roar of thousands of spectators; she allowed herself to be lifted from
the car as though she were stunned, and followed the young men and
maidens who formed the bridal train, and in alternate choruses sang the
finest nuptial song of Sappho the fair Lesbian.

The bishop now made an attempt to address the people, but he was soon
reduced to silence. So he once more joined Paula, and hand in hand they
went on to the pier.

All she had in her of strength, pride, and heroic courage she summoned to
her aid to enable her to walk these last few paces with her head erect,
and without tottering; she had gone half way along the wooden structure,
with a mien as lofty and majestic as though she were marching to command
the obedience of the mob, when hoofs came thundering after her on the
boards.

Old Horapollo, on his white ass, had overtaken her and stopped her on her
road. Breathless, bathed in perspiration, scornful and triumphant, he
desired her to remove her veil, and ordered the bishop to leave her and
give up his place to the man who represented Father Nile--a gigantic
farrier who followed him, somewhat embarrassed in his costume, but very
ready to perform his part to the end.

The priest and Paula, however, refused to obey. At this the old man tore
the veil from her face and signed to the Nile-God; he stepped forward and
assumed his rights, after bowing respectfully to the prelate--who was
forced to make way--and then led the Bride to the end of the platform.
Here the two elders who had headed the procession in honor of Bacchus,
cast the gold cups as offerings into the river, and then a lawyer, in the
costume of a heathen priest, proceeded to expound, in a well-set speech,