waved his board over his shaven head. The Arab waiter smiled
as if with satisfaction at beholding perfect competence. But Androvsky
stood quite still looking down the dusty road at the diminishing forms
of horse and rider, and when they disappeared, leaving behind them a
light cloud of sand films whirling in the sun, he sighed heavily and
dropped his chin on his chest as if fatigued.

"I can get a horse for Monsieur too. Would Monsieur like to have a
horse?"

It was the poet's amply seductive voice. Androvsky started.

"I don't ride," he said curtly.

"I will teach Monsieur. I am the best teacher in Beni-Mora. In three
lessons Monsieur will--"

"I don't ride, I tell you."

Androvsky was looking angry. He stepped out into the road. Bous-Bous,
who was now observing Nature at the priest's garden gate, emerged with
some sprightliness and trotted towards him, evidently with the intention
of making his acquaintance. Coming up to him the little dog raised his
head and uttered a short bark, at the same time wagging his tail in a
kindly, though not effusive manner. Androvsky looked down, bent quickly
and patted him, as only a man really fond of animals and accustomed
to them knows how to pat. Bous-Bous was openly gratified. He began to
wriggle affectionately. The priest in his garden smiled. Androvsky had
not seen him and went on playing with the dog, who now made preparations
to lie down on his curly back in the road in the hope of being tickled,
a process he was an amateur of. Still smiling, and with a friendly
look on his face, the priest came out of his garden and approached the
playmates.

"Good morning, M'sieur," he said politely, raising his hat. "I see you
like dogs."

Androvsky lifted himself up, leaving Bous-Bous in a prayerful attitude,
his paws raised devoutly towards the heavens. When he saw that it was
the priest who had addressed him his face changed, hardened to grimness,
and his lips trembled slightly.

"That's my little dog," the priest continued in a gentle voice. "He has
evidently taken a great fancy to you."

Batouch was watching Androvsky under the arcade, and noted the sudden
change in his expression and his whole bearing.

"I--I did not know he was your dog, Monsieur, or I should not have
interfered with him," said Androvsky.

Bous-Bous jumped up against his leg. He pushed the little dog rather
roughly away and stepped back to the arcade. The priest looked puzzled
and slightly hurt. At th