But as Elizabeth came slowly down the hall, her white silk gown fronted with great pearls flashing back the light, a marchioness bearing the train, the crown on her head glittering as she turned from right to left, her wonderful collar of jewels sparkling on her uncovered bosom, suddenly the mantle of black, silver-shotted silk upon her shoulders became to Lemprière’s heated senses a judge’s robe, and Elizabeth the august judge of the world. His eyes blinded again, for it was as if she were bearing down upon him. Certainly she was looking at him now, scarce heeding the courtiers who fell to their knees on either side as she came on. The red doublets of the fifty Gentlemen Pensioners--all men of noble families proud to do this humble yet distinguished service--with battle-axes, on either side of her, seemed to Lemprière on the instant like an army with banners threatening him. From the antechapel behind him came the cry of the faithful subjects who, as the gentlemen-at-arms fell back from the doorway, had but just caught a glimpse of her Majesty--“Long live Elizabeth!” It seemed to Lemprière that the Gentlemen Pensioners must beat him down as they passed, yet he stood riveted to the spot. And, indeed, it was true that he was almost in the path of her Majesty. He was aware that two gentlemen touched him on the shoulder and bade him retire; but the Queen motioned to them to desist. So, with the eyes of the whole court on him again, and Elizabeth’s calm, curious gaze fixed, as it were, on his forehead, he stood still till the flaming Gentlemen Pensioners were within a few feet of him and the battle-axes were almost over his head. The great braggart was no better now than a wisp of grass in the wind, and it was more than homage that bent him to his knees as the Queen looked him full in the eyes. There was a moment’s absolute silence, and then she said, with cold condescension: “By what privilege do you seek our presence?” “I am Raoul Lemprière, Seigneur of Rozel, your high Majesty,” said the choking voice of the Jerseyman. The Queen raised her eyebrows. “The man seems French. You come from France?” Lemprière flushed to his hair--the Queen did not know him, then! “From Jersey Isle, your sacred Majesty.” “Jersey Isle is dear to us. And what is your warrant here?” “I am butler to your Majesty, by your gracious Majesty’s patent, and I alone may have dove-cotes in the isle; and I only may have the perquage--on your Majesty’s patent. It is not even held by De Carteret of St. Ouen’s.” The Queen smiled as she had not smiled since she entered the presence-chamber. “God preserve us,” she said, “that I should not have recognized you! It is, of course, our faithful Lemprière of Rozel.”