By eleven o'clock the streets in the neighbourhood of the Plaza were packed with people. All along Castle Avenue, up which the Prince was to drive in the coach of State, hung the proud, adoring burghers and their families: like geese to flock, like sheep to scatter. At twelve the Castle gates were to be thrown open for the brilliant cavalcade that was to pass between these cheering rows of people. In less than a quarter of an hour afterward, the Prince and his court, the noble ladies and gentlemen of Graustark, with the distinguished visitors from other lands, would pass into the great square through Regengetz Circus.
At the corner below the crowded Castle Café, in the north side of the square, which was now patroled by brilliant dragoons, two men met and exchanged the compliments of the day. One of them had just come up on horseback. He dismounted, leaving the animal in charge of an urchin who saw a gavvo in sight. This man was young and rather dashing in appearance. The other was older and plainly a citizen of some consequence.
"Well?" said the latter impatiently, after they had passed the time of day for the benefit of the nearest on-lookers. The younger man, slapping his riding boot with his crop, led the way to the steps of a house across the sidewalk. Both had shot a swift, wary glance at one of the upper windows.
"Everything is ready. There will be no hitch," said the horseman in low tones.
"You have seen Spantz?"
"Sh! No names. Yes. The girl is ready."
"And the fortress?"
"Fifty men are in the houses opposite and others will go there—later on."
"We must keep the reserves out of the fortress. It would mean destruction if they got to the gun-rooms and the ammunition houses."
"Is he here?" with a motion toward the upper window.