of dazzling splendor, lighted by hundreds
of lusters multiplied tenfold by the numerous mirrors adorning the
walls.

The grand saloon, the finest of all those contained in the New Palace,
formed to this procession of exalted personages and splendidly dressed
women a frame worthy of the magnificence they displayed. The rich
ceiling, with its gilding already softened by the touch of time,
appeared as if glittering with stars. The embroidered drapery of the
curtains and doors, falling in gorgeous folds, assumed rich and varied
hues, broken by the shadows of the heavy masses of damask.

Through the panes of the vast semicircular bay-windows the light, with
which the saloons were filled, shone forth with the brilliancy of a
conflagration, vividly illuminating the gloom in which for some hours
the palace had been shrouded. The attention of those of the guests not
taking part in the dancing was attracted by the contrast. Resting in the
recesses of the windows, they could discern, standing out dimly in the
darkness, the vague outlines of the countless towers, domes, and spires
which adorn the ancient city. Below the sculptured balconies were
visible numerous sentries, pacing silently up and down, their rifles
carried horizontally on the shoulder, and the spikes of their helmets
glittering like flames in the glare of light issuing from the palace.
The steps also of the patrols could be heard beating time on the stones
beneath with even more regularity than the feet of the dancers on the
floor of the saloon. From time to time the watchword was repeated from
post to post, and occasionally the notes of a trumpet, mingling with
the strains of the orchestra, penetrated into their midst. Still farther
down, in front of the facade, dark masses obscured the rays of light
which proceeded from the windows of the New Palace. These were boats
descending the course of a river, whose waters, faintly illumined by a
few lamps, washed the lower portion of the terraces.

The principal personage who has been mentioned, the giver of the fete,
and to whom General Kissoff had been speaking in that tone of respect
with which sovereigns alone are usually addressed, wore the simple
uniform of an officer of chasseurs of the guard. This was not
affectation on his part, but the custom of a man who cared little for
dress, his contrasting strongly with the gorgeous costumes amid which
he moved, encircled by his escort of Georgians, Cossacks, and
Circassia