Lubimoff admired the warrior of the guard, an old white mustache, stoop-shouldered, almost hunchbacked, with chestnut colored coat and bowler hat. A red and white armband on one sleeve was all uniform. Taking his rifle shouldered old, still huge and heavy for over a bayonet endless, I could rest next to the hut painted in the colors of Monaco, but preferred to move in endless walk, looking everywhere for someone trying to enter the Alcazar absent sovereign. Other parents and even grandparents, dressed in their Sunday suits, waited patiently on a bench for their turn to exercise the honorable function.

Most notable in this plaza was the artillery, a number of eighteenth-century cannons that were there decoratively, like armor that decorate a room … On both sides of the door of the palace were lined enormous and magnificent six-piece, cast in bronze and carved green statue and museum works. Together with their mouths, twisted metal litter forming a capital, its opposite the head surmounted a jellyfish. The hollow shaft of these columns was adorned with the three lilies of the old French monarchy, the handles of each gun were two dolphins, and all parts pretentious bore the motto Nec pluribus impar of Louis XIV, with a more somber: Last ratio regnum.

The prince smiled at this motto.

“Now, the guns, he told are no longer” the last reason of kings, “but what are peoples. We have advanced little. “

All these green canyons had their own name, as a ship or a regiment. One was called Nero, another Tiberius beyond opened their mouths round the Stout and Roncador.