I was perturbed—frightened. But I did not demur when Tarrano led us to his flower-bedecked barge. Of what use?
We were paired. Georg with Maida; Elza with Tarrano. And I? Tarrano told me curtly—and with a smile of ironic amusement—that when we reached the festival so handsome a man as I would have no trouble engaging the attention of some Venus maiden.
On cushions in the barge we reclined while our slaans poled us along the streets. Tarrano was feeding sweets to Elza as though they were gay young lovers. Poor little Elza! She was frightened. Her face was a trifle pale, her lips set. But she, too, knew that we were wholly in Tarrano's power, and she made the best of the situation. Sometimes she would laugh gayly; but I could not miss the note of fear in it.
The progress of our barge was slow. Boats clustered around us, their occupants pelting us with flowers. A deluge spray of perfume was turned on us—a heavy, exotic scent, almost cloying. It lay redolent on our garments for hours.
Presently Tarrano gave us masks. And long robes for Maida and Elza to cover the gay holiday dresses they were wearing.
At the edge of the city a canal had been dug through the hillside. We passed slowly through it, under archways of dangling colored lights, around a sharp bend and came upon the Water Festival. And—with impending tragedy for the moment forgotten—I gazed for this first time at such a scene of pleasure and beauty as I had never even imagined.
CHAPTER XXI
Love, Music—and a Warning
The Water Festival! As our barge rounded a bend in the canal, under the archways of dangling colored lights, the festival spread before us. Involuntarily I stood up to gaze. The canal opened into an artificial lake—a broad circular sheet of water some 800 helans[17] in diameter. Sloping hillsides enclosed the lake—hillsides which I saw were terraced with huge banks of seats in tiers one above the other.