Below us once more, as from our verandah (only from a different and almost opposite point) we see the town and the land-locked bay flooded in a silver haze of moonlight, which fails, however, to make the crimson and golden reflection from the thousands of lanterns less apparent.
The scene is like nothing that can be imagined in beauty, and all around us appears to be enveloped in a veil of impalpable light.
We are close to the portico of the temple, and we pass underneath it and enter the courtyard, carried onward by the pressure of the multitude from behind.
We pass two enormous white-and-blue porcelain lanterns with encircling serpents of mythological type, and then we are in fairyland again.
Mousmé heaves a little sigh of delight; her colour is deepened by the crimson of excitement, and her eyes are dancing like
