last come two nobles, richly clothed, one bearing a tasting-knife, who, after prostrating themselves three times in the most graceful manner, approach and rub the table with bread and salt, with as much awe as if the King had been present.” {6}

So end the solemn preliminaries.

Now, far down the echoing corridors we hear a bugle-blast, and the indistinct cry, “Place for the King! Way for the King’s most excellent majesty!” These sounds are momently repeated — they grow nearer and nearer — and presently, almost in our faces, the martial note peals and the cry rings out, “Way for the King!” At this instant the shining pageant appears, and files in at the door, with a measured march. Let the chronicler speak again: —