bed, and a case of books, in storage in New York, made the complete list of his present possessions in the material world. Then, bethinking him, he remembered that there remained to him his chartered right in M. Cayzac's automobile. It was at his disposal, engaged to carry him to Batna and Timgad, to Constantine and Bône, all on the way to Tunis, where it would finally deposit him; and this was already paid for.
Then to Tunis he would go. He did not seek further into his motive for this decision: it was enough to say to himself that the automobile would save his railroad fare; and yet a curious little guiltiness, like the faint sly sting of some slightly poisonous insect, penetrated his consciousness as he set himself upon this course. He did not look himself over to find the small wound; he preferred to ignore it. He was doing the only sensible thing—he was sure of that—and toward the close of the afternoon he felt able to dress, and went downstairs to ask questions of the concierge.
"It is too late for you to start to-day," the man told him. "Besides, your chauffeur tells me you are here until to-morrow by M. Cayzac's arrangement for Etienne's own expenses. It is Etienne who is
