tactful arrangement the Protestant members of her new
household, together with Lord Sandwich, were invited
to stroll in the shady cloisters while Mass proceeded.
The service over, the royal party went back to the coach, and the procession went on again. Their way to the quay was through streets hung with silks and damasks and cloth of gold, that shone and flashed in the broad sunlight. Here and there were statues of Catherine and Charles, robed in priceless clothes, and the whole city rioted in joy and triumph.
At the water side the royal coach alone entered the docks by a garden near at hand, where a door was opened for it. Every one else had to alight and make their way through another door of the same garden to a pier brilliantly adorned with flags and pennons, which jutted into the water. All those who had escorted Catherine so far now kissed her hand with every expression of reverence. When they would have offered the same salute to Alphonzo, he refused it, not wishing to detract in any way from Catherine's sole possession of the glories of the day.
Out in the bay—that lovely bay of Lisbon—lay the fleet that had come for Catherine. There were fourteen men-of-war, amongst which the Admiral's ship, the Royal Charles, and the Vice-Admiral's, the Gloucester, were the finest and largest. The Montague carried the Queen's outfit. On board three of the smaller ships were the thousand boxes of sugar that were part of the meanly substituted dower. The three-deckers were all flying the English standard. The Royal Charles had the royal ensign. At the quay or pier lay a splendidly appointed barge with the Portuguese royal standard flying above it. Her brothers assisted Catherine to enter it, and she stepped in sedately, the queer feather in her hair fluttering in the breeze. Her ladies stood about in their great farthingales, also wearing the Court feather and carrying fans, which they used as parasols, when the sun became inconvenient.
