For my own part, I had not the same capacity for pleasure as some of the others; indeed, rarely have I been so uncomfortable as on that day which should have been the happiest of my life. Not that I did not appreciate the importance of the occasion; or that I felt any desire to undo the bond now being irrevocably tied. But the crowds of idlers, staring and staring at Yasma and me as though to swallow us with their eyes, made me feel miserably out of place; and the ceremonies were so curious that I felt like an intruder. When I awoke after a troubled sleep in the dusk of that unforgettable May morning, I was vaguely aware of the undercurrent of excitement in the village. Even at this hour, the people were abroad; I could hear them moving quickly about, could hear their chattering voices. Without delay, therefore, I arose and dressed in a bright blue and red native costume, Abthar's wedding gift, which he had urged upon me in place of my now ragged civilized garb; then somewhat timidly I stepped out of my cabin. The first persons I met were Karem and his brother Barkodu, who were standing not twenty paces from my door, as though awaiting me. I observed that long ribbons and tassels of red and yellow hung from their heads and shoulders; while streamers of every conceivable hue--crimson and purple, orange, lavender and green--had been strung during the night from cabin to cabin, giving the village a fantastic and festal appearance. My two friends greeted me enthusiastically; muttered congratulations; and led me to the cabin where Yasma was expecting my arrival. The bride-to-be was clad in a slender, specially woven robe of sky-blue; and ornaments of a stone like amethyst adorned her hair and shoulders. My heart leapt as she beamed her greeting to me--how dazzling, I thought, how dazzling beyond the most gaudy princess that ever graced a salon! She was paler today than ordinarily; her eyes shone with an unusual timidity; yet there was something ravishingly sweet about her expression, a childlike candor and smiling loveliness that reminded me of a flower just bursting into bloom. But only for one instant I reveled in the sight of her. Then, though she lingered at my side, she might have been a thousand miles away. Together we were escorted to the open space in the center of the village, where we were hailed by scores of men and women, all bedecked with colored tassels and banners. Amid that staring multitude, each member of which came forth in turn to express the same felicitations in the same words, we had little chance to communicate with one another by so much as a meeting of fingers or a sidelong glance. As best we could, we endured the ordeal; but I could see that Yasma was being tired out by the innumerable bows she had to make and the innumerable expressions of thanks.