He had not long to wait before a vast blare of horns announced the Queen’s coming. She was preceded by a great company of halberdiers, on whose heels followed a band of drummers and trumpeters, a little army in number, from whose hundreds of instruments arose--for Her Majesty liked her music strong--a shattering din which tore the very air into tatters. Thereafter appeared a company of morris dancers, men and girls, in full beribboned panoply--Maid Marian, Morisco, Franciscan friar and the lot--all reeling and capering and intertwining as they flowed on with the procession, of which the very next instalment was Her Grace herself, a gorgeous idol in a gorgeous palanquin, borne on the shoulders of six high gentlemen of the Court, and smiling on her good people as she passed. Before the litter walked my Lord Hunsdon, carrying the sword of State, and beside and behind it thronged an immense train of lords and ladies on foot, every one bareheaded and resplendent in velvet and satin and flashing jewels. To these again succeeded soldiers, a full thousand of them and divided into companies, between which came rumbling behind their prancing teams no less than ten great pieces of ordnance, whose purpose was peaceful display, while, to finish all, a couple of great white bears in shining collars, ten keepers holding by gilded chains to each collar, shuffled out the climax, their heads hanging, their red tongues lolling, their eyes smouldering helpless animosity. It was a stupendous exhibition; yet Brion found himself wondering what connexion it could possibly have with the pious object which had evoked it. Perhaps the morris dancers might have found precedent in the dance of David before the Ark; but what of the cannon and the bears? There was nothing of ritual about them. He was forced to the conclusion that when Her Majesty had a mind for an impressive display of herself--which was not infrequently the case--the nearest pretext was made to serve her purpose. Well, he watched it all go by, and without distinguishing amid the glittering mob the person of him he least desired to look on; and, being satisfied with what he had seen, extricated himself from the crowd, and turned into one of the side lanes which led down to the river. He had hardly entered it, when he heard himself accosted from behind, and turned to see a breathless stranger addressing him. ‘Master Middleton, if I may venture the surmise?’ He was sallow and lank-featured, with an air of such nervous hurry about him that his voice shook in putting the question. He wore a dark cloak huddled about his shoulders, as if he were cold, and the slouch of his hat barely allowed his eyes to be seen. Brion bowed, wondering.