe turned at once
+as though she had always lived there.
+
+"Hast heard from my father yet?" she asked, pausing upon the first
+stair and addressing Dame Goldsmith.
+
+"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."
+
+She swept out of the room with a toss of the head, and Phoebe smiled
+as she turned to climb the stairs. Immediately she turned again and held
+out one hand to Rebecca.
+
+"Come along, Rebecca. Let's run 'long up," she said, relapsing into her
+old manner.
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Why, there's where we slept last night, Rebecca," said Phoebe,
+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."
+
+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.
+
+"I don't see how in gracious you know so much about it," she remarked,
+querulously. "'Pon my word, you acted with that young jackanapes an'
+that fat old lady downstairs jest's ef you'd allus known em."
+
+"Well, so I have," Phoebe replied, smiling. "I knew them all nearly
+three hundred years before you were born, Rebecca Wise."
+
+Rebecca dropped into a chair and looked helplessly at her sister with
+her arms hanging at her sides.
+
+"Phoebe Wise--" she began.
+
+"No, not now!" Phoebe 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!"
+
+The younger woman threw her arms about the other's neck and kissed her
+repeatedly.
+
+Rebecca sat mute and impassive, making no return.
+
+"Seems as though I ought to wake up soon now," she muttered, weakly.
+
+"Come, Rebecca," Phoebe 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!"
+
+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 jacket, and striped under-vest with a promptitude and
+readiness that showed perfect familiarity with her surroundings.
+
+"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!"
+
+When Phoebe 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.
+
+On one point, however, Rebecca could not refrain from expostulating.
+
+"Look a-here, Phoebe," 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!"
+
+"Nonsense!" cried Phoebe, 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?"
+
+Rebecca put her hands on her hips and looked into her sister's face with
+a stern determination.
+
+"Ef you think I'm agoin' to put on play-actor clothes an' go round
+lookin' indecent, Phoebe Wise, why, you're mistaken--'cause I
+ain't--so there!"
+
+"Nay, nurse!" Phoebe exclaimed, earnestly. "'Tis the costume thou art
+wearing now that is mummer's weeds. Come, sweet--come! They'll not
+yield thee admittance below else."
+
+She concluded with a warning inflection, and shook her finger
+affectionately at her sister.
+
+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:
+
+"They can do jest whatever they please downstairs, Phoebe. 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."
+
+"Nay--but----"
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe bit her lips and then, after a moment's hesitation, turned to
+the door.
+
+"Well, well! E'en have it thy way!" she said.
+
+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.
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe stood upon the lowest stair in smiling silence and with folded
+hands as he caught her eye.
+
+"Ha, thou jade!" cried Master Goldsmith, for he it was. "Wilt give me
+the slip of a May-day morn!"
+
+He set down his cup with a loud bang and strode over to the staircase,
+shaking his finger playfully at his niece.
+
+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, Phoebe was folded in his arms and soundly kissed on both
+cheeks.
+
+"There, lass!" he chuckled, as he stepped back, rubbing his hands. "I
+told thy aunt I'd make thee do penance for thy folly."
+
+Phoebe wiped her cheeks with her handkerchief and tipped her head
+impudently at the cheerful ravisher.
+
+"Now, God mend your manners, uncle!" she exclaimed. "What! Bedew my
+cheeks with the froth of good ale on your beard while my throat lacks
+the good body o't! Why, I'm burned up wi' thirst!"
+
+"Good lack!" cried the goldsmith, turning briskly to the table. "Had ye
+no drink when ye first returned, then?"
+
+He poured a smaller cupful of foaming ale from the great silver jug and
+brought it to Phoebe.
+
+Rebecca clutched the stair-rail for support, and, with eyes ready to
+start from her head, she leaned forward, incredulous, as Phoebe took
+the cup from the merchant's hand.
+
+Then she could keep silence no longer.
+
+"Phoebe Wise!" she screamed, "be you goin' to drink ALE!"
+
+No words can do justice to the awful emphasis which she laid upon that
+last dread word.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Here's thy good health, nurse--and to our better acquaintance," she
+laughed.
+
+Rebecca uttered one short scream and fled up to their bed-room. She had
+seen the impossible. Her sister Phoebe with her face buried in a mug
+of ale!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+HOW FRANCIS BACON CHEATED THE BAILIFFS
+
+
+It was at about this time that Copernicus Droop 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.
+
+"Machinery's stopped, so we're on dry land," he said. Then, starting up
+on one elbow, he listened intently.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Well, we're in the country, anyhow!" he muttered.
+
+He turned and consulted the date indicator in the ceiling.
+
+"May 1, 1598," he said. "Great Jonah! but we hev whirled back fer
+keeps! I s'pose we jest whirled till she broke loose."
+
+He gazed about him and observed that the two state-room doors were open.
+He walked over and looked in.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"Wal, we'll be private an' cosy here till the Panchronicon hez time to
+store up more force," he said out loud.
+
+Strolling forward, he skirted the high wall, and ere long discovered the
+very opening through which the sisters had passed at sunrise.
+
+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.
+
+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?
+
+Suddenly a distant cry came to his ears.
+
+"Hi--Lizzie--Lizzie, wench! Come, drive the pig out o' the cabbages!"
+
+He stopped short and slapped his thigh.
+
+"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!"
+
+He looked about him again and selected a neighboring house which he
+thought promised information.
+
+He went to the front door and knocked. There was no reply, despite many
+attempts to arouse the inmates.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"Looks like a witch in the story-books," he thought, but his spoken
+comment was more polite.
+
+"Good-mornin', ma'am," he said. "Would you be so kind as to tell me the
+name of this town?"
+
+"This be Newington," she replied, in a high, cracked voice.
+
+"Newington," he replied, with a nod and a smile intended to express
+complete enlightenment. "Ah, yes--Newington. Quite a town!"
+
+"Is that all you'd be askin', young man?" said the old woman, a little
+suspiciously, eying his strange garb.
+
+"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.
+
+"Lunnun," said the woman. "Oh, it'll be a matter of a mile or better!"
+
+Droop was startled, but highly pleased. Here was luck indeed.
+
+"Thank you, ma'am," he said. "Good-mornin'," and with a cheerful nod, he
+made off.
+
+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.
+
+"By hockey!" he exclaimed, in irrepressible delight, "I'll make their
+gol darned eyes pop out!"
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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 Phoebe had both completely
+disappeared.
+
+It was long before he saw his way out of this difficulty, but by dint of
+persistent pondering he finally lit upon a plan.
+
+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 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.
+
+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:
+
+
+  ----------------------------------------------------------------
+  |                                                              |
+  |                   AMERICAN PHOTOGRAPHER                      |
+  |                                                              |
+  |                 THE ONLY ONE IN EXISTENCE                    |
+  |                                                              |
+  |           _Step up and have your picture taken_              |
+  |                                                              |
+  ----------------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+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.
+
+It was difficult for him to fix a price at first, not 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 Phoebe'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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Great Jonah!" he exclaimed, closing his book and cocking his head to
+listen. "Now, who--wonder ef it's Cousin Rebecca or Phoebe!"
+
+The knock was repeated.
+
+"Why, 'f course 'tis!" he said. "Couldn't be anybody else. Funny they
+never come back sooner!"
+
+He laid his book upon the table and started down the stairs just as the
+knocking was heard for the third time.
+
+"Comin'--comin'!" he cried. "Save the pieces!"
+
+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.
+
+The new-comer sprang into the little hallway and hastily closed the door
+behind him.
+
+"Close in the light, friend," he said.
+
+Then, glancing about him, he ascended the stairs and entered the main
+room above.
+
+Droop followed him closely, rubbing his hand through his hair in
+perplexity. This intrusion threatened to spoil his plans. It would
+never do to have the neighbors swarming around the Panchronicon.
+
+The stranger threw off his cloak on entering the upper room and turned
+to face his host.
+
+"I owe you sincere acknowledgment of thanks, good sir," he said,
+gravely.
+
+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.
+
+"Wal, I dunno," Droop retorted. "Marry, an I hed known as thou wast not
+an acquaintance----"
+
+"You would not have given me admittance?"
+
+The calm, dark eyes gazed with disconcerting steadiness into Droop's
+face.
+
+"Oh--well--I ain't sayin'----"
+
+"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."
+
+"What--doth it raineth--eh?"
+
+"Oh, no!"
+
+"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!"
+
+"Are you, then, the new limner who makes pictures by aid of the box and
+glass?"
+
+"Yea--that's what I am," said Droop.
+
+"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."
+
+Droop seated himself and directed an interrogative gaze at his visitor.
+
+"My name's Droop--Copernicus Droop," he said. "An' you----"
+
+"My name is Francis Bacon, Master Droop--your servitor," he bowed
+slightly.
+
+Droop started up stiff and straight in his chair.
+
+"Francis Bacon!" he exclaimed. "What! Not the one as wrote Shakespeare?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Nay--verily--in good sooth--marry, no!" stuttered Droop. "What they
+mean is thet 'twas you wrote the things Shakespeare put his name
+to--you did, didn't you?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes, indeed--yea--la!" exclaimed Droop, now sadly confused.
+
+"Might I ask the name of some work imputed to me, and which this--this
+Shake--eh----"
+
+"Shakespeare."
+
+"Ay, this Shakespeare hath impudently claimed for his own credit and
+reputation?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"Why, in very truth--marry, it's in that book. It was printed in
+Chicago."
+
+Bacon glanced contemptuously at the volume without deigning to open it.
+
+"And prithee, Master Droop, where may Chicago be?"
+
+"Why it _was_ in--no! I mean it will be--oh, darn it all! Chicago's in
+Illinois."
+
+"Illinois--yes--and Illinois?" Bacon's dark eyes were turned in grave
+question upon his companion.
+
+"Why, that's in America, ye know."
+
+"Oh!" said Bacon. Then, with a sigh of great relief: "Ah!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Yea, verily--in sooth--or--or thereabouts," said Droop, not knowing
+what to say.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Shakespeare."
+
+"Ay."
+
+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 the Earl of Essex might be the capitalist
+for whom he was in search.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Bacon was startled and examined himself hurriedly.
+
+"What!" he exclaimed, "what is sticking out, friend?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Yes--that's what I meant," said Droop, anxious to come to the point.
+"But your high-water mark is science--philosophy--all that. Now, you're
+somethin' of a capitalist, too, I surmise."
+
+He paused expectant.
+
+"A what, friend?"
+
+"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?"
+
+Bacon's face grew long at these words, and he seated himself in evident
+melancholy.
+
+"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."
+
+"A debt!" said Droop, his heart sinking.
+
+"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."
+
+"Great Jonah!" said Droop, helplessly. "But didn't you say you had
+friends?"
+
+"None better, Master Droop. My uncle is Lord Burleigh--Lord High
+Treasurer to her Gracious Majesty. My patron is the Earl of Essex----"
+
+"Why don't they give ye a lift?"
+
+Bacon's face grew graver.
+
+"Essex is away," he said. "On his return my necessities will be speedily
+relieved. As for mine uncle, 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."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"A long tale of politics, friend. A speech made by me in Parliament in
+opposing monopolies."
+
+"Oh!" said Droop, dismally. "You're down on monopolies, air ye?"
+
+Bacon turned a wary eye upon his companion.
+
+"Why ask you this?" he said.
+
+"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."
+
+"Ah!" Bacon exclaimed, with awakening interest. "You seek my influence
+in furtherance of these designs. Do I apprehend you?"
+
+"That's jest it," said Droop.
+
+"And what would be the--ahem--the recognition which----"
+
+"Why, you'd git a quarter interest in the hull business," said Droop,
+hopefully. "That is, provided you've got the inflooence, ye know."
+
+"Too slight--too slight for Francis Bacon, Master Droop."
+
+Copernicus thought rapidly for a minute or two. Then he pretended
+indifference.
+
+"Oh, very good!" he said. "I'll take up with Sir Thomas
+Thingumbob--What's-'is-name."
+
+Bacon pretended to accept the decision and changed the subject.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Why--what can I do?"
+
+"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?"
+
+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. 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.
+
+"Jest turn round, will ye?" he said, with a whirling movement of the
+hand, "an' let me see how it looks in the back?"
+
+Biting his lips, the furious barrister turned about and walked away.
+
+"Needs must where the devil drives," he muttered.
+
+Droop shook his head dismally.
+
+"Marry, come up!" he exclaimed. "I guess I can't make the bargain,
+friend Bacon."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"What about the horse and the saddle and bridle?"
+
+"These are borrowed from a friend, Master Droop," said Bacon. "These
+rascals know this, else had they seized them in execution."
+
+"Ah, but won't they seize your clothes, Brother Bacon?" said Droop,
+slyly.
+
+"Nay--that were unlawful. A man's attire is free from process of
+execution."
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"But, good sir----"
+
+"Take it or leave it, friend."
+
+"Well," said Bacon, angrily, after a few moments' hesitation, "have your
+will. Give me ink, pen, and paper."
+
+These being produced, the barrister curiously examined the wooden
+penholder and steel pen.
+
+"Why, Master Droop," he said, "from what unknown bird have you plucked
+forth this feather?"
+
+"Feather!" Droop exclaimed. "What feather?"
+
+"Why this?" Bacon held up the pen and holder.
+
+"That ain't a feather. It's a pen-holder an' a steel pen, man. Say!" he
+exclaimed, leaning forward suddenly. "Ye hain't ben drinkin', hev ye?"
+
+To this Bacon only replied by a dignified stare and turned in silence to
+the table.
+
+"Which you agoin' to write first," said Droop, considerately dropping
+the question he had raised.
+
+"The bill of sale."
+
+"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."
+
+Bacon made no reply, but dipped his pen and set to work. In due time the
+two documents were indited and carefully signed.
+
+"This letter is addressed to my uncle, Lord Burleigh," said Bacon. "He
+is at the Palace at Greenwich, with the Queen."
+
+"Shall I hev to take it to him myself?"
+
+"Assuredly."
+
+"Might hev trouble findin' him, I should think," said Droop.
+
+"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."
+
+"What's his name?"
+
+"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 seek him at the Boar's Head Tavern in Eastcheap."
+
+"Sir Percevall Hart--Boar's Head--Eastcheap. That's in London City, I
+s'pose."
+
+"Yes--yes," said Bacon, impatiently. "Any watchman or passer-by will
+direct you. Now, sir, 'tis for you to fulfil your promise."
+
+"All right," said Droop. "It's my innin's--so here goes."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"Well--well--a truce to trivial complaints," said 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."
+
+Droop donned the hat and cloak and gazed at himself sorrowfully in the
+glass.
+
+"Darned ef I don't look like a cross 'tween a Filipino and a crazy
+cowboy!" he muttered.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+"That is my steed," Bacon whispered. "You must mount with instant speed
+and away with all haste to the south, Master Droop."
+
+"D'ye think I won't split these darned pants and tight socks?" said
+Droop.
+
+"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."
+
+"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.
+
+With a snort of surprise, the horse plunged forward 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.
+
+"Good!" he exclaimed. "The lure hath taken!"
+
+Then leaning over he rubbed his shins ruefully.
+
+"How the night wind doth ascend within this barbarous hose!" he
+grumbled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+PHOEBE AT THE PEACOCK INN
+
+
+While Copernicus Droop was acquiring fame and fortune as a photographer,
+Rebecca and Phoebe were leading a quiet life in the city.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe, who remembered Rebecca both as her 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.
+
+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 Phoebe was rereading a letter for the
+twentieth time, smiling now and then as she read.
+
+"'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."
+
+"No, 'twas the flesher's lad brought it," said Phoebe.
+
+Rebecca grunted crossly.
+
+"I wish the land sake ye'd say 'butcher' when ye mean butcher,
+Phoebe," she said.
+
+"Well, the butcher's boy, then, Miss Particular!" said Phoebe,
+saucily.
+
+Rebecca's face brightened.
+
+"My! It does sound good to hear ye talk good Yankee talk, Phoebe," she
+said. "Ye hevn't dropped yer play-actin' lingo fer days and days."
+
+"Oh, 'tis over hard to remember, sis!" said Phoebe, carelessly. "But
+tell me, would it be unmaidenly, think you, were I to grant Sir Guy a
+private meeting--without the house?"
+
+"Which means would I think ye was wrong to spark with that high-falutin
+man out o' doors, eh?"
+
+"Yes--say it so an thou wilt," said Phoebe, shyly.
+
+"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.
+
+"Aunt Martha hath given me free permission to see Sir Guy when I will,"
+Phoebe continued. "But she hath been full circumspect, and ever
+keepeth within ear-shot."
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"What's the letter 'bout, anyway?" she said. "Is it from the guy?"
+
+"You mean Sir Guy," said Phoebe, in injured tones.
+
+"Oh, well, sir or ma'am! Did he write it?"
+
+"Why, truth to tell," said Phoebe, slipping the note into her bosom,
+"'Tis but one of the letters I read to thee from yon carved box,
+Rebecca."
+
+"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?"
+
+"Lord warrant us, sis, no! 'Twas writ this very day. What o'clock is
+it?"
+
+She ran to the window and looked down the street toward the clock on the
+Royal Exchange.
+
+"Three i' the afternoon," she muttered. "The time is short. Shall I?
+Shall I not?"
+
+"Talkin' o' letters," said Rebecca, suddenly, "I wish'd you take one
+down to the Post-Office fer me, Phoebe." 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."
+
+"The Post-Office--" Phoebe began, laughingly. Then she checked
+herself. Why undeceive her sister? Here was the excuse she had been
+seeking.
+
+"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, Phoebe?" she
+concluded, with plaintive anxiety in her voice.
+
+"I'll take the letter right along," said Phoebe, with sudden
+determination.
+
+But Rebecca would not at once relax her hold on the envelope.
+
+"That's so, ain't it, dearie?" she insisted. "Won't we make fer home as
+soon's we can?"
+
+"Sis," said Phoebe, gravely, "an I be not deeply in error, thou art
+right. Now give me the letter."
+
+Rebecca relinquished the paper with a sigh of relief, then looked up in
+surprise at Phoebe, who was laughing aloud.
+
+"Why, here's a five-cent stamp, as I live!" she cried. "Where did it
+come from?"
+
+"I hed it in my satchel," said Rebecca. "Ain't that the right postage?"
+
+"Yes--yes," said Phoebe, still laughing. "And now for the
+Post-Office!"
+
+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.
+
+"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, Phoebe."
+
+With a light foot and a lighter heart for all its beating, Phoebe ran
+down the street unperceived from the house.
+
+"Bishopsgate!" she sang under her breath. "The missive named
+Bishopsgate. He'll meet me within the grove outside the city wall."
+
+Her feet seemed to know the way, which was not over long, and she
+arrived without mishap at the gate.
+
+Here she was amazed to see two elderly men, evidently 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.
+
+The four were so preoccupied with this ceremony that she slipped past
+them without attracting the disagreeable attention she might otherwise
+have received.
+
+As she passed, the beruffled gentlemen were laughing, and she heard one
+of them say:
+
+"God buy you, friends, our ruffs and bilbos have had careful
+measurement, I warrant you."
+
+"Right careful, in sooth," said one of those with the yardsticks. "They
+come within a hair's breadth of her Majesty's prohibition."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+His hair fell in curls on either side from beneath 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.
+
+"God ild us!" Phoebe exclaimed in low tones. "What foppery have we
+here!"
+
+Then, slipping behind a tree, she clapped her hands.
+
+Guy turned his head and gazed about in wonder, for no one was visible.
+Phoebe 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.
+
+The young knight leaped forward, and, dropping on one knee, carried her
+hand rapturously to his lips.
+
+"Now sink the orbed sun!" he exclaimed. "For behold a fairer cometh,
+whose love-darting eyes do slay the night, rendering bright day
+eternate!"
+
+Smiling roguishly down into his face, Phoebe shook her head and
+replied:
+
+"You are full of pretty phrases. Have you not been acquainted with
+goldsmiths' wives, and conned them out of rings?"
+
+For an instant the young man was disconcerted. Then rising, he said:
+
+"Nay, from the rings regardant of thine eyes I learned my speech. What
+are golden rings to these?"
+
+"Why, how much better is thy speech when it ringeth true," said
+Phoebe. "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!"
+
+"Loved thee, oh, divine enchantress--too cruel-lovely captress of my
+dole-breathing heart!"
+
+"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!"
+
+"In any way--or sad or gay!"
+
+"Then prithee, good knight, stand on thy head by yonder tree."
+
+The cavalier stepped back and gazed into his lady's face as though he
+thought her mad.
+
+"Stand--on--my--head!" he exclaimed, slowly.
+
+Phoebe laughed merrily and clapped her hands.
+
+"Good my persuasion!" she rippled. "See how 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-a-pie!" and she
+laughed the harder as she saw her lover's face grow longer and longer.
+
+"Why, mistress," he began, soberly, "these quips and jests ill become a
+lover's tryst, methinks----"
+
+"As ill as paint and scent and ear-rings--as foppish attire and
+fantastical phrases do become an honest lover," said Phoebe,
+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----"
+
+"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----"
+
+Phoebe cut him short, putting her hand on his mouth.
+
+Then she leaned her shoulder against a tree, and looking up saucily into
+his face:
+
+"Now, don't get mad!" she said.
+
+"Mad--mad!" said Sir Guy, with a puzzled look. "An this be madness,
+mistress, then is her Majesty's whole court a madhouse."
+
+"Well, young man," Phoebe 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."
+
+The knight moved back a step, with an injured expression on his face.
+
+"Nay, then," he said, "an thou mock me with uncouth phrases, Mary, I'd
+best be going."
+
+"Perhaps you'd better, Guy."
+
+With a reproachful glance, but holding his head proudly, the young man
+mounted his horse.
+
+"He hath a noble air on horseback," Phoebe said to herself, and she
+smiled.
+
+The young man saw the smile and took courage.
+
+He urged his horse forward to her side.
+
+"Mary!" he exclaimed, tenderly.
+
+"Fare thee well!" she replied, coolly, and turned her back.
+
+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 Phoebe found herself alone in the grove.
+
+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
+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.
+
+"After all, 'twill teach the silly lad better manners!" she said.
+
+Scarcely had she reached the highway again when she heard a man's voice
+calling in hearty tones.
+
+"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."
+
+She looked up and saw a stout, middle-aged countryman on horseback,
+holding a folded paper in his hand.
+
+"Oh, 'tis thou, Gregory!" she said, coolly. "Mend thy manners, man, and
+keep thy place."
+
+The man grinned.
+
+"For my place, Mistress Mary," he said, "I doubt you know not where your
+place be."
+
+She looked up with a frown of angry surprise.
+
+"Up here behind me on young Bess," he grinned. "See, here's your
+father's letter, mistress."
+
+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.
+
+"Good Bess--good old mare!" she said, gently, gazing pensively at the
+letter.
+
+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? However,
+partly that he might not be set to asking questions, partly in
+curiosity, she unfolded the paper.
+
+
+"DEAR POLL"--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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+
+"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?"
+
+"All one to me, mistress," said Gregory, slowly dismounting. "There be
+players at the Peacock, for 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."
+
+"Do they play at the Shoreditch Theatre or at the inn, good Gregory?"
+
+"I' faith I know not, mistress," he replied, bracing his brawny right
+hand, palm up, at his knee.
+
+Mechanically she put one foot into his palm and sprang lightly upon the
+pillion behind the groom's saddle.
+
+As they turned and started at a jog trot northward, she remembered her
+sister and her new-found aunt.
+
+"Hold--hold, Gregory!" she cried. "What of Rebecca? What of my aunt--my
+gowns?"
+
+"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.
+
+"Now you mind your own business, Gregory!" said Phoebe, sharply.
+
+His face fell, and during the rest of their ride he maintained a rigid
+silence.
+
+                *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning found Phoebe 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 fingers was
+an open sheet of paper whose crisp folds showed it to be a letter.
+
+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.
+
+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
+Phoebe began to call herself. As for Isaac Burton, he seemed quite
+subject to his wife's will, and Phoebe found herself greatly estranged
+from him.
+
+That first afternoon, however, had transported her into a paradise the
+joys of which even Dame Burton could not spoil.
+
+Sitting in one of the exterior galleries overlooking the courtyard of
+the inn, Phoebe had witnessed a play given on a rough staging erected
+in the open air.
+
+The play was "The Merchant of Venice," and who can tell the thrills that
+tingled through Phoebe's frame as, with dry lips and a beating heart,
+she gazed 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.
+
+She was Phoebe Wise, and only Phoebe, 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Poor boy!" she murmured. Then, shaking her head with a smile: "I wonder
+how his letter found my room!" she said.
+
+She rose, and, going to the window where the light was stronger,
+flattened out the missive and read it again:
+
+
+"MY DEAR, DEAR MARY--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?
+
+"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."
+
+
+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.
+
+At length she turned slowly from the window and said softly:
+
+"Guy's a good fellow, and I'm a lucky girl!"
+
+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.
+
+The lass dropped a clumsy courtesy, and said:
+
+"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."
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Show the way, Betty," she said.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe'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.
+
+"Aha, lass!" she cried, as she caught sight of Phoebe, "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.
+
+"Leave the room, Betty!" she exclaimed. "Am I to have every lazy jade in
+London prying and eavesdropping? Trot--look alive!"
+
+She strode toward the reluctant maid and, with a good-natured push,
+hastened her exit. Then, closing the door, she turned again toward
+Phoebe, who had seated herself by the fire.
+
+"Well, Polly," she resumed, "art still bent on thy foppish lover, lass?
+Not mended since yesternight--what?"
+
+A cool slow inclination of Phoebe's head was the sole response.
+
+"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!"
+
+"A traitor!"
+
+Phoebe stood erect with one hand on her heart.
+
+Dame Burton repressed a smile and continued with a slow shake of the
+head:
+
+"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 ordered, and the
+two brothers will lose their heads together."
+
+Very pale, Phoebe stood with hands tight clasped before her.
+
+"Where have you learned this, mother?" she said.
+
+"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."
+
+"Let me see it."
+
+As Phoebe 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.
+
+"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!"
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+Phoebe'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
+wandered blindly forward, up one hall and down another without a
+distinct immediate plan and mentally paralyzed with dread.
+
+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:
+
+"Oh, Guy--Guy! Where shall I find you? What shall I do!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Too much Mary Burton, Miss Phoebe!" she murmured.
+
+She had recollected her precious box of letters. Of these there was one
+which made it entirely clear 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.
+
+Very dear to Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 approaching the principal entrance of the inn on the other side of
+the courtyard.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Mr. Droop--Mr. Droop!"
+
+The figure turned just as Phoebe 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.
+
+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,
+Phoebe was accustomed to eccentricities on the part of this somewhat
+disreputable acquaintance.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Did you do me the honor of a summons, mistress?" said he.
+
+The look of amazement on Phoebe's face made him bite his lips with
+increase of annoyance, for he saw in her emotion only renewed evidence
+of the ridicule to which he had subjected himself.
+
+"I--I crave pardon!" Phoebe stammered. "I fear I took you for another,
+sir."
+
+"For one Copernicus Droop, and I mistake not!"
+
+"Do you know him?" she faltered in amazement.
+
+"I have met him--to my sorrow, mistress. 'Tis the first time and the
+last, I vow, that Francis Bacon hath dealt with mountebanks!"
+
+"Francis Bacon!" cried Phoebe, 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.
+
+"Nay, good mistress," he replied. "Neither knight nor lord am I, but
+only plain Francis Bacon, barrister, and Secretary of the Star Chamber."
+
+"Oh!" Phoebe exclaimed, "not yet, I see."
+
+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."
+
+"Congratulations! Good lady, you speak in riddles!"
+
+Smiling, she shook her head at him, looking meaningly into his eyes.
+
+"Oh, think not _all_ 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 given but yesternight can be content to hide his name
+behind that of a too greatly favored player?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Nay--nay!" Phoebe 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!"
+
+"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?"
+
+"To speak plainly, then, sir, I saw your play of the vengeful Jew and
+good Master Antonio. What! Have I struck home!"
+
+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.
+
+"Struck home!" he exclaimed, shaking his head querulously. "Perhaps--but
+where? Do you perchance make a mock of me, Mistress--Mistress----?"
+
+She replied to the inquiry in his manner and tone with disappointment in
+her voice:
+
+"Mistress Mary Burton, sir, at your service."
+
+Bacon started back a step and a new and eager light leaped into his
+eyes.
+
+"The daughter of Isaac Burton?" he cried, "soon to be Sir Isaac?"
+
+"The same, sir. Do you know my father?"
+
+"Ay, indeed. 'Twas to seek him I came hither."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"But he hath gone into London, Master Bacon," said Phoebe. "It is most
+like he will not return ere to-morrow even."
+
+Droop's hat dropped from Bacon's relaxed grasp and he seemed to wilt in
+his speechless despair.
+
+Phoebe'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.
+
+"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."
+
+Revived by hope, he drew himself up briskly as he replied:
+
+"Why, 'twill do marvellous well, Mistress Mary--marvellous well--nor
+shall repayment be delayed, upon my honor!"
+
+"Nay, call it a fee," she replied, "and give me, I beg of you, a legal
+opinion in return."
+
+Bacon stooped to pick up the hat, from which he brushed the dust with
+his hand as he replied, with dubious slowness, looking down:
+
+"Why, in sooth, mistress, I am used to gain a greater honorarium. As a
+barrister of repute, mine opinions in writing----"
+
+"Ah, then, I fear my means are too small!" Phoebe broke in, with a
+smile. "'Tis a pity, too, for the matter is simple, I verily believe."
+
+Bacon saw that he must retract or lose all, and he went on with some
+haste:
+
+"Perchance 'tis not an opinion in writing that is required," he said.
+
+"Nay--nay; your spoken word will suffice, Master Bacon."
+
+"In that case, then----"
+
+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:
+
+"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 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?"
+
+As she concluded, Phoebe 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.
+
+The face into which she gazed was grave and judicial and the reply was a
+ready one.
+
+"Assuredly not! Such a bond were contrary to public policy and void _ab
+initio_. 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."
+
+"Oh!" Phoebe exclaimed, as this new view of the subject was presented
+to her. "Then the Duke of Venice----"
+
+She broke off and hurried into new questioning.
+
+"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 much as the weight of a hair. Think you this be law?"
+
+Still could she see no shadow in Bacon's face betraying consciousness
+that there was more in her words than met the ear.
+
+"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."
+
+Complete conviction seemed to spring upon Phoebe, 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:
+
+"Well, there now! That settles that! I guess if anybody wrote
+Shakespeare, it wasn't Bacon!"
+
+The astonishment--almost alarm--in her companion's face filled her with
+amusement, and her happy laugh rang through the echoing halls.
+
+"Many, many gracious thanks, good Master Bacon!" she exclaimed. "Right
+well have you earned your honorarium. And now, ere you depart, may I
+make bold to urge one last request?"
+
+With a bow the young man expressed his acquiescence.
+
+"If I mistake not, you will return forthwith to Master Droop, to the end
+that you may regain your proper garb, will you not?"
+
+"That is my intention."
+
+"Then I pray you, good Master Bacon, deliver this message to Master
+Droop from one Phoebe 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?"
+
+"Assuredly. I shall forget no word of the message wherewith I am so
+honored."
+
+"Tell him that it is a matter of life and death, sir--of life and
+death!"
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+HOW THE QUEEN READ HER NEWSPAPER
+
+
+For Rebecca, left alone in the goldsmiths' city 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 Phoebe'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.
+
+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 Phoebe 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.
+
+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 Phoebe was mentally unbalanced.
+
+The only remedy was to lure her into the Panchronicon, and regain the
+distant home they ought never to have left.
+
+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.
+
+"Well, well!" she exclaimed at length. "I'll cross that bridge when I
+come to it. The fust thing is to find Copernicus Droop."
+
+It was at about eleven o'clock in the morning of the day after
+Phoebe'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.
+
+She had scarcely fixed her eyes upon the muddy streets below her when
+she uttered a cry of amazement.
+
+"Good gracious alive! Ef there ain't Copernicus right this minute!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Hey!" she cried. "Hey, there, Mister Droop! Copernicus Droop!"
+
+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.
+
+She stopped short for a moment, paralyzed with astonishment.
+
+"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."
+
+And then began a race the like of which was never seen before. In
+advance, Francis Bacon scurried 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.
+
+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.
+
+From time to time she called aloud: "Hey, stop there! Copernicus Droop!
+Stop, I say! It's only Rebecca Wise!"
+
+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.
+
+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 with jokes which, fortunately for her, were worded in
+terms which her New England ears could not comprehend.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Leaving Eastcheap and its grimy tenements, they emerged from New Fish
+Street and saw the gleam of the river ahead of them.
+
+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.
+
+"Toll, lass, toll!" he shouted. "Who gave thee leave to run races in
+London streets?"
+
+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.
+
+"Well, young feller," she said, with icy dignity, "what can I do fer
+you?"
+
+The loafer fell back as she turned, and when she had spoken, he turned
+in mock alarm and fled, crying as he ran:
+
+"Save us--save us! Ugly and old as a witch, I trow!"
+
+Those in the background caught his final words and set up a new cry
+which boded Rebecca no good.
+
+"A witch--a witch! Seize her! Stone her!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Without warning, someone in the upper story of one of the houses near by
+threw from a window a pail of dirty water, which fell with a startling
+splash a few feet in front of Rebecca.
+
+She stopped in alarm and looked up severely.
+
+"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!"
+
+Slipping her bag onto her left wrist, she loosened the band of her
+umbrella and shook the ribs free.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+Turning the wide-spread gloria skyward, Rebecca hurried forward once
+more, still bent upon overtaking Copernicus Droop.
+
+That simple act saved her.
+
+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.
+
+Stones fell from deadened hands and the threatening growls and cries
+were lost in a unanimous gasp 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.
+
+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.
+
+She stepped promptly to his side and prodded him with her umbrella.
+
+"Here, mister!" she cried. "Wake up, please. What do you charge for
+ferryin' folks across the river?"
+
+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?
+
+Rebecca gazed after him for a moment and then, shaking her head
+pityingly, she murmured:
+
+"Tut--tut! Deef an' dumb, poor man! Dear, dear!"
+
+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 supplied full
+meaning to her gestures, she stepped into the wherry, and the two at
+once glided out on the placid bosom of the Thames.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+He and his boat had disappeared, but her disappointment 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"For the lands sakes!" she murmured. "Whoever in the world carries on in
+sech style's that!"
+
+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.
+
+"The Queen!" he exclaimed.
+
+Rebecca glanced at the boatman with slightly raised brows.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Victoria!" growled the waterman. "Ye seem as odd in speech as in dress,
+mistress. Who gave ye license to miscall our glorious sovereign?"
+
+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.
+
+Rebecca's new plan was therefore to appeal at once to this benign
+sovereign for aid, entreat her to command the Burtons to release
+Phoebe 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" Phoebe's madness, with its implied subterfuges and
+equivocations. The moment was propitious for making an attempt which
+could at least do no harm, she thought. She determined to carry out the
+plan which had occurred to her.
+
+Standing up in the boat: "What's the Queen's last name?" she asked.
+
+"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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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----"
+
+But he broke off in horror.
+
+Waving her umbrella high above her head, Rebecca, still standing upright
+in the boat, was calling at the top of her voice:
+
+"Hallo there! Mrs. Tudor! Stop the ship, will ye! I want to speak to
+Mrs. Tudor a minute!"
+
+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, impelled by momentum, glided
+forward directly under the bows of Rebecca's boat and not a hundred
+yards away.
+
+Again Rebecca's cry was borne shrill and clear across the water.
+
+"Hallo! Hallo there! Ain't Mrs. Tudor on the ship? I want to speak to
+her!" Then, turning to the stupefied and trembling waterman:
+
+"Why don't you row, you? What's the matter, anyway? Don't ye see they've
+stopped to wait fer us?"
+
+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.
+
+"Wherry, ahoy!" a hail came from the deck.
+
+"Ay, ay, sir!" the waterman cried.
+
+"Come alongside!"
+
+"Ay, ay, sir!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"The jade is moon-struck, your worship!" he exclaimed, eagerly. "I would
+not for a thousand pound----"
+
+"Moon-struck!" snapped the lieutenant. "Who gave thee commission to
+ferry madmen, fellow?"
+
+The poor waterman, at his wits' end, was about to reply when Rebecca
+interposed.
+
+"Young man," she said, standing up, "I'll thank you to 'tend to
+business. Is Mrs. Victoria Tudor at home?"
+
+At this moment a young gentleman, magnificently apparelled, stepped
+forth from the after cabin and approached the man in uniform.
+
+"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."
+
+Two of the barge's crew extended each a hand to Rebecca.
+
+"Bend onto that, Poll!" said one, grinning.
+
+"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?"
+
+A second gorgeously dressed attendant backed hastily out of the cabin.
+
+"Look alive!" he said, peremptorily. "Her Majesty waxes impatient. Where
+is the woman?"
+
+"Ay, ay, sir!" replied the sailors. "Here she be!"
+
+They leaned far forward and, grasping the astonished Rebecca each by a
+shoulder, lifted her quickly over the rail.
+
+The first gentleman messenger beckoned to her and started toward the
+cabin.
+
+"Follow me!" he said, curtly.
+
+Rebecca straightened her skirt and bonnet, shook her umbrella, and
+turned quietly to the rail, fumbling with the catch of her bag.
+
+"I pity yer manners, young man!" she said, coldly. Then, with some
+dismay:
+
+"Here you, mister, don't ye want yer money?"
+
+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.
+
+"Suit yourself," said Rebecca, simply. "Saves me a dime, I guess."
+
+Turning then to the impatient gentleman waiting at the door:
+
+"Guess you're one o' the family, ain't ye? Is your ma in, young man?"
+
+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.
+
+She nodded graciously and passed into the cabin.
+
+"That's better," she said, with an ingratiating smile. "Good manners
+never did a mite o' harm, did they?"
+
+Before following her, the messenger turned again to the young
+lieutenant.
+
+"Give way!" he said.
+
+At once the sweeps fell together, and the great barge resumed its course
+down the river.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Her face, somewhat long and thin, was carefully 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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."
+
+She looked about to right and left as though in search of something.
+
+"Don't seem to be any chairs around, only yours," she continued. Then,
+with a quick gesture of the hand: "No, don't get up. Set right still
+now. One o' your friends here can get me a chair, I guess," and she
+looked very meaningly into the face of a foppish young courtier who
+stood near her, twisting his thin yellow beard.
+
+At this moment the rising wonder of the Queen reached a climax, and she
+burst into speech with characteristic emphasis.
+
+"What the good jere!" she cried. "Hath some far planet sent us a
+messenger. The dame is loyal in all her fantasy. Say, my Lord of
+Nottingham, hath the woman a frenzy, think you?"
+
+The gentleman addressed stood near the Queen and was conspicuous for his
+noble air. His prominent gray eyes under rounded brows lighted up a
+long, oval face surmounted by a high, bald forehead. The long nose was
+aquiline, and the generous, full-lipped mouth was only half hidden by a
+neatly trimmed full blond beard. Rebecca noticed his dress particularly
+as he stepped forward at the Queen's summons, and marvelled at the two
+doublets and heavy cape coat over which hung a massive gold chain
+supporting the brilliant star of some order. She wondered how he could
+breathe with that stiff ruff close up under his chin and inclined
+downward from back to front.
+
+Dropping on one knee, Nottingham began his reply to the Queen's inquiry,
+though ere he finished his sentence he rose to his feet again at a
+gracious sign from his royal mistress.
+
+"May it please your Majesty," he said, "I would humbly crave leave to
+remove the prisoner from a presence she hath nor wit nor will to
+reverence. Judicial inquiry, in form appointed, may better determine
+than my poor judgment whether she be mad or bewitched."
+
+This solemn questioning of her sanity produced in Rebecca's mind a
+teasing compound of wrath and uneasiness. These people seemed to find
+something fundamentally irregular in her behavior. What could it be? The
+situation was intolerable, and she set to work in her straightforward,
+energetic way to bring it to an end.
+
+Stepping briskly up to the astonished Earl of Nottingham, she planted
+herself firmly before him, turning her back upon Elizabeth.
+
+"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."
+
+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:
+
+"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."
+
+"America!" exclaimed the Queen, as a new thought struck her. "America!
+Tell me, dame, come you from the New World?"
+
+"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, daughter of Wilmot
+and Nancy Wise, both deceased."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"'Tis well, my good knight," said Elizabeth, beckoning with her slender
+finger that he might rise. "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."
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Suiting the action to the word, Rebecca stepped briskly forward until
+she stood in front of the rather crestfallen courtier.
+
+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.
+
+"What's that?" she said.
+
+Again Sir Walter poured forth an unintelligible torrent of syllables
+which completed Rebecca's disgust.
+
+With a pitying smile, she folded her hands across her stomach.
+
+"Who's loony now?" she said, quietly.
+
+Raleigh gazed helplessly from Rebecca to the Queen and back again from
+the Queen to Rebecca.
+
+Elizabeth, who had but imperfectly heard what had passed between the
+two, leaned forward impatiently.
+
+"What says she, Raleigh?" she demanded. "Doth she give a good account?"
+
+"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----"
+
+"Florida!" exclaimed Rebecca. "What you talkin' about, anyway? That's
+away down South. I come from New Hampshire, I tell you."
+
+"Know you that region, Raleigh?" said the Queen, anxiously.
+
+Raleigh shook his head with a thoughtful expression.
+
+"Nay, your Majesty," he replied. "And if I might venture to hint my
+doubts--" He paused.
+
+"Well, go on, man--go on!" said the Queen, impatiently.
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+Elizabeth frowned and settled back in her chair, turning her piercing
+eyes once more upon her mysterious visitor.
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+A murmur of indignation spread through the assembly caused by language
+and manners so little suited to the address of royalty.
+
+"The woman hath lost her wits!" said the Queen, dryly.
+
+"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!"
+
+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 thought occurred to
+Rebecca, and, dropping her umbrella, she opened her satchel with both
+hands.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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:
+
+"Couldn't you get me a chair, sonny?"
+
+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.
+
+Rebecca gazed about at the etiquette-bound men and women around her and
+muttered, with an indignant snort and toss of the head:
+
+"Set o' decorated haystacks!"
+
+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.
+
+"Oof!" she exclaimed. "Feels though my legs would drop clear off!"
+
+At length the Queen looked up.
+
+"Why, what now!" she exclaimed. "Whither hath the strange woman gone?"
+
+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.
+
+"Well, my Lord of Southampton," said the Queen, kindly, "I doubt some
+gay mischief be afoot. Your face tells me as much, my lord."
+
+"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!"
+
+Elizabeth smiled and replied:
+
+"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."
+
+The earl arose and replied:
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+Rebecca nodded with a pleased look.
+
+"Well, there!" she exclaimed. "Much obliged to you all. That's certainly
+better."
+
+"Dame," said Elizabeth, sternly, "is this the respect you show to them
+above you in America?"
+
+"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."
+
+Elizabeth raised her brows and, leaning toward the lord treasurer, who
+stood at her side, she said in an undertone:
+
+"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?"
+
+Lord Burleigh bowed profoundly and mumbled something about its being
+out of his immediate province--he would have investigation made--etc.,
+etc.
+
+The Queen cut him short a little impatiently.
+
+"Let it be done, my lord," she said.
+
+Then turning to Rebecca, she continued:
+
+"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."
+
+Here the Queen shot a glance at poor Sir Walter Raleigh, who now seemed
+the personification of discomfiture.
+
+"By what name are you called?" Elizabeth continued.
+
+"Wise," said Rebecca, very graciously, "Rebecca Wise."
+
+"Lady Rebecca, will you sit nearer?"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+So saying, she advanced and sat beside the Queen, who now turned once
+more to the luckless Raleigh.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Oh, I dare say 'tain't his fault!" said Rebecca, 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."
+
+Elizabeth took up the newspaper once more.
+
+"Was this printed in your realm, Lady Rebecca?" she asked.
+
+"Hey!"
+
+Elizabeth started haughtily, but recollected herself and repeated:
+
+"Was this leaf printed in your country?"
+
+"Oh, yes--yes, indeed! Down to New York. Pretty big paper, ain't it?"
+
+"Not voluminous alone, but right puzzling to plain English minds," said
+the Queen, scanning the paper severely. "Instance this."
+
+Slowly she read the opening lines of a market report:
+
+"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."
+
+"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?"
+
+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.
+
+"I guess that's the Wall Street talk I've heerd tell of," she said. "I
+don't understand that kind myself."
+
+"Why, Sir Walter," Elizabeth exclaimed, triumphantly, "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?"
+
+"Even so, my liege," was the dejected reply, "the tribes of the North
+are known to no man as yet."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+Elizabeth flashed a stern glance upon her visitor.
+
+"'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!"
+
+"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."
+
+Elizabeth evaded the issue and turned now to the illustrations.
+
+"These be quaint-wondrous images!" she said. "Pray, what now may this
+be? Some fantastic reverie limned for amusement?"
+
+Rebecca jumped up again and peered over the Queen's shoulder.
+
+"Why, thet's a picture of the troops marchin' down Broadway, in New
+York City. See, it's all explained in print underneath it."
+
+"But these men carry arquebuses and wear a livery. And these temples--to
+what false gods are they set up?"
+
+"False gods!" exclaimed Rebecca. "Bless your simple heart, those ain't
+temples. They're jest the buildin's where the men hev their offices."
+
+Elizabeth sat in mute contemplation, vainly seeking to realize it all.
+
+"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."
+
+She frowned at Sir Walter, who dropped his eyes.
+
+"'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?"
+
+She paused and only silence ensued.
+
+Rebecca stooped and recovered the paper, which in falling had opened so
+as to expose new matter.
+
+"Don't be surprised," she said, soothingly. "I allus did hear that
+Britishers knew mighty little 'bout America."
+
+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 aspect as she eagerly brought the print nearer to her
+eyes.
+
+"Why, what now!" she exclaimed. "God mend us, here have we strange
+attire! Is this a woman of your tribe, my lady?"
+
+Rebecca looked and blushed. Then, in an uneasy tone, she said:
+
+"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!"
+
+"A corset, call you it! And these, then?"
+
+"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'."
+
+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.
+
+"Ah!" she sighed, and glanced pleasantly over her shoulder, "here be
+matters of moment, indeed! Your Grace of Devonshire, what say you to
+this?"
+
+Eagerly the elderly lady so addressed stepped forward and made a low
+reverence.
+
+"Look--look here, ladies all!" Elizabeth continued, with a tremor of
+excitement in her voice. "Saw you ever such an array as this?"
+
+With one accord the whole bevy of assembled ladies pressed forward,
+trembling with delighted anticipation. A fashion sheet--and from the
+New World! What wonder they were moved!
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+Then, turning to the Lord High Admiral:
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+Peering through the glass sides of the cabin, Rebecca could see the
+landing wharf, thronged with 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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+THE FAT KNIGHT AT THE BOAR'S HEAD
+
+
+When Francis Bacon, having evaded Rebecca's mistaken pursuit, reached
+the deserted grove in which the Panchronicon still rested, he found to
+his dismay that Droop was absent.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 quest.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+The lad stopped and stared hard at the bright wheels. He seemed thinking
+hard.
+
+"What mean you, master, by a cut?" he said, at length.
+
+"Oh, pshaw--bother!" Droop exclaimed. "Jest tell me the way to
+Eastcheap, wilt thee?"
+
+The boy pointed straight north up New Fish Street.
+
+"Eastcheap is yonder," he said, and turned away.
+
+"Well, that's somethin'," muttered Droop. "Gives me a start, anyway."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+He thought it wise to reconnoitre before proceeding farther, and,
+peeping through the small leaded panes, he found he could survey the
+entire apartment.
+
+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.
+
+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, standing before the fire with her other hand resting on her hip,
+was evidently delivering her sentiments in no gentle terms.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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.
+
+To his surprise, instead of the torrent of words which he had expected
+to hear when he opened the 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 _tete-a-tete_.
+
+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 table whispering busily, and could see that they had their
+heads together.
+
+The fat man stirred in his chair with a rolling motion.
+
+"Drawer!" he called.
+
+"Here!" cried the drawer, bustling up to the fire.
+
+"A second tankard of that same sack, boy. Bustle, bustle!"
+
+"I must first to my mistress, sir," was the reply. "Nothing for credit,
+sir, save by permission."
+
+"A pox upon thee!" growled the thirsty man. "On thee and thy mistress,
+too!"
+
+Muttering and shaking his head, the ponderous guest stretched forth his
+legs, closed his eyes, and composed himself for a nap.
+
+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.
+
+"Did you call, sir?" he said.
+
+"Yes," said Copernicus. "Bring me a schooner of light lager."
+
+The drawer's busy apron hand stopped at once and its owner leaned hard
+on the table.
+
+"What command gave you, sir?" he said.
+
+"Marry--a schooner of lager--light, forsooth!" Droop repeated.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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.
+
+"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 _do_ ye sell, then?"
+
+The drawer scratched his head, and then grinned suddenly and gave vent
+to a dry laugh.
+
+"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----"
+
+"That's right, by my halidom!" Droop broke in. "Bring me some ale,
+waiter."
+
+The drawer whisked away and returned in a few moments with a huge power
+tankard topped with a snowy foam.
+
+"That's the stuff!" said Droop, smacking his lips. He half-emptied the
+beaker, and then, turning to the drawer:
+
+"Can you tell me," he said, "if I can find a man by the name of Hart
+here--Sir Percevall Hart?"
+
+"Sir Percevall," said the drawer, in an undertone. "Why, there's your
+man, master. The fat knight snoring by yon fire."
+
+"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.
+
+Copernicus lapsed into meditation and the drawer withdrew. At length
+Droop roused himself with a shake.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+Sitting up straight and now fully awake, Sir Percevall stared first at
+Copernicus and then at the letter.
+
+"A letter!" he exclaimed. "For me?"
+
+"Verily, yea," Droop replied, very politely.
+
+The knight opened the letter slowly and turned so that the light from a
+window fell full upon it.
+
+"What's here!" he exclaimed. "This direction is to my Lord Burleigh."
+
+"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."
+
+With leisurely gravity, Sir Percevall slowly read the note, and then,
+returning it with a polite gesture:
+
+"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----"
+
+"Droop, sir. Copernicus Droop's my name."
+
+"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----"
+
+"Droop, sir--Droop."
+
+"Nay--cry you mercy--Master Droop."
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"What ho, there! Drawer!" he shouted, as soon as they were comfortably
+disposed face to face.
+
+"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.
+
+"A quart of sack, villain!" said Sir Percevall.
+
+"And for you, sir?" said the drawer, turning to Droop.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+He interrupted himself to give his attention to the wine which had just
+been placed before him.
+
+"To better acquaintance!" he said, and the two drank deep together.
+
+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.
+
+"Of this letter, now," the knight resumed, anxious to discover his own
+advantage in Droop's plans. "'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!"
+
+"Is that a fact?" said Droop, admiringly. "It certainly ain't done your
+conversation any harm to be affected that way."
+
+"Oh, then, an you jest, Master----"
+
+"Not a mite!" exclaimed Copernicus, anxiously. "Verily, nay, friend.
+Trust me--never!"
+
+"Or never trust thee!" quoth the knight, with a twinkle in his eye.
+
+Droop took refuge in his wine, and Sir Percevall imitating him, the two
+emptied their cups together and sighed with a simultaneous content.
+
+"That's not bad swizzle," said Droop, patronizingly. "But, as fer me,
+give me whiskey every time!"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"How should I taste it, man, not knowing its very name?"
+
+"Verily, thou sayest sooth!" said Droop. Then, glancing all about him:
+"Ain't there any smaller glasses 'round here?"
+
+"Drawer--ho, drawer, I say!" roared the knight.
+
+"Here, sir--here! What is your pleasure?"
+
+"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!"
+
+When the two small glasses were brought, Droop uncorked his flask and
+poured each full to the brim.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+"Have another?" said Droop, cheerfully.
+
+"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 yet I feel the wanton laugh in me a'ready. Good
+fellows need good company, my master! So pour me his fellow! So--so!"
+
+They drank again, and this time the more cautious knight escaped all
+painful consequences.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+He paused and Droop nodded.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Bacon told me as much," said Droop.
+
+"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?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"With a small retainer, of course, to bind fast. Say--oh, a matter of
+twenty gold angels or so."
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+"As many devils sooner!" said Droop, indignantly. "I'll take my pigs to
+another market."
+
+He rose and beckoned to the drawer.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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.
+
+"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?"
+
+Droop scratched his head and seemed to hesitate. Finally he slapped the
+table with his open hand and cried with a burst of generosity:
+
+"I'll tell ye what I _will_ 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!"
+
+"Nay--nay!" said the knight, straightening himself with dignity. "'Twere
+a mere fool's prank at such terms!"
+
+"Oh, all right!" cried Droop, turning away.
+
+"Hold--hold! Not so fast!" cried Sir Percevall. But Copernicus merely
+slapped his hat on his head and started toward the door.
+
+Sir Percevall leaned over the table in flushed desperation.
+
+"Listen, friend!" he cried. "Wilt make a jolly night of it in the
+bargain?"
+
+Droop stopped and turned to his companion.
+
+"D'ye mean right now?"
+
+A nod was the reply.
+
+"And you'll take my offer if I do?"
+
+The knight sat upright and slapped the table.
+
+"On my honor!" he cried.
+
+"Then it's a go!" said Droop.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+HOW SHAKESPEARE WROTE HIS PLAYS
+
+
+As Francis Bacon returned to London from the Peacock, Phoebe 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.
+
+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!
+
+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 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----
+
+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.
+
+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 Phoebe, for he was apparently deeply
+preoccupied in carving some device upon the very post against which Guy
+had leaned.
+
+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?
+
+Clasping her hands behind her, she smiled at the lad with head thrown
+back.
+
+"A wager, lad!" she cried. "Two shillings to a groat thou art cutting a
+love-token!"
+
+The fellow looked up and tried to hide his knife. Then, grinning, he
+replied:
+
+"I'll no take your challenge, mistress. Yet, i' good faith, 'tis but to
+crown another's work."
+
+Then, pointing with his blade:
+
+"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."
+
+She blushed suddenly, wondering if it were Guy who had done this.
+Stepping to the side of the stable-boy, she examined the post.
+
+The letters were in pairs. They were M. B. and G. F.
+
+Her feeling bubbled over in a little half-stifled laugh.
+
+"Silly!" she exclaimed. Then to the boy: "Know you him who cut the
+letters?" she asked, with affected indifference.
+
+"Nay, mistress," he replied, falling again to his work, "but he be a
+rare un wi' the bottle."
+
+"The bottle!" Phoebe exclaimed, in amazement. Then quite sternly:
+"Thou beliest him, knave! No more sober--" She checked herself, suddenly
+conscious of her indiscretion.
+
+"Why, how knowest his habits?" she asked, more quietly.
+
+"A saw un, mistress, sitting in the kitchen wi' two bottles o' Spanish
+wine. Ask the player else."
+
+"The player! What player?"
+
+"Him as was drinking wi' him. Each cracked his bottle, and 'twas nip and
+tuck which should call first for the second."
+
+So Guy had spent the evening--those hours when she was tenderly
+dreaming of him with love renewed--drinking and carousing with some
+dissolute actor!
+
+Within her Phoebe Wise and Mary Burton struggled for mastery of her
+opinion.
+
+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.
+
+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 Phoebe railed.
+
+"Who was the player?" she asked, sharply.
+
+"Him as wore the long white beard," said the boy. "The Jew, to wit. Eh,
+but a got his cess, the runnion!"
+
+"Shylock!" she cried, in spite of herself.
+
+So this was the gossiping barn-stormer, the dissolute actor. Will
+Shakespeare it was with whom her Guy had spent the evening! Phoebe
+Wise could but capitulate, and Mary Burton took for a time triumphant
+possession of the heart that was Guy Fenton's.
+
+"Have the players left the Peacock?" she asked, eagerly.
+
+"Nay, mistress, know you not that they play to-night at the home of Sir
+William Percy?"
+
+"Then they are here, at the inn, boy?"
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+When Phoebe 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.
+
+She reached a small stone basin surmounted by a statue of Plenty, whose
+inverted horn suggested a copious stream long since choked up. Behind
+the fountain there was a stone bench with a high back. Peeping behind
+this, Phoebe 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.
+
+At this moment Phoebe 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.
+
+Could this be he? Shakespeare! The immortal Prince of Poets!
+
+To Mary Burton, the approach of a mere player would have given little
+concern. But Phoebe 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.
+
+The steps of the new-comer slowly approached. Phoebe 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.
+
+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?
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Then he spoke.
+
+"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:
+
+
+    "Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
+    Sighing his heart out in a woful ballad--
+
+m--m--m--Ah!--
+
+    Made to his mistress' eyebrow."
+
+
+He chuckled audibly a moment, and then, speaking a little louder:
+
+"Fenton to the life, poor lad!" he said.
+
+Phoebe 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!
+
+Unconscious of the small inward drama so near at hand, the playwright
+proceeded with his composition.
+
+"'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:
+
+
+    "Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
+    Sighing like furnace with a woful ballad
+    Made to his mistress' eyebrow."
+
+
+'Twill pass, in sooth, 'twill pass!"
+
+Lightly Phoebe 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.
+
+There was the head so familiar to us all--the domelike brow, the long
+hair hanging over the ears. 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.
+
+He ceased writing and leaned against the back, gazing straight ahead.
+
+"The third age past, what then? Why the soldier, i' faith--the
+soldier----"
+
+
+    "Full of strange oaths"
+
+
+came a mischievous whisper from an invisible source--
+
+
+                       "and bearded like the pard.
+    Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
+    Seeking the bubble reputation
+    Even in the cannon's mouth."
+
+
+For a moment the poet sat as though paralyzed with astonishment. Then
+rising, he turned and faced the daring girl.
+
+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 Phoebe
+mirrors of universal life, yet just now full of a perplexed admiration.
+
+For she was herself the centre of a picture well 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.
+
+With a trilling laugh, half-suppressed, she spoke at last.
+
+"A penny for your thoughts, Master Shakespeare!" she said.
+
+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.
+
+"'Show me first your penny,'" he quoted.
+
+"I'll owe you it."
+
+He laughed and shook his head.
+
+"That would I not my thoughts, damsel."
+
+"Pay them, then. Pay straightway!" she pouted, "and see the account be
+fair."
+
+"Nay, then," he replied, bowing half-mockingly, "an the accountant be so
+passing fair, must not the account suffer in the comparison?"
+
+The face disappeared for a moment, and then Phoebe emerged from behind
+the stone rampart, dusting her hands off daintily one against the other.
+
+"Did not your wit exceed your gallantry, sir," she said, courtesying
+slightly, "I had had my answer sooner."
+
+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:
+
+"Nay, then, fair mistress, an I had known----"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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----"
+
+"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?"
+
+The amazement in her companion's face was irresistible, and Phoebe
+burst forth into a spontaneous laugh of purest merriment.
+
+"'A hit--a hit--a very palpable hit!'" she quoted, clapping her hands in
+her glee.
+
+"Were not witches an eldritch race," said Shakespeare, "you, mistress,
+might well lie under grave suspicion."
+
+"What--what! Do I not fit the wizened stamp of Macbeth's sisters
+three?"
+
+Shakespeare flung out his arms with a gesture of despair.
+
+"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----"
+
+He broke off and coming to her side, spoke earnestly in lowered tones.
+
+"Tell me. Have you the fabled power to read the soul? Naught else
+explains your speech."
+
+"Tell me, sir, first the truth," said Phoebe. "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?"
+
+"Bacon--Francis Bacon," said he, evidently at a loss. "There was one
+Nicholas Bacon----"
+
+"Nay, 'tis of his son I speak."
+
+"Then, in good sooth, I can but answer 'No,' mistress; since that I knew
+not even that this Nicholas had a son."
+
+Phoebe heaved a sigh of relief and then went on with a partial return
+of her former spirit.
+
+"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."
+
+"As you like it," said Shakespeare, bowing, half-amused and wholly
+mystified.
+
+"Good!" she retorted, brightly. "'As You Like It' shall you name the
+piece, that henceforth this our conversation you may bear in mind."
+
+Smiling, he took up his papers and wrote across the top of one of them
+"As You Like It" in large characters.
+
+"Now write as I shall bid you," Phoebe said. "Pray be seated, good my
+pupil, come."
+
+Then, seated there by Phoebe's side, the poet committed to paper the
+whole of Jacques's speech on "The Seven Ages," just as Phoebe spoke it
+from her memory of the Shakespeare club at home.
+
+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. Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+"Is it then true?" he said, in an undertone. "Doth 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?"
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+There was a minute's pause ere Phoebe turned toward the speaker, that
+spirit of mischief dancing again in her eyes and on her lips.
+
+"I am Mary Burton, of Burton Hall," she said.
+
+"Oh!" he exclaimed. And then again: "Oh!" with much of understanding and
+something of disappointment.
+
+"Is all clear now?" she asked, roguishly.
+
+Shakespeare rose, and, shaking one finger playfully at her, he said:
+
+"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 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.
+
+"Indeed! In very sooth!" said Phoebe, 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.
+
+"Nay, there I grant you," said the poet, shaking his head, while the
+puzzled expression crept once more into his face.
+
+"Ay, there, and in more than this!" Phoebe 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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"'To be or not to be, that is the question,'" quoted Phoebe. "Runs it
+not so?"
+
+"This passes!" cried Shakespeare, once more all amazement. "I told not
+this to your friend!"
+
+"Nor did I from Guy receive it," said Phoebe. "Tell me, Master
+Shakespeare, have you yet brought that speech to its term?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"My life upon it!" she cried, eagerly.
+
+He shook his head, smiling incredulously.
+
+"You scarce know what you promise," he said. "Can one so young--a
+damsel, too--sound to its bitter deeps the soul of Hamlet!"
+
+"Think you so?" Phoebe replied, her eyes sparkling. "Then what say you
+to a bargain, Master Shakespeare? You know where Sir Guy Fenton may be
+found?"
+
+"Ay, right well! 'Tis a matter of one hour's ride."
+
+"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?"
+
+Shakespeare looked into her face for a few moments in silence.
+
+"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."
+
+"Now blessings on thee!" cried Phoebe. "Give me straight the line you
+last have written."
+
+At once the poet began:
+
+"When he himself might his quietus make----"
+
+"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."
+
+"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!"
+
+He turned and paced back and forth upon the gravel, repeating without
+mistake and with gestures and accents inimitable the lines which
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+"Nay, but tell me, damsel," he cried, appealingly. "Explain this power!
+Art thou, indeed, no other than Mary Burton?"
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+"You say well," he replied. "Give me your message, and count fully on
+Will Shakespeare to carry it with all despatch and secrecy."
+
+Phoebe'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.
+
+"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 fidele'--do
+you see?"
+
+"Be faithful--ay."
+
+"'Twill be an admonition for you both," said Phoebe, 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."
+
+"Good!" said Shakespeare. "And now good-by until we meet again."
+
+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.
+
+When she reached the gate no one was in sight.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+HOW THE FAT KNIGHT DID HOMAGE
+
+
+On Rebecca's arrival with the royal attendants at 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.
+
+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."
+
+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 surrounded.
+
+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.
+
+Her anxiety in Phoebe'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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Clarissa was employed in embroidering a stomacher whose green, gold, and
+russet set off her dark 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"There, now!" she said. "I declare, Miss Margaret, that's real sweet
+music. I'm much obliged to ye, I'm sure."
+
+Margaret arose and courtesied, blushing.
+
+"Would your Highness that I play again?" she asked.
+
+"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."
+
+She turned to the four maids of honor seated behind her.
+
+"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."
+
+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 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.
+
+"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----"
+
+Clarissa's wondering eyes caught the speaker's attention and she
+coughed.
+
+"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.
+Phoebe--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'----"
+
+An involuntary and unanimous gasp of amazement from her fair auditors
+cut Rebecca short at this point.
+
+"Well," she said, a little anxiously, "what's the matter? Anythin'
+wrong?"
+
+The Lady Clarissa ventured to voice the general sentiment.
+
+"Did we hear aright, your Highness?" she asked. "Said you--'wash up the
+dishes'?"
+
+"Oh!" said Rebecca, conscious for the first time of her slip, "did that
+puzzle ye?"
+
+"Do queens and princesses perform menial offices in America?" asked the
+Honorable Lady Margaret.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+There was some whispering among the girls at this, and Rebecca's ears
+caught the expressions "passing strange" and "most wonderful" more than
+once.
+
+She waited until the first excitement thus produced had subsided and
+then proceeded.
+
+"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----"
+
+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.
+
+"Gracious alive!" she cried. "If there ain't a bicycle! Well, well,
+don't that look nat'ral, now! Makes me feel homesick."
+
+She turned to her companions, each of whom was ceremoniously standing,
+but all showing clearly in their faces the curiosity which consumed
+them.
+
+"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."
+
+The obedience to this summons was prompt and willing, and Rebecca turned
+again to observe those who came with the mysterious bicycle.
+
+"Land o' sunshine!" she exclaimed, "did ye ever see sech a fat man as
+that! Do any of you girls know who 'tis?"
+
+"'Tis Sir Percevall Hart, harbinger to the Queen, I ween," Clarissa
+replied.
+
+"Gracious!" said Rebecca, anxiously. "I do hope now he ain't bringin'
+any _very_ bad news!"
+
+"Wherefore should he, your Highness?" said Clarissa.
+
+"Why, if he's a harbinger of woe--ain't that what they call 'em?" she
+spoke, with some timidity.
+
+"Nay," said the Lady Margaret. "Sir Percevall is reputed a wit and a
+pleasant companion, your Highness. He is harbinger to the Queen."
+
+"An' who's the man with him in black togs an' rumpled stockin's?" said
+Rebecca. "The one holdin' the bicycle?"
+
+"Mean you him holding the two bright wheels, your Highness?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Lady Margaret could not answer, nor could any 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.
+
+"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."
+
+Then turning to Lady Margaret again, she continued:
+
+"Would you mind runnin' down to ask who that man is, Miss Margaret?
+Seems to me I know that bicycle."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+The Queen and her retinue were obliged to pass across the courtyard on
+the way to the apartment 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.
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+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.
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+The Queen's train was very long and was carried by a marchioness, whose
+plain attire set off the magnificence of royalty.
+
+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.
+
+On each side of this main procession there was a single file of five
+and twenty gentlemen pensioners, each carrying a gilt battle-axe.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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 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.
+
+Sir Percevall lost his balance, and, feeling himself toppling, threw his
+hands out forward with a cry and fell flat on his face.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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 doth us such low obeisance!" Then, beckoning to those
+of her gentleman pensioners who stood nearest:
+
+"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."
+
+Four gentlemen, dropping their gilt axes, hastened to Sir Percevall's
+aid, raising him by the arms and shoulders.
+
+"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."
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+"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."
+
+"Nay, your Majesty," was the reply. "'Tis his sovereign's will and high
+command that stiffens poor Percy's limbs, and in obedience only that he
+finds strength to present his suit."
+
+"A suit!" she exclaimed. "Pride cometh before a fall, 'tis said. Then,
+in sooth, by the rule of contraries, a fall should presage humility's
+reward. What says my Lord Baron?"
+
+She turned to Burleigh, who smiled and, bowing, replied:
+
+"So witty a flight to so sound a conclusion Cecil could not have winged
+alone, but where majesty teacheth wisdom, who shall refuse it!"
+
+"'Tis well!" said Elizabeth, more soberly. "Rise, Sir Knight, and, when
+that we have supped, seek audience again. An the petition be in reason,
+'twill not suffer for the fall you have had."
+
+With this speech, Sir Percevall's first audience ended, and it was with
+a happy face that he suffered himself to be helped to his feet by the
+four gentlemen who had first been sent to his aid.
+
+As the Queen resumed her progress and entered the apartments wherein she
+was to prepare for her evening meal, there resounded through the palace
+the ringing notes of trumpets and the musical booming of a kettle-drum.
+
+In a large antechamber immediately outside of the room where the Queen
+was to sup there was placed a splendidly carved table of black oak, and
+here were made all the preparations for her repast, accompanied by the
+usual ceremonies.
+
+Moving to the sound of trumpets and drum, two gentlemen entered the
+room, the first bearing a rod and the second a table-cloth. Advancing
+one behind the other, they kneeled three times between the door and
+table, apparently expressing the deepest veneration. Having spread the
+table, they retired backward, not forgetting to repeat the genuflections
+as performed on their approach.
+
+These first two were followed immediately by two other gentlemen, the
+first with a rod and the other carrying a salt-seller, plates, and
+bread. These articles were carried to the table with the same ceremony
+as had attended the spreading of the cloth.
+
+Next there entered a young lady, whose coronet indicated the rank of
+countess and whose uncovered bosom proclaimed the unmarried state. She
+was accompanied by a married lady of lower rank, carrying a knife. The
+Countess rubbed the plates with bread and salt, and then the two ladies
+stood awhile by the table, awaiting the arrival of the supper.
+
+Finally there entered, one at a time, twenty-four yeomen of the guard,
+the tallest and handsomest men in the royal service, bareheaded and
+clothed in scarlet coats, with roses embroidered in gold thread on their
+backs. Each yeoman carried a separate special dish intended for the
+royal repast, and, as each approached the table, the lady with the knife
+cut off and placed in his mouth a portion of the food which he was
+carrying. After depositing their dishes upon the table, the yeomen
+departed and the maids of honor then approached and carried the dishes
+into the inner room, where the Queen sat at her supper.
+
+Of all those who thus advanced to the table and departed walking
+backward, none omitted the reverent kneelings, nor did anyone concerned
+in all this ceremony speak a word until it was concluded. Although the
+Queen was actually absent, in fiction she was present, and it was to
+this fiction that so much reverence was paid.
+
+Shortly after the commencement of these preparations, Droop and his
+guide appeared among other petitioners and other lookers-on around the
+doorways. Copernicus carried his phonographic apparatus, but the bicycle
+had been left in the court-yard in the care of a man-at-arms.
+
+"Jiminy!" said Droop, looking curiously about him, "ain't this A No. 1,
+though! Et must be fun to be a queen, eh, Percevall?"
+
+"To speak truly, my lad," said the knight, "there is something too much
+of bravery and pomp in the accidents of royalty. What! Can a king
+unbend--be merry--a good fellow with his equals? No! And would you or I
+barter this freedom for a crown?" He shook his head. "Which think you
+passed the merrier night--or the Queen (God's blessing on her) or you
+and I?"
+
+Droop paid little heed to his companion, for his eyes were busy with the
+unwonted scene before him.
+
+"Well, now!" he exclaimed. "Look there, Sir Knight. See how the old lady
+digs out a piece o' that pie and pokes it into that lord's mouth! He
+must be mighty hungry! I'm darned ef I'd thought they'd hev let him hev
+his grub before the Queen--and out of her own dish, too!"
+
+"Nay, Brother Droop," said the Englishman, "this custom hath its origin
+in the necessary precaution of our sovereign. Who knows but that poison
+be in this food! Have not a score of scurvy plots been laid against her
+life? 'Tis well to test what is meant for the use of majesty."
+
+Droop whistled low.
+
+"Thet's the wrinkle, eh?" he said. "I don't guess I'd be much tempted to
+take a job here as a taster, then! Hello!" he said. "Why, they're takin'
+the victuals out o' the room. What's that fer? Did they find p'ison in
+'em?"
+
+Sir Percevall did not reply. His attention had been caught by the
+arrival of a strangely dressed woman, apparently attended by six maids
+of honor.
+
+Turning to a gentleman at his elbow:
+
+"Can you tell me, sir," he said, "who is yonder stranger in outlandish
+apparel?"
+
+Following the speaker's eyes, the gentleman stared for a few moments and
+then replied:
+
+"Marry, sir, it can but be the American princess with her retinue. They
+say that her Majesty much affects this strange new-comer."
+
+It was, indeed, Rebecca who, in response to an invitation brought by a
+page in the Queen's livery, was on the way to take supper with
+Elizabeth. On her arrival at the anteroom door, an attendant went in
+before the Queen to announce her presence; and, while awaiting
+admission, Rebecca gazed about her with a curiosity still unsatisfied.
+
+"There, now," she was saying, "'twas suttenly too bad to send you off on
+a wild-goose chase, Miss Margaret. Ef you could hev found the man, I'd
+hev ben glad, though."
+
+At that very moment, a voice close beside her made her start violently.
+
+"Well--well! I declare! Rebecca Wise, how do you do!"
+
+She turned and saw him of whom she was at that moment speaking, and lo!
+to her amazement, it was Copernicus Droop who held out his right hand.
+
+"Copernicus Droop!" she gasped. Then, remembering her adventure of the
+previous day, she went on coldly, without noticing the proffered hand:
+"Ye seem right glad to see me _now_, Mr. Droop."
+
+Droop was taken aback at her manner and at the sarcastic emphasis laid
+upon the word "now."
+
+"Why--why--of course," he stammered. "I thought you was lost."
+
+"Lost!" she cried, indignantly. "Lost! Why, you know right well I chased
+you up one street and down the other all the mornin' yesterday. You
+tried to lose me, Mr. Droop--and now you find me again, you see. Oh,
+yes, you _must_ be glad to see me!"
+
+Droop was at first all astonishment at this accusation, but in a few
+moments he guessed the true state of the case. Without delay he
+explained the exchange of clothes, and had no difficulty in persuading
+Rebecca that it was Francis Bacon whom she had pursued by mistake.
+
+"Poor young man!" Rebecca exclaimed, in a low voice of contrition. "Why,
+he must hev took me fer a lunatic!"
+
+Then she suddenly recollected her young attendants, and turned so as to
+bring them on one hand and Droop on the other.
+
+"Young ladies," she said, primly, "this here's Mr. Copernicus Droop,
+from America."
+
+With one accord the six girls dropped their eyes and courtesied low.
+
+"Mr. Droop," Rebecca continued, as she indicated one of the girls after
+the other with her forefinger, "make you acquainted with Miss Clarissa,
+Miss Margaret, Miss Maria, Miss Gertrude, Miss Evelina, and Miss
+Dorothy. They've got sech tangled-up last names, I declare I can't keep
+'em in my head. Mr. Droop's the same rank I am," she concluded,
+addressing the girls.
+
+Droop fidgeted and bowed six awkward bows with eyes riveted to the
+ground. He had never been a ladies' man, and this unexpected
+presentation was a doubly trying ordeal.
+
+There was a murmur of "your Highness" from the courtesying young women
+which convinced the abashed Yankee that he was being mocked, and this
+impression was deepened by the ill-suppressed giggles occasioned by the
+sight of his sadly rumpled hose. His confusion was complete.
+
+"Now, tell me," said Rebecca, curiously, "whatever brought you up here?
+Hev ye some errand with the Queen?"
+
+"Yes," said Droop. "My friend and me came up here to get a patent. Say,"
+he exclaimed, brightening up with startling suddenness, "praps you know
+the racket--got the inside track, eh?"
+
+"Inside track!"
+
+"Yes. Don't you know the Patent Examiner--or Commissioner, or Lord High
+Thingummy that runs the Patent Office here? I hate to bother the Queen
+about sech things! Goodness knows, I'd never ha' thought o' troublin'
+President McKinley about patents!"
+
+Rebecca shook her head.
+
+"I'm blest ef I know the fust thing about it," she declared. "Ef you
+take my advice, you'll not bother Miss Elizabeth 'bout your old
+patents."
+
+At this moment the page returned.
+
+"Her Majesty awaits your Royal Highness within," he said, bowing deeply.
+
+Droop's jaws fell apart and his eyes opened wide.
+
+"Royal Highness!" he murmured.
+
+"Well, I've got to go now," said Rebecca, smiling at her friend's
+astonishment. "But don't you go 'way fer a while yet. I'll try an' get
+the Queen to let you in soon. I want to talk with you 'bout lots of
+things."
+
+In a moment she was gone, leaving Copernicus rooted to the floor and
+dumb with amazement.
+
+Someone touched his elbow and, turning, he saw Sir Percevall, with the
+light of triumph on his fat face.
+
+"Fortune's smiles have turned to mere laughter, my lad," he said,
+chuckling. "This American princess hath the Queen's good-will. How the
+fiend's name came you acquainted?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE FATE OF SIR PERCEVALL'S SUIT
+
+
+In the inner chamber, Elizabeth was seated at a small table, at the
+opposite end of which sat Rebecca. Burleigh, Nottingham, and two or
+three other great lords stood near at hand, while one dish after another
+was brought in from the outer room by maids of honor.
+
+Standing to the right of the Queen's chair was a dark man of foreign
+aspect, wearing the robes of a Doctor of Laws. In his hand was Rebecca's
+copy of the New York _World_, which he was perusing with an expression
+of the utmost perplexity.
+
+"Well, Master Guido," said the Queen, "what make you of it?"
+
+"Maesta eccellentissima--" the scholar began.
+
+"Nay--nay. Speak good plain English, man," said the Queen. "The Lady
+Rebecca hath no Italian."
+
+Messer Guido bowed and began again, speaking with a scarcely perceptible
+accent.
+
+"Most Excellent Majesty, I have but begun perusal of this document. It
+promiseth matter for ten good years' research in the comparison of
+parts, interpretation of phrases, identifying customs, manners, dress,
+and the like."
+
+"Nay, then," said the Queen, "with the help of the Lady Rebecca, 'twill
+be no weighty task, methinks. My lady, why partake you not of the
+pasty?" she said, turning to Rebecca. "Hath it not a very proper savor?"
+
+"My, yes," Rebecca replied; "it's mighty good pie! Somehow, though, pie
+don't lay very good with me these days. Ye don't happen to have any tea,
+do ye?"
+
+"Tea!"
+
+"If I may venture--" said Guido, eagerly.
+
+"Speak, Messer Guido."
+
+"Why, it would appear, your Majesty, that tea is a sort of stuff for
+dresses--silk, belike."
+
+"Stuff for dresses!" said Rebecca. "Stuff and nonsense! Why, tea's a
+drink!"
+
+"A beverage! Then how explain you this?" the Italian cried,
+triumphantly. Lifting the newspaper, he read from it the following
+passage: "The illustration shows a charming tea-gown, a creation of Mme.
+Decollete."
+
+"You see, Maesta--your Majesty--it is clear. A 'tea-gown' is shown in
+the drawing--a gown made of tea."
+
+Rebecca had opened her mouth to overwhelm the poor savant with the truth
+when a page entered and stood before the Queen.
+
+"Well, sirrah," said Elizabeth, "what is your message?"
+
+"Sir Percevall Hart craves an audience, your Majesty, for himself and
+his American friend and client."
+
+"Another American!" exclaimed the Queen.
+
+"Copernicus Droop!" cried Rebecca.
+
+"Know you Sir Percevall's friend, Lady Rebecca?" asked Elizabeth.
+
+"Why, yes, your Majesty. He and I came over together from Peltonville. I
+believe he's after a patent."
+
+"A patent? What mean you? Doth he ask for a patent of nobility--a title?
+Can this be the suit of the fat knight?"
+
+"I don't know," said Rebecca. "'Tain't nothin' 'bout nobility, I'm sure,
+though. It's a patent on a phonograph, I b'lieve."
+
+"Know you aught of this, my lord?" said Elizabeth, turning to Burleigh.
+
+"Why, yes, your Majesty. I have to-day received from Sir Percevall Hart
+a letter written by my nephew, Francis Bacon----"
+
+"Bacon! What! Ay--methinks we know somewhat of this same Francis," said
+the Queen, grimly. "A member of Parliament, is he not?"
+
+"Even so, your Majesty," said Burleigh, somewhat crestfallen. "From this
+letter I learn," he continued, while Elizabeth shook her head, "that
+this American--a Master Dupe, I believe----"
+
+"No--no--Droop!" cried Rebecca. "Copernicus Droop."
+
+The baron bowed.
+
+"That this Master Droop desires the grant of a monopoly in----"
+
+"A monopoly!" cried Elizabeth. "What! This independent young
+barrister--this parliamentary meddler in opposition, forsooth! He
+craveth a monopoly? God's death! A monopoly in all the impudence in this
+our realm is of a surety this fellow's right! We grant it--we grant it.
+Let the papers be drawn forthwith!"
+
+The baron bent before the storm and, bowing, remained silent. Rebecca,
+however, could scarce see the justice of the Queen's position.
+
+"Well, but look here, your Majesty," she said. "'Tain't Mr. Bacon as
+wants this patent; it's Mr. Droop. Mr. Bacon only gave him a letter to
+Mr. Burleigh here."
+
+Astonishment was depicted in every face save in that of the Queen, whose
+little eyes were now turned upon her sister sovereign in anger.
+
+"Harkye, Lady Rebecca!" she exclaimed. "Is it the custom to take the
+Queen to task in your realm?"
+
+Rebecca's reply came pat. The type was prepared beforehand, and she
+answered now with a clear conscience.
+
+"Why, of course. We talk jest as we feel like to all the queens there is
+in my country."
+
+The equivocation in this reply must have struck the Queen, for she
+said, without taking her eyes from Rebecca's face:
+
+"And, prithee, Lady Rebecca, how many queens be there in America? We
+begin to doubt if royalty be known there."
+
+Again Messer Guido evinced signs of an anxious desire to speak, and
+Rebecca shrewdly took advantage of this at once.
+
+"Messer Guido can tell you all 'bout that, I guess," she said.
+
+Elizabeth turned her eyes to the savant.
+
+"What knowledge have you of this, learned doctor?" she asked, coldly.
+
+"Why, your Majesty," said Guido, with delighted zeal, "the case is
+plain. Will your Majesty but look at this drawing on one of the inner
+pages of the printed document brought by the Lady Rebecca? Behold the
+effigy of a powder canister, with the words 'Royal Baking Powder'
+thereon. This would appear evidence that in America gunpowder is known
+and is used by the sovereigns of the various tribes. Here again we see
+'The Royal Corset,' and there 'Crown Shirts.' Can it be doubted that the
+Americans have royal governors?"
+
+The Queen's face cleared a little at this, and Guido proceeded with
+increased animation:
+
+"Behold further upon the front page, your Majesty, the effigy of a man
+wearing a round crown with a peak or projecting shelf over the eyes.
+Under this we read the legend 'The Czar of the Tenderloin.' Now, your
+Majesty will remember that the ruler of Muscovy is termed the Czar. The
+Tenderloin signifieth, doubtless, some order, akin, perchance, to the
+Garter."
+
+"This hath a plausible bent, Messer Guido," said Elizabeth, with more
+good-nature. "Lady Rebecca, can you better explain this matter of the
+Czar?"
+
+"No, indeed," Rebecca replied, with perfect truth. "Mister Guido must
+have a fine mind to understand things like that!"
+
+"In sooth, good Messer Guido," said Elizabeth, with a smile, "your
+research and power of logic do you great credit. We doubt not to learn
+more of these new empires from your learned pains than ever from
+Raleigh, Drake, and the other travellers whose dull wits go but to the
+surface of things. But, Lord warrant us!" she continued, "here standeth
+our page, having as yet no answer. Go, sirrah, and bid Sir Percevall and
+this great American to our presence straight."
+
+Then, turning again to Guido, she said:
+
+"Messer Guido, we enjoin it upon your learning that you do make a note
+of the petition of this American, as well as of those things which he
+may answer in explanation of his design."
+
+With a bow, Guido stepped to one side and, carefully folding the
+newspaper, drew from his bosom his tablets and prepared to obey.
+
+All eyes turned curiously to the door as it opened to admit the two
+suitors, who were followed by the page. Sir Percevall, with plumed hat
+in one hand and sword hilt in the other, advanced ponderously, bowing
+low at every other step. Droop hurriedly deposited his two boxes upon
+the floor and followed his monitor, closely imitating his every step and
+gesture. Having no sword, he thought it best to put his left hand into
+his bosom, an attitude which he recollected in a picture of Daniel
+Webster.
+
+The fat knight was about to kneel to kiss the royal hand, but Elizabeth,
+smiling, detained him.
+
+"Nay, nay!" she said. "You, Sir Percevall, have paid your debt of homage
+in advance for a twelvemonth. He who kisses the dust at our feet hath
+knelt for ten." Then, turning to Droop, who was down on both knees, with
+his hand still in his breast: "What now!" she exclaimed. "Hath your hand
+suffered some mischance, Sir American, that you hide it in your bosom?"
+
+"Not a mite--not a mite!" Droop stuttered, quickly extending the member
+in question. "Nay, your Majesty--in sooth, no--my hand beeth all right!"
+
+"We learn from the Lord Treasurer," said Elizabeth, addressing Sir
+Percevall, "that your petition hath reference to a monopoly. Know you
+not, Sir Knight, that these be parlous days for making of new
+monopolies? Our subjects murmur, and 'tis said that we have already been
+too generous with these great gifts. Have you considered of this?"
+
+"My liege," said Sir Percevall, "these things have we considered. Nor
+would we tempt this awful Presence with petitions looking to tax further
+the public patience. But, please your Majesty, Master Droop, my client
+here," indicating the still kneeling man with a sweeping gesture, "hath
+brought into being an instrument, or rather two instruments, of
+marvellous fashion and of powers strange. Of these your Majesty's
+subjects have had hitherto no knowledge, and it is in the making and
+selling of these within this realm that we do here crave a right of
+monopoly under the Great Seal."
+
+"Excuse me, forsooth, your Majesty," Droop broke in, "but would thou
+mind if I get up, my liege?"
+
+"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?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Well, did you ever!" murmured Rebecca, amazed at this impudent claim to
+invention.
+
+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.
+
+"Now, the bicycle--or the bike, fer short--is a kind of a wagon or
+vehycle, you wot. When you mount on it, you can trundle yerself along
+like all possessed----"
+
+"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."
+
+As Droop opened his mouth to reply, Guido stepped forward with a great
+rustling of paper.
+
+"May it please your Gracious Majesty--" he panted, eagerly.
+
+"Speak, Messer Guido."
+
+"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.
+
+"You may proceed, sir," said Elizabeth.
+
+"Why, Master Droop, you that are the inventor of this same 'bicycle,'
+how explain you this?"
+
+He thrust the paper under Droop's nose, pointing to an advertisement
+therein.
+
+"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, "as early as April--" he stopped, turned pale,
+and choked. Droop looked mildly triumphant.
+
+"Well--well!" cried Elizabeth, "hast lost thy voice, man?"
+
+"My liege," murmured the bewildered savant, "the date--this
+document----"
+
+"Is dated in 1898," said Droop, solemnly. "This here bike and phonograph
+won't be invented by anyone else for three hundred years yet."
+
+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:
+
+"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----"
+
+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.
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+"What may that be, Sir Percevall?" the Queen inquired at length,
+settling back in her chair as comfortably as her ruff would permit.
+
+"This, my liege, is the phonograph," said the knight, straightening
+himself proudly.
+
+"An my Greek be not at fault," said the Queen, "this name should purport
+a writer of sound."
+
+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.
+
+"Hath your invention this intent, Master Droop?" she said.
+
+"Verily, I guess you've hit it--I wot that's right!" stammered the still
+frightened man.
+
+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.
+
+"The conceit is very novel, is it not, my lord?" she said, turning to
+Baron Burleigh.
+
+"Novel, indeed, and passing marvellous if achieved, your Majesty," was
+the suave reply.
+
+"How write you sounds with this device, Master Droop?" she asked.
+
+"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!"
+
+Conscious of the lameness of this explanation, Droop hurried on, hoping
+to forestall further questions.
+
+"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.
+
+"Marry, you wouldn't mind ef I was to set this right here on your
+table, would ye, my liege?" he asked.
+
+Permission was graciously accorded, and, depositing the phonograph,
+Droop hurried back to get his records. Holding a wax cylinder in one
+hand, he proceeded.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Nay, the title is not familiar," said the Queen, looking about her.
+With one accord, the courtiers shook their heads in corroboration.
+
+"Is that so? Well, well! Why, every boy and gal in America knows that
+tune well!" said Droop.
+
+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:
+
+"Home, Sweet Home--Cornet Solo--By Signor Paolo Morituri--Edison
+Record."
+
+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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Oh, dear me, yes!" said Rebecca, somewhat contemptuously. "Copernicus
+Droop ain't nobody in America."
+
+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.
+
+"Now, your Majesty," said he, "here's a comic monologue. I tell you,
+verily, it's a side-splitter!"
+
+"What may a side-splitter be, Master Droop?"
+
+"Why, in sooth, somethin' almighty funny, you know--make a feller laugh,
+you wot."
+
+Elizabeth nodded and, with a smile of anticipation, which was copied by
+all present, prepared to be amused.
+
+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.
+
+"Marry, sir," said Elizabeth, when the monologue 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?"
+
+"Nothin' on airth!" was the reply. "Only a word now an' then about a
+farmer--an' somethin' about hayseed."
+
+"Now, here's a reg'lar bird!" said Droop, hastily, as he put in a new
+cylinder.
+
+"Can you thus record e'en the voices of fowls?" said the Queen, with
+renewed interest.
+
+Hopeless of explaining, Droop bowed and touched the starting-button. The
+announcement came at once.
+
+"Liberty Bells March--Edison Record," and after a few preliminary
+flourishes, a large brass band could be heard in full career.
+
+This proved far more pleasing to the Queen and her suite.
+
+"So God mend us, a merry tune and full of harmony!" said the Queen.
+
+"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.
+
+The Queen's eager interest had been so aroused that she was unconscious
+of his too familiar manner. 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."
+
+"Oh, say the Declaration of Independence or the 'Charge of the Light
+Brigade'!" Droop exclaimed. "Any o' them things in the school-books!"
+
+Elizabeth saw that the empty cylinder was passing uselessly and wasted
+no time in discussion, but began to declaim some verses of Horace.
+
+"M--m--m--" exclaimed Droop, doubtfully. "I don't know as this
+phonograph will work on Latin an' Greek!"
+
+The Queen completed her quotation and, sitting back again in her chair:
+
+"Now, Master Droop, we have done our part," she said.
+
+Droop readjusted the repeating diaphragm and started the motor once
+more. There were two or three squeaks and then an affected little
+chuckle.
+
+"What shall we say?" it began. "Weighty words should grace so great an
+occasion, my lords."
+
+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.
+
+"Can any voice be so repeated?" she asked, seriously, when this record
+was completed.
+
+"Anyone ye please--any ye please!" said the delighted promoter, visions
+of uncounted wealth dancing 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."
+
+The cylinder was that before which Phoebe 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.
+
+All too exactly the fateful mechanism ground out the very words and
+voice of Phoebe:
+
+
+"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."
+
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!
+
+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 spasmodic changes that swept over
+the pale red-painted face.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+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.
+
+As he emerged into the yard a sentry tried to stop him, but, with a
+single side spring, the Yankee eluded this danger and flung himself
+upon his bicycle, which he found leaning against the palace wall.
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+HOW REBECCA RETURNED TO NEWINGTON
+
+
+Within the palace all was confusion and dismay. 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.
+
+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 Phoebe and herself?
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+This was a new idea to Elizabeth, who had destroyed, as she supposed,
+the only existing specimen of the malignant instrument.
+
+With a gesture she sent her attendants to the opposite end of the room.
+
+"Now speak, woman! What would you counsel?" she said.
+
+"Why, this," said Rebecca, hurriedly. "You don't want any more o' them
+things talkin' all over London, I'm sure."
+
+A groan that was half a growl broke from the sorely tried sovereign.
+
+"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."
+
+"You speak truly, Lady Rebecca," said the Queen. "How would you go--by
+what conveyance? Will you have horses--men-at-arms?"
+
+"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----"
+
+"A carryall--a buggy!" Elizabeth broke in. "What may these be?"
+
+"Oh, any kind of a carriage, you know, 'cause I'll hev to ride some
+distance into the country."
+
+"But why such haste?" asked the Queen. "Had this American a horse?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Your wit is nimble and methinks most sound," said the Queen,
+decisively. Then, turning to the group of ladies, she continued:
+
+"Send us our chamberlain, my Lady Temple, and delay not, we charge you!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+She stood up and strained her eyes through the darkness, trying to see
+the laboring forms of the 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.
+
+"Air ye goin' as fast as ye can?" she called. "Mr. Droop'll get there
+fust ef ye ain't real spry."
+
+"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!"
+
+"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.
+
+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.
+
+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. It was the watch, and the light shone
+from a primitive lantern with sides of horn scraped thin.
+
+"Who goes there?" cried a gruff voice.
+
+"The Queen's barge--in the service of her Majesty," was the reply.
+
+The watchman who carried the lantern satisfied himself that this account
+was correct, and then asked if he could be of service.
+
+"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?"
+
+There was a long pause as the watchman sought to comprehend this
+extraordinary question.
+
+"Come--come!" cried the officer, who had remained on the boat. "Canst
+not say yes or no, man?"
+
+"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."
+
+"Well--well!" said he who had landed. "Go you now straight and stand at
+the bridge head. We shall follow anon."
+
+The watch moved slowly away and Rebecca was helped ashore by the last
+speaker.
+
+"Our speed hath brought us hither in advance, my lady," he said. "Now
+shall we doubtless come in before the fugitive."
+
+"Well, I hope so!" said Rebecca. Then, with a smothered cry: "Oh, Land
+o' Goshen! I've dropped my umbrella!"
+
+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.
+
+"I declare, ain't this provokin'!" Rebecca cried, at length.
+
+"These beams and blocks impede us," said the officer. "We must have
+light, perforce. Ho there! The watch, ho! Bring your lanthorn!"
+
+"Why, 'tain't worth while to trouble the watchman," said Rebecca. "I'll
+jest strike a light myself."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Cast off--cast off!" he screamed. "Give way, lads, in God's name! A
+witch--a witch! Cast off!"
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+"Well, if I ever!" she exclaimed. "I'm blest ef I don't b'lieve those
+ninnies was scared at a match!"
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"If Copernicus Droop ketches up with me," she muttered, "I'll make him
+stop ef I hev to poke my umbrella in his spokes."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+HOW SIR GUY KEPT HIS TRYST
+
+
+For one hour before sunset of that same day Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"Nothing--no one yet!" she murmured. "Oh, Guy, if not for love, could
+you not haste for life!"
+
+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 and bore down upon her.
+
+One glance was enough to show her that Guy was not one of the group, and
+Phoebe 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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"My life on it, Will," said one, "'twas here the wench took cover!"
+
+"Thine eyes are dusty, Jack," replied a deep voice. "'Twas farther on,
+was it not, Harry?"
+
+The horses stopped.
+
+"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."
+
+"Nay--nay!" said Will. "Count upon it, Jack, the maid fled beyond the
+turn yonder. Come on, lads!"
+
+"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."
+
+"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."
+
+"Have it so!" said Will.
+
+Phoebe heard the three dismount and, trembling with apprehension,
+listened anxiously for knowledge of what she dared not seek to see.
+
+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.
+
+This was the most agonizing moment of that eventful night for Phoebe.
+Strain her ears as she might, naught could she hear but the shake of a
+bridle, the 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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?
+
+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.
+
+"'Tis that or nothing!" she whispered, and, still under cover of the
+shrubbery, she hurried toward the rubbish heap.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+Jack uttered a loud exclamation of triumph and leaped toward the
+thicket. Poor Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+When her pursuer reached the thicket, he was confounded to find no one
+in sight.
+
+Phoebe 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. At any moment the man she feared might appear again at the
+opening in the wall.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+Unfortunately, Phoebe 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 feet could not reach them
+and she could only kick them flapping back against the horse's sides.
+
+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.
+
+Phoebe 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Mary!" he cried.
+
+Together they reined in their horses, and instantly Phoebe slipped to
+the ground.
+
+"Quick, Guy--quick!" she exclaimed. "Help me to mount yon saddle.
+Come--come!"
+
+Leaping at once from his horse, Sir Guy lifted Phoebe 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 Phoebe, who had
+already set off at her best speed. Even as they started, they heard a
+shout behind them, and Phoebe knew that the pursuit had begun in
+earnest.
+
+"What is it--who are they whom you flee?" asked the young knight, as he
+came to Phoebe's side.
+
+"Men seeking thee, Guy--for reward! There is a price on thy head, dear.
+For high treason! Oh, may God aid us this night!"
+
+"High treason!" he exclaimed. Then, after a pause, he continued, in a
+stern voice:
+
+"How many be they?"
+
+"Two."
+
+Sir Guy laughed in evident relief.
+
+"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!"
+
+"Alas--alas!" cried Phoebe, 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 fighting two? Nay,
+on--on!" and she spurred again, beckoning him after with an imperious
+hand.
+
+He yielded to her reasoning, and soon reached her side again.
+
+"We must to London Bridge, Guy," Phoebe said. "Know you a way back
+thither?"
+
+"Wherefore to London, sweet?" asked Guy. "Were we not safer far afield?
+Why seek the shadow of the Tower?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"On, my Mary!" he cried, gayly. "Lead on! Thou art my star!"
+
+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.
+
+Then came that pursuing shout again, much nearer than before, and with a
+shock the two lovers remembered their true plight.
+
+Sir Guy reined in his steed.
+
+"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."
+
+Obedient now in her turn, Phoebe drew rein and 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.
+
+"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."
+
+Darkness had now begun to fall in earnest, and as the two fugitives
+passed the Peacock Inn, no one saw them.
+
+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.
+
+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!"
+
+"Good-even!" said Phoebe, thinking only of due courtesy.
+
+"What the good jere!" cried a voice from the rear of the group. "What
+dost thou here, Poll?"
+
+"My father!" exclaimed Phoebe, in terror.
+
+"Hush!" whispered Sir Guy, putting his hand upon her bridle. "Ride
+forward at an easy gait until I give example of haste."
+
+They trotted quietly past the greater number of the group until a dark
+figure approached and a voice in the gloom said, severely:
+
+"What dost thou here? Who rides with thee, lass?"
+
+Sir Guy now leaned forward and spurred his horse, leaping away into the
+darkness without a word. In equal silence Phoebe followed his example
+and galloped headlong close behind her lover.
+
+"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.
+
+"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."
+
+"'Twere better, were it not," Phoebe suggested, "that we turn to the
+left and make a circuit into the Aldersgate?"
+
+"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!"
+
+"Stuff!" said Phoebe, spurring again, with a smile.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"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."
+
+The suggestion was adopted, and, all unconscious of their peril, the
+lovers were rapidly hemmed in between two bands of pursuers. Sir Guy and
+Phoebe 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.
+
+"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?"
+
+"Yes," said Phoebe. "I pray no prying watch detain us ere we pass that
+way!"
+
+Picking their way through the dark and narrow streets at a pace
+necessarily much reduced, they slowly approached their goal, until at
+length, on emerging into New Fish Street, they discerned the towering
+walls of London Bridge.
+
+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.
+
+"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!"
+
+Sir Guy drew his sword.
+
+"'Tis time for steel to answer!" he laughed.
+
+"Nay--nay! Wait--wait!" said Phoebe, earnestly. "There must be other
+issue than in blood!"
+
+Two or three horsemen now detached themselves from the group near the
+bridge and cantered up New Fish Street. Sir Isaac was among them.
+
+"Are ye there, traitor?" he cried. "Where is my daughter?"
+
+Sir Guy was about to reply when Phoebe put her hand on his arm.
+
+"Hush!" she whispered. "Hearken!"
+
+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.
+
+"Now, what in God's name--" he began.
+
+But he broke off in horror, for there flashed past 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.
+
+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.
+
+"Forward!" cried Phoebe, 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.
+
+But her lover did not move, and she was obliged to turn back. Laying her
+hand on his arm:
+
+"Why, what ails thee, dear heart?" she asked.
+
+"The spectre--the ghostly steed!" he stammered.
+
+"Oh--oh!" laughed Phoebe. "Why, this was but some venturous bicyclist
+on his wheel!"
+
+"A bicyclist!" exclaimed Sir Guy. "Can you thus give a name to this
+black phantom, Mary?"
+
+"'Tis naught, dear Guy, believe me!" she said. Then, in pleading tones,
+she continued: "Didst not agree to trust thy lady, dear?"
+
+The young knight passed his hand over his eyes and straightened himself
+resolutely in his saddle.
+
+"E'en to the death, love. Lead on! I shall not falter!"
+
+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 Phoebe would smile into the eyes of her still
+much-puzzled lover and murmur words of encouragement.
+
+Before they reached Southwark, there rang out behind them the sound of
+hoofs upon the stones of the bridge.
+
+"Can these be your father's minions, think you?" said Sir Guy.
+
+"Nay!" Phoebe exclaimed. "Rest assured, they were scattered too far to
+dog our steps again to-night."
+
+They emerged some moments later on the Southwark side and saw the
+pillory towering ahead of them.
+
+"How far shall we fare to-night, love?" asked the knight.
+
+"To Newington on horseback," Phoebe replied, "and then--well, then
+shalt thou see more faring."
+
+There was a loud cry from the bridge, startling the pair from their
+fancied security.
+
+"There they ride! The watch, ho! Stop the traitor! Stop him! For the
+Queen! For the Queen!"
+
+"God help us!" cried Phoebe. "'Tis the two yeomen of the Peacock Inn!"
+
+With one accord the pair clapped spurs to their horses' sides and
+resumed once more the flight which they had thought concluded.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+REBECCA'S TRUMP CARD
+
+
+When Rebecca set out for the Panchronicon from 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?
+
+"Look here, Rebecca Wise," she said, aloud, as she paused in the middle
+of the road, "you'll be lost next you know!"
+
+She looked about dubiously and shook her head.
+
+"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.
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+"Darn the luck!" said this dark figure. "Busted my tire, sure as
+shootin'!"
+
+"Copernicus Droop!" cried Rebecca, in a loud voice.
+
+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.
+
+"How in creation did you get here?" he asked. "Ain't any steam-cars
+'round here, is there?"
+
+"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' Phoebe to shift fer ourselves.' So I'm
+here to go, too--an' what's more, we've got to take Phoebe!"
+
+"How'll ye find yer sister, Cousin Rebecca?" said Droop. "We must git
+out to-night. When the Queen gets on her ear like that, it's now or
+never. Can you find Cousin Phoebe to-night?"
+
+"Where is the old machine, anyhow?" Rebecca asked, not heeding Droop's
+question.
+
+"Right over yonder," said he, pointing to a dark group of trees a few
+rods distant.
+
+"Well, come on, then. Let's go to it right away," said Rebecca. "I'd
+like to rest a bit. I'm tired!"
+
+"Tired!" Droop exclaimed. "What about me, then?"
+
+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.
+
+Under the trees, the shadows were so black that they were unable to find
+the breach in the wall.
+
+"Got any matches, Cousin Rebecca?" Droop asked.
+
+"Yes. Wait a minute an' I'll strike a light. I know that blessed hole is
+somewhere right near here."
+
+She found again her card of matches, and breaking off one of them, soon
+had a tiny taper which lit up their surroundings wonderfully.
+
+"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.
+
+Droop was about to suggest that he go in first to see if all was well,
+when he was startled by Rebecca's hand on his arm.
+
+"Hark!" she cried.
+
+He listened and distant cries coming nearer through the night were borne
+to his ears.
+
+"What's that?" Rebecca exclaimed again.
+
+Rigid with excitement and dread, they stood there listening. At length
+Droop pulled himself free of Rebecca's hold.
+
+"That's some o' them palace folks chasin' after me!" he cried, in a
+panic.
+
+"Fiddle-dee-dee!" Rebecca exclaimed, with energy. "How should they know
+where you are?"
+
+By this time the sounds were more distinct, and they could easily make
+out cries of: "Traitor! Stop him! For the Queen! Stop him!"
+
+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 Phoebe's voice, loud above all other sounds.
+
+"Nay--nay, Guy!" she was screaming. "Stop not to fight! Fly--follow!
+Shelter is here at hand!"
+
+Forgetting everything but possible danger for Phoebe, Rebecca dashed
+out from under the trees.
+
+There in the moonlight she saw Phoebe 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 mingled horse and foot travellers.
+There was a lantern among them, and Rebecca inferred that the watch was
+with them.
+
+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.
+
+Rebecca ran forward and waved her card of matches frantically,
+apparently thinking in her excitement that she held a flag.
+
+"Here, Phoebe--here, child!" she screamed. "This way, quick! Here we
+are awaitin' fer ye. Come, quick--quick!"
+
+With a loud cry of joy, Phoebe slipped from her horse and ran toward
+her sister.
+
+"Oh, Rebecca, Rebecca!" she cried, throwing herself into her sister's
+arms. "Oh, you dear, lovely, sweet old darling!"
+
+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.
+
+While they stood thus tightly locked in each other's arms, Guy came to
+their side with sword in hand.
+
+"Quick!" he said, sharply. "You must away to shelter. Here comes the
+watch apace. I will protect the rear."
+
+The two women started apart and Phoebe set forward obediently, but
+Rebecca only gave the fast-approaching crowd a look of proud contempt.
+
+"Fiddle-ends!" she exclaimed. "You go on ahead, Guy. I'll fix them queer
+folks!"
+
+Whether Rebecca's voice convinced him of her power to make good her
+words or that he felt his first duty was at Phoebe'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.
+
+Droop had already passed within the enclosure and was groping his way
+toward the black mass of the Panchronicon.
+
+Phoebe, 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.
+
+Phoebe 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:
+
+"Here--this way! We have 'em fast!"
+
+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.
+
+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 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+"Why, Mary!" he exclaimed, pausing in his walk. "What have we here?"
+
+She took his hand with a smile and drew him gently forward.
+
+"Trust thy Mary yet further, Guy," she said. "Thy watchword must be,
+'Trust and question not.'"
+
+He smiled in reply and, sheathing his sword, stepped boldly forward into
+the interior of the Panchronicon. Phoebe 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.
+
+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 Phoebe put one arm about his neck and drew his
+head down to hers, whispering in his 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.
+
+Droop stood nervously waiting at the engine-room door.
+
+"Are ye all in?" he said, sharply. "Where's Cousin Rebecca?"
+
+"Here I be!" came a voice from below. "I'm jest lockin' the door tight."
+
+"Well, hurry up--hurry! Come up here an' lay down. I'm goin' to start."
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+The two women screamed, but Droop only dropped amazed into a chair.
+
+"Francis Bacon!" he exclaimed.
+
+Then, leaping forward eagerly, he cried aloud:
+
+"Gimme them clothes!"
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+Of the return trip of the five, little need be said save to record one
+untoward incident which has been the occasion of a most unfortunate
+historic controversy.
+
+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.
+
+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 Phoebe
+known the result of this desertion, she would never have consented to
+it.
+
+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.
+
+Copernicus Droop, on returning his three remaining passengers to their
+proper dates and addresses, discovered that his sole remaining
+phonograph, with 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.
+
+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.
+
+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.
+
+It is not generally known that, contrary to common report, Francis Bacon
+was _not_ 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.
+
+                   *       *       *       *       *
+
+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 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.
+
+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."
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Panchronicon, by Harold Steele Mackaye
+
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