drew his sword wrathfully. "If you knew to whom
you were--"

But the older man motioned him to keep silence.

"You must have come a long distance, if you ask such questions," the
Vandal went on, evidently amused by the appearance of the foreigners.
"It is the same always in this grove of the goddess of love. Only
possibly it may be a trifle gayer to-night. The richest nobleman in
Carthage celebrates his wedding. And he has invited the whole city."

The beauty at his side raised herself a little. "Why do you waste time
in talking to these rustics? Look, the lake is already shining with red
light. The gondola procession is beginning. I want to see handsome
Thrasaric."

And--at this name--the inanimate features brightened, the large, dark,
impenetrable eyes darted an eager, searching glance into the distance,
then the long lashes fell. She leaned her head back on the purple
cushions; the black hair was piled up more than two hands high and
clasped by five gold circlets united by light silver chains, yet the
magnificent locks, thick as they were, were so stiff and coarse in
texture that they resembled the hair of a horse's mane.

"Can't you content yourself for the present, Astarte, with the less
handsome Modigisel?" shouted her companion, with a strength of voice
that proved the affectation of his former lisping whisper. "You are
growing too bold since your manumission." And he nudged her in the side
with his elbow. It was probably meant for an expression of tenderness.
But the Carthaginian slightly curled her upper lip, revealing only her
little white incisors. It was merely a light tremor, but it recalled
the huge cats of her native land, especially when at the same time,
like an angry tiger, she shut her eyes and threw back her splendid
round head a little, as if silently vowing future vengeance.

Modigisel had not noticed it.

"I will obey, divine mistress," he now lisped again in the most
affected tone. "Forward!" Then as the poor blacks--he had adopted the
fashionable tone so completely--really did not hear him at all, he now
roared like a bear: "Forward, you dogs, I tell you!" striking, with a
strength no one would have expected from the rose-garlanded dandy, the
nearest slave a blow on the back which felled him to the ground. The
man rose again without a sound, and with the seven others grasped the
heavily gilded poles; the litter soon vanished in the throng.

"Did you see _her_?" asked the wearer of the