"Why may I not sit by my friend's side?" asked Heinrich.
"What an odd question!" said the Major Domo. "Here you have been to half a dozen colleges, and learnt so much, and yet you don't know that! A subject cannot sit down by the side of his Prince; and when they ride together in the same carriage his proper place is the front seat."
Of course, it was the regular thing.
Moreover, as the place beside Casimir on the back seat remained empty, the big mastiff leaped into the carriage, and occupied the place of honour by his master's side.
"Then is a dog allowed to sit down by a nobleman?" inquired Heinrich, indignantly.
"Certainly, for the sinkorán is also a noble animal."
And then the procession, amidst the crack of pistol-shots, proceeded towards the castle.
In the castle gate a triumphal arch awaited the new arrivals, and the notabilities of the place were grouped around the entrance, the damsels arrayed in white and the peasantry in gala costumes.
When they reached the gate of the castle, it was not Heinrich's face that was red, but his forehead, and his eyes seemed rather to be green than blue.
He saw his father among the deputation. He could easily make him out—one black cassock was very prominent amidst the dazzling-bright Polish parade costumes.