You could not have arrived at a time more
opportune. I have taken the precaution to reserve chairs for you on
the verandah. The procession will pass directly in front of the hotel
on its way to Castle avenue."
"What procession?" demanded Mr. Blithers. He was beginning to recall
the presence of uniformed bands and mounted troops in the side
streets near the station.
"The Prince is returning to-day from his trip around the world," said
the manager.
"He ought to have been back long ago," said Mr. Blithers wrathfully,
and mopped his brow with a hand rendered unsteady by a mental
convulsion. He was thinking of his hat-lifting experience.
True to schedule, the procession passed the hotel at five. Bands were
playing, people were shouting, banners were waving, and legions of
mounted and foot soldiers in brilliant array clogged the
thoroughfare. The royal equipage rolled slowly by, followed by less
gorgeous carriages in which were seated the men who failed to make
the advent of Mr. Blithers a conspicuous success.
Prince Robin sat in the royal coach, faced by two unbending officers
of the Royal Guard.
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