ds, sails, the lofty
pointed prow, as well as the broad stern, nay, even the upper part of
the oar handles, were wreathed, garlanded, twined with flowers, gay,
broad ribbons, even gold and silver fringes; magnificent rugs covered
the whole deck, which had been finished with costly woodwork; some of
them hung in the water at the stern and floated far, far behind the
ships.

On the deck of every vessel, at the mast or at the stern, picturesquely
posed on several steps Vandal men and youths. They were dressed in
striking costumes, often copied from various nations, and beside them
reclined young girls or beautiful boys. The fair or red locks of the
Vandals fell on the neck of many a brown-skinned maid, and mingled with
many black tresses.

Music echoed from every ship; busy slaves--white, yellow Moors,
negroes--poured out unmixed wine from beautifully formed jars with
handles. No matter how the vessels rocked, they bore the jars on their
heads without spilling the contents, and apparently with no great
exertion, often holding them with only one hand. So the dark fleet
glided over the redly illumined lake.

But suddenly the centre opened and out shot, apparently moving without
oars,--the slaves were concealed under the deck,--the great wedding
ship, far outshining all the others in fantastic, lavish splendor. It
was drawn seemingly only by eight powerful swans, fastened in pairs
with small gold chains attached to collars. These chains passed under
the wings of each pair, uniting them to the next. The magnificent
birds, which had been carefully trained for this purpose, heeded not
the uproar and light around them, but moved in calm majesty straight
toward the balcony at the southern end.

On the deck, piled a foot high with crimson roses, an open arbor of
natural vines had been arranged around the mast. In it lay the
bridegroom, a giant nearly seven feet tall, his shining mane of red
locks garlanded with vine leaves and--in violation of good taste--red
roses. A panther-skin was around the upper portion of his body, a
purple apron about his loins, a thyrsus staff in his huge but loosely
hanging right hand. Nestling to his broad, powerful breast reclined an
extremely delicate, fragile girl, scarcely beyond childhood, almost too
dainty of form. Her face could not be seen; the Roman bridal veil had
been fastened on the deserted Ariadne--very unsuitably. Besides, the
child seemed frightened by all the uproar, timidly hiding