ppreciate, it is also
pleasant to be appreciated. He still clutched at the basket, his hands
moist with excitement, his face aglow, and it was not until the ship was
reached that he noticed that Zut was sniffing at it.

"Behave," he ordered. But his voice was so kindly that the little fellow
only sniffed the more. It was easy to see that he was jubilating too.

On deck Tancred experienced some difficulty in securing a cabin. But for
what were rupees coined and tips invented? The steward consulted the
purser, the purser consulted the first officer, and in five minutes the
cabin of the latter functionary was at Tancred's disposal. It was roomy
and cool; or perhaps it would be more exact to say that it was fully as
large as a closet and that the thermometer did not mark one degree above
ninety. In short, Tancred had every reason to consider himself in luck.
He shut the door and throwing himself on a wicker settee he opened the
basket, which until now he had kept tight clasped in his hand.

It was, he saw, filled with sweetmeats such as he had eaten at the
bungalow. On top, pinned to the interior of the basket, was a slip of
paper that contained a single line--_Souvenir et bon voyage_--and for
signature, _Liance_. He read the message twice, and, it may be, he would
have repeated the message aloud, but Zut kept bothering him with little
hungry yelps. To quiet the dog be tossed him a sweet and put the basket
down.

In some mysterious manner his joy had taken itself away. It was not from
Liance he had expected a remembrance. When Atcheh placed the basket in
his hand, he had told himself that, whatever it might contain, it was at
least a gift from Mrs. Lyeth, a token expressive of her regret at his
departure. And instead of that there was a handful of bonbons that might
have been sent to a child, and a meaningless message from one to whose
solicitude he was indifferent. The disappointment, indeed, was great.
For a while he let it intensify within him. But presently he stood up:
it was getting dark; long since the sob of water displaced had told him
that the ship had started; a turn on deck might do him good, he thought;
and as he moved to the door he called to his dog.

"Zut!"

And as the dog did not immediately appear, Tancred wondered could he
have got out. But no, the door was closed.

"What the dickens can have become of him?" he muttered, and turning
again he caught sight of Zut stretched on the floor. "Hello!" he