skill, and a distracting absence of etiquette, among the decorous
gondolas, whose long-suffering masters shouted themselves hoarse in
their efforts to enforce the conventional rules of the highway.

Presently one of the gondolas glided in alongside the Colonel's, and
almost before their respective occupants could recognise one another the
gunwales of the two boats had been securely lashed together.

"We're just in time," said Geoffry. "We could see the reflection of the
lights around the bend, when we were in midstream. Ah, there it comes!"

As he spoke, a brilliant, variegated light fell upon the mass of
gondolas a few rods up the Canal, and a moment later the huge structure
of red, white, and green lamps, came drifting down-stream. It
represented a great temple with dome-like roof topped by a crown of
lights, glittering against the dark background of the night. As it drew
nearer, the throng of boats in its path thinned a little, and broken
reflections of the gleaming lights danced between the gondolas, and
sparkled in the oar-drops.

"What do you think of the architecture of it?" May asked, in her fresh
young voice, that seemed to dissipate illusion, like a ray of plain
daylight let in upon a stage scene.

Daymond laughed.

"I don't perceive any," he said. "Do you?"

"Well, I don't know; I supposed it was meant for a building."

"Oh, no!" said Pauline. "It's meant for a dream. Don't wake us up, May!
See; they're stopping in front of the Ca' Doro."

The movement of the great barge had been so slow, that it had halted
almost unawares in front of the beautiful palace, and straightway a rosy
bengal light lit up the carvings of the fairy-like facade with a magical
effect. The band, lurking melodramatically under the gleaming arches of
the barge, struck up a prelude, and presently a soprano voice rose high
and strong above the wind and stringed instruments, ringing superbly out
across the water. The fantastic impression of the scene was so strong
that it seemed as if the visible brilliance of the shining lights had
entered into the voice itself, giving it a weird and uncanny splendour.
The vast floating audience listened, motionless and silent, until the
last note went out like a light suddenly extinguished. Then, after a
gust of hand-clapping had subsided, the glittering barge moved forward
once more, the dip of a hundred oars plashing softly in its wake.

When the mass of the attendant flotilla had passed the m