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.