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On Sunday, the 24th August, the Elector at the head of his guests and attendants, in splendid array, rode forth to receive the bridegroom. His cavalcade numbered four thousand. William of Orange had arrived, accompanied by one thousand mounted men. The whole troop now entered the city together, escorting the Prince to the town-house.
"Hist! mother; that's like horses' hoofs," he whispered, opening the door and gazing intently in the direction whence the sound came. Louder and louder it came, until an opening in the forest showed the advancing cavalcade to be a party of white men.
From their noon camp they rode into the timber and from the timber into a mountain meadow, knee-deep with lush grass. There was no visible trail across the meadow but the horses seemed to know which way to go. After crossing the meadow, Filaree, leading the cavalcade, turned and took a steep trail down the side of a hidden cañon, a mighty chasm, rock-walled and somber.
And the whole file vanished round a corner. The yelling of imprisoned cheese-fed boys grew louder. The Signal would have telephoned to Snape's, but for the fact that a circus is never on the telephone. It then telephoned to its Oldcastle agent, who, after a long delay, was able to reply that the cavalcade had left Oldcastle at the appointed hour, with every sign of health and energy.
A few Americans were there in the ugly garb of their country, a blot on the picture. At the door, just in front of the cavalcade, stood General Vallejo's carriage, the only one in California, sent from Sonoma for the occasion. Beside it were three superbly-trapped horses. The governor placed the swelling nurse in the carriage, then glanced about him. "Where is Estenega? and the Castros?" he asked.
Vincennes, in the midst of its noble forest, was the place fixed for the meeting of the royal pair; and never did a happier or more brilliant cavalcade traverse those woodlands than that with which Henry rode to the appointed spot. All the winter, the King had heeded appearances as little as of old when roughing it with Hotspur in Wales; but now his dress was of the most royal.
He departed, forming one of a somewhat singular cavalcade two of his friends on either side, two in front, and two behind. It had almost the appearance of a procession. The whole party stepped into a closed motor-car. Three or four men were lounging on the pavement and there was some excited whispering, but no one actually interfered.
There was a procession of yokes of oxen, a brass band, the living skeleton, two fire engines, citizens generally, the Orator of the Day, more oxen, marshals in cowhide boots and badges, and a cavalcade. There may have been other oxen. I did not intend to omit them. The Orator was announced in the bills as "a finished speaker."
The little cavalcade had made barely a dozen steps in advance when Sam, who was leading, came to a dead halt. "Well, what do you make of that?" he asked. Across the way lay the trunk of a fallen tree. It had been entirely covered with snow, whose line ran clear and unbroken its entire length except at one point, where it dipped to a shallow notch. "Well, what do you make of that?"
The Oxford circuit had been allotted to them; and they had expected to be greeted in every shire by a cavalcade of the loyal gentry. But as they approached Wallingford, where they were to open their commission for Berkshire, the Sheriff alone came forth to meet them.
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