There were several carriages, preceded and followed by a clanking company of horsemen, whose breast-plates glittered in the sun, and whose gay uniforms added a touch of colour to the drab streets through which they passed.
The foremost carriage contained the Russian Ambassador, accompanied by several high nobles of that empire. In the next carriage sat only two persons: Prince Azov, the honoured guest of the day, and by his side his most familiar English friend, the Earl of Stranleigh.
The streets on either side were lined with troops, and behind them was massed a very good-natured crowd, who vociferously cheered the spectacle. Along Piccadilly, down St. James's Street, and to the further end of Pall Mall the clubs were resplendent with bunting and decorations, and in the Strand, Venetian masts had been set up. All London seemingly was enjoying a holiday, turning out to honour the White Czar's representative. Everywhere the procession was welcomed by hurrahs and gladsome greeting, the waving of hats and handkerchiefs, and indeed, the young Prince, who smilingly acknowledged the enthusiasm, was a magnificent specimen of manhood, clad in Oriental splendour, and well worth coming out to see.
