“Gate, ho!” cried the horseman in a louder voice.
“Somebody there?” asked the gatekeeper in a very sleepy voice. “Tarry a minute, will you? I’ll be with you anon.”
“Tarry!” repeated the horseman with a contemptuous laugh. “Thou’d not want me to tarry if thou knewest what news I bring.”
“Good tidings, eh? let’s have ’em!” said the gatekeeper in a brisker voice.
“Take them. ‘God save the Queen!’”
“Call that tidings? We’ve sung that this five year.”
“Nay you’ve never sung it yet—not as you will. How if it be ‘God save Queen Elizabeth’?”
The gate was dashed open in the unsleepiest way that ever gate was moved.
“You never mean—is the Queen departed?”
“Queen Mary is gone to her reward,” replied the horseman gravely. “God save Queen Elizabeth!”