“This cloak,” said the youth, taking it up and folding it, “shall never be brushed while in my possession.”
“And that will not be long, if you learn not a little more economy; we shall have you in CUERPO soon, as the Spaniard says.”
Their discourse was here interrupted by one of the band of Pensioners.
“I was sent,” said he, after looking at them attentively, “to a gentleman who hath no cloak, or a muddy one.—You, sir, I think,” addressing the younger cavalier, “are the man; you will please to follow me.”
“He is in attendance on me,” said Blount—“on me, the noble Earl of Sussex's master of horse.”
“I have nothing to say to that,” answered the messenger; “my orders are directly from her Majesty, and concern this gentleman only.”
So saying, he walked away, followed by Walter, leaving the others behind, Blount's eyes almost starting from his head with the excess of his astonishment. At length he gave vent to it in an exclamation, “Who the good jere would have thought this!” And shaking his head with a mysterious air, he walked to his own boat, embarked, and returned to Deptford.
The young cavalier was in the meanwhile guided to the water-side by the Pensioner, who showed him considerable respect; a circumstance which, to persons in his situation, may be considered as an augury of no small consequence. He ushered him into one of the wherries which lay ready to attend the Queen's barge, which was already proceeding; up the river, with the advantage of that flood-tide of which, in the course of their descent, Blount had complained to his associates.
The two rowers used their oars with such expedition at the signal of the Gentleman Pensioner, that they very soon brought their little skiff under the stern of the Queen's boat, where she sat beneath an awning, attended by two or three ladies, and the nobles of her household. She looked more than once at the wherry in which the young adventurer was seated, spoke to those around her, and seemed to laugh. At length one of the attendants, by the Queen's order apparently, made a sign for the wherry to come alongside, and the young man was desired to step from his own skiff into the Queen's barge, which he performed with graceful agility at the fore part of the boat, and was brought aft to the Queen's presence, the wherry at the same time dropping into the rear. The youth underwent the gaze of Majesty, not the less gracefully that his self-possession was mingled with embarrassment. The muddied cloak still hung upon his arm, and formed the natural topic with which the Queen introduced the conversation.
“You have this day spoiled a gay mantle in our behalf, young man. We thank you for your service, though the manner of offering it was unusual, and something bold.”