"Shall your Highness delay your coronation?" inquired Radzivil.
"And show Russia that we fear her? No. Let not the ceremony be delayed by so little as one hour. And when the solemnity is over then will I proceed direct from the cathedral to the camp. To arms! To arms! This last fragment of Poland shall not fall without making a valiant stand."
"There spake the spirit of your ancestors, the Jagellons," said Zabern. "Princess, you should have been born a man."
CHAPTER XV
THE EVE OF THE CORONATION
The dusk of a lovely autumnal eve had fallen over Slavowitz. Lights were beginning to twinkle along the boulevards.
The preparations for the coronation were complete. The clinking of the carpenter's hammer had ceased; the last bench had been put up; the last flag hung out. The streets had become fairy arcades festooned with flowers and colored lamps.
Crowds of sight-seers were abroad viewing the city decorations.
A numerous throng, composed principally of peasants from the more remote parts of Czernova, and who had never before seen their princess, moved to and fro in front of the Vistula Palace, calling for a sight of their fair ruler; and Barbara, responsive to their desire, appeared at intervals on the balcony smiling her acknowledgments, and occasionally waving a scarf—an action which drew forth rounds of applause.
The gayly decorated capital, brilliant with light, resonant on all sides with song and music, alive with an ever-moving, laughing populace, formed a picture difficult to associate with coming disaster.