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.