Out into a wide court they went, following the courtier in blue, up a marble staircase to the left and along a balcony. Then suddenly a door was flung back and they were in the presence of the King. To Joseph, remembering it afterward, it all seemed like a dream, it was all so quiet and without ceremony. King Kazimir had chosen to receive them in a small antechamber in which he often met certain persons who were to be received without the usual ceremony of presentation, and Jan Kanty was one of the privileged ones that he met in such fashion. Joseph and his father dropped upon one knee in front of the King. He was sitting in a high-backed chair without a canopy, which bore at its highest peak a royal crown; this crown was just above the monarch’s head so that at first it seemed as if it were actually upon his head and he were crowned. He wore a huge purple robe which fell clear to the tops of his soft leather sandals; it had a great collar embroidered with silks of many colors and in many patterns; a heavy gold chain held the folds of the collar together, and beneath the collar folds could be seen a rich vest embroidered with gold. The sleeves of the robe were immense and hung down far below his knees as he sat there; the robe itself was fringed with heavy fur. His head covering was a simple cap of the same color as the robe, flat, soft, and turned up a trifle at each side. The King himself seemed the picture of comfort and informality; not so his guards. On each side of him stood a guard in plate armor, with stiff metal pieces over the arms, stomach, thighs, and legs. At the waist they wore short, straight swords ready for action at a second’s notice. These two men were as motionless as statues. About the room stood knights in different kinds of armor, some in light chain with long skirtlike coats, some in mail jackets that resembled checkerboards in pattern and extended only from shoulder to thigh, some in heavy armor and metal shoes armed with spurs. In front of the King were two pages carrying scepters. They, too, stood motionless as he spoke. “What is this?” he asked, as Jan Kanty came forward to kiss his hand, which ceremony the King did not allow. “Have we here some poor city dwellers driven forth by last night’s fire?” “Yea,” answered Jan Kanty, “that is true, though we come not on business of that sort. We are here upon some matter that may be of deeper interest than one would suppose. These are Pan Andrew and his son Joseph, by family name Charnetski, dwellers of the Ukraine driven forth by violence and come here to have audience with your Majesty.” “So,” said the King with quick interest. “Stand, if you please, and tell me the circumstances of your trouble for it greatly interests me at this present time. I have much news from the Ukraine, and not so pleasant, either. How came you by your misfortunes?”