In this pageant Katina Ludovska bore part, by far the most charming of the maidens present, clad as she was in a dainty corselet of silvered mail, above a dark-blue satin skirt flowered with gold. Mounted upon a beautiful bay, she bore proudly aloft a famous historic memorial, a standard captured by King Sigismund at the taking of Moscow, its white silken folds distinctly stamped with the impress of a bloody hand, a ghastly testimony to the struggle that had once raged around it.
In riding along the line of the procession, Zabern stopped and addressed a few words to his affianced.
"Not pasteboard and tinsel, I trust?" he said, with a smile, and referring to the sword by her side.
"Real steel," replied Katina, exhibiting the blade.
"Good! 'Tis well to go armed on such a day as this. We shall be fighting for our liberties ere long."
"Death before submission," replied Katina, with a brave light in her eyes that made Zabern love her the more.
The din caused by the marching of soldiers, the neighing of steeds, the rolling of carriage-wheels, the snarling of silver trumpets, the crisp, sharp word of command floated upward to Barbara's ears as she sat undergoing her toilet at the hands of her ladies. She wondered, as she had wondered many times that morning, how it would all end, for assuredly no coronation could ever have been heralded with more sinister auspices than her own.
Partly with a view to picturesque effect, and partly that the populace along the line of route might have a clear and uninterrupted view of their princess, it had been decided that she should proceed to the cathedral mounted upon a white palfrey.
Barbara had been somewhat disposed at first to shrink from this exposure to public gaze, but had finally consented to the arrangement, won over by the argument that as the people would assemble for the express purpose of seeing her, it would be a disappointment to them to catch but a glimpse of their ruler through the windows of a state-coach.
To Radzivil and Zabern had been given the honor of riding side by side with the princess, though the marshal cared much less for the honor than for the opportunity afforded him of exercising guard over her person, since he was not without apprehension that some fanatic Muscovite might attempt her life during her progress through the streets.