As twilight came on and deepened into night, the great mass of people at the river's edge sang songs, the Polish national song and many others.
When at last the moon lifted up its bright face over the mud-flats to the east of the river, there went up a great shout.
Then there were merry struggles to get to the water's edge and launch the wreaths. Those up on the top of the Wawel tossed theirs down,
and these did not always fall into the river, but there were plenty of willing hands to take them up and throw them in.
Many of those who had paper or muslin wreaths lighted them first and when they were burning brightly, set them afloat.
They were like red stars upon the moonlit water. They bobbed about in the river until their flames were put out,
or floated down its main currents, some flaming, some lying on the water's surface like great water-lilies.
GRANDFATHER MAKES HIS DECISION
Meanwhile, amidst the crowd, Uncle Ludwik and Aunt Anni were wondering where their son Lothar could be.
They had asked him to go with them to the Festival, but when the time had come to start for the river they could not find him.
They were quite used to that, for Lothar could not be depended upon. Quite near them was Marya,
arm in arm with Grandfather, the two of them laughing like happy children together.
Near by, Ivor was pushing Grandmother in her old wheel chair.
He had gone early to get her, knowing that the chair had a habit of moving on a slant instead of straight ahead.
And indeed it took a long time to reach the Wawel from the little house in a narrow street near the square where Grandfather and Grandmother lived.