the larger buildings were all lighted up by brilliant flames, burning in
pans of pitch and sending up clouds of smoke, in which the flags and
pennons waved gently backwards and forwards. The palm-trees and
sycamores were silvered by the moonlight and threw strange fantastic
reflections on the red waters of the Nile-red from the fiery glow of the
houses on their shores. But strong and glowing as was the light of the
illumination, its rays had not power to reach the middle of the giant
river, where the boat was making its course, and the pleasure-party felt
as if they were sailing in dark night between two brilliant days. Now
and then a brightly-lighted boat would come swiftly across the river and
seem, as it neared the shore, to be cutting its way through a glowing
stream of molten iron.

Lotus-blossoms, white as snow, lay on the surface of the river, rising
and falling with the waves, and looking like eyes in the water. Not a
sound could be heard from either shore. The echoes were carried away by
the north-wind, and the measured stroke of the oars and monotonous song
of the rowers were the only sounds that broke the stillness of this
strange night--a night robbed of its darkness.

For a long time the friends gazed without speaking at the wonderful
sight, which seemed to glide past them. Zopyrus was the first to break
the silence by saying, as he drew a long breath: "I really envy you,
Bartja. If things were as they should be, every one of us would have his
dearest wife at his side on such a night as this."

"And who forbade you to bring one of your wives?" answered the happy
husband.

"The other five," said the youth with a sigh. "If I had allowed Oroetes'