The sounds produced by the collision were like the sharp rattle of artillery, and could be heard above the hubbub of the crowd. On the other side of the river, and grimly grey in the morning sunlight, rose the Petropaulovski Fortress, an object of interest to Wilfrid as being the place in which he would at that moment have been a prisoner but for Pauline’s bold rescue. On the waters of the river before the principal gate of the Citadel floated a sort of state barge, rich with gilding, and gay with coloured flags. This Bucentaur was being rapidly filled with officials from the Citadel, conspicuous among them being the Governor, Count Baranoff. As soon as he had taken his place in the barge a puff of white smoke issued from the ramparts, accompanied by salvos of artillery, that were repeated at regular intervals. “That gun is a signal that the river is becoming passable for boats,” said Pauline. “We are about to witness an interesting ceremony.” “Of what nature?” “On reaching this side of the river the Governor will proceed to the Winter Palace, taking with him a goblet containing water from the Neva. No matter upon what business the Czar may be engaged, custom enjoins that he shall come forth and drink from the goblet in sight of all the people. He then returns the cup filled with gold pieces. The ceremony is a kind of homage paid to the Neva, an acknowledgment of the advantages to be derived from the free course of commerce.” “Petersburgers think a good deal of the Neva, then?” “So much so that I have seen a youth welcomed home from his travels, not with champagne or the like, but with a goblet of Neva water.” Wilfrid watched the progress of the Bucentaur. While its rowers plied their oars, men stationed at the prow and provided with poles kept the passage clear from the floating ice. In the wake of the state barge followed a long train of boats, filled with merchants and citizens clad in gala attire. Count Baranoff, in his seat of honour, was in a jubilant mood that morning, as became a man who saw the elements conspiring to favour his interests. A break-up of the ice in a single night was a phenomenon almost without parallel in the history of the Neva. He carried with him a secret, the disclosure of which would remove all enemies from his path, and open a way for him to the highest offices in the State. Fondly refusing to believe that any ill _could_ have happened to Paul—though his brother who sat in the boat with him, was troubled with doubts—he purposed after the Czar should have performed the customary ceremony in the matter of the goblet, to ask for a private interview, in the course of which he would put the treasonable document into Paul’s hands with the words, “Read that, Sire.”