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Updated: May 8, 2025
When Rastka and Vorversk appeared, they were in uniforms also. It was a uniform which had a touch of the Orient in its picturesque splendor. A short fur-bordered mantle hung by a jeweled chain from the shoulders, and there was much magnificent embroidery of color and gold. "Sir, we must drive quickly to the station," Baron Rastka said to Marco.
What he realized most clearly was that the fact that the son of Stefan Loristan was being escorted in private state to the country his father had given his life's work to, was never for a moment forgotten. The Baron Rastka and Count Vorversk were of the dignity and courteous reserve which marks men of distinction.
'The Bearers of the Sign." They were being taken to the Palace. That Baron Rastka and Count Vorversk had explained in the train. His Majesty wished to receive them. Stefan Loristan was there also. The city had once been noble and majestic. It was somewhat Oriental, as its uniforms and national costumes were.
"They are doing something with Samavian flags and a lot of flowers and green things!" cried The Rat, in excitement. "Sir, they are decorating the outside of the carriage," Vorversk said. "The villagers on the line obtained permission from His Majesty. The son of Stefan Loristan could not be allowed to pass their homes without their doing homage."
Beedle through them, as it were, at Marco. He advanced towards them at once. "You come from my father!" he said, and gave his hand first to the elder man, then to the younger. "Yes, we come from your father. I am Baron Rastka and this is the Count Vorversk," said the elder man, bowing.
The people who were standing about turned to look at him, and the next instant they had all torn off their caps and thrown them up in the air and were shouting also. But it was not possible to hear what they said. "We were only just in time," said Vorversk, and Baron Rastka nodded. The train went swiftly, and stopped only once before they reached Melzarr.
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