smudge on the pavement indicating a hero's end; but eventually, by
mutual arrangement, we opened our eyes, and then we saw--not a smudge,
but Coleopteron still advancing quite unconcerned. It was a miracle.

"I can't stand it any longer," cried Frederick, to the amazement
of those sitting about us outside the café, "I shall go mad!" and,
leaping up from his seat, he rushed across the promenade and, taking
from his pocket a picture-postcard of some Hungarian beauty, he coaxed
Coleopteron to walk on to it, then bore him triumphantly back and
deposited him upon the leaf of a palm which overhung our table.

Shortly afterwards the little steamer whistled again and left the
quay.

Frederick remained silent for some time as befits a man who has saved
a life, and then arose to have a look at Coleopteron and doubtless
to make himself better known to the little hero; but to his pained
surprise Coleopteron was not to be found. All over that palm he
searched in vain and on the floor; then suddenly he emitted a gurgling
sound and I saw that he was in the grip of deep emotion. There was a
look on his face I had never seen before, and I anxiously asked him
what had happened. For some time he could not speak, but stood gazing
vacantly into space. At last, with parched lips, he spoke.

"Look in the milk-jug!" he said, and sank into his chair.

For a moment I thought that Frederick had been poisoned, and then I
realised the truth, for there in the hot milk floated the corpse of
Coleopteron.