“Is everything ready?” asked Viazimski, looking round.
“Everything is ready,” answered the Commandantsha,[47] trembling and bowing in her rustling farthingale.
“Be so good as …” said the Prince Viazimski to the priest.
They all went into the next room, where candles in the tall silver candlesticks had already been lighted. Between them stood a font, and near it a woman, commonly dressed, and holding in her arms something wrapped in white.
“Begin, Holy Father,” said Viazimski, pointing to the font and to what the woman held.
Father Peter put on his vestments, took the censer from the hands of Tchernishoff, opened the Prayer-Book, and began the ceremony.
The sponsors were the finely dressed, affected wife of the commandant, and the général procureur himself.
They gave the newly christened babe the name of Alexander. The ceremony was finished; the commandantsha, with the babe in her arms, continued turning and twisting about, trying with her airs and graces to attract the attention of the général procureur to herself and her rustling silk dress.
“Whose child?” asked the priest, lowering his voice, and respectfully inclining the cross towards the godfather, who drew near.
Viazimski looked at him, quite taken aback.