separates and isolates us more than usual from the profusion of
oddities in the midst of which we seem to be lost. Beneath us, lies
always the immense blue background: Nagasaki illumined by moonlight,
and the expanse of silvered, glittering water, which seems like a
vaporous vision suspended in mid-air. Behind us is the great open
temple, where the bonzes officiate to the accompaniment of sacred
bells and wooden clappers,--looking, from where we sit, more like
puppets than anything else, some squatting in rows like peaceful
mummies, others executing rhythmical marches before the golden
background where stand the gods. We do not laugh to-night, and speak
but little, more forcibly struck by the scene than we were on the
first night; we only look on, trying to understand. Suddenly, Yves
turning round, says:

"Hullo! brother, your mousmé!!"

Actually there she is, behind him; Chrysanthème almost on all fours,
hidden between the paws of a great granite beast, half tiger, half
dog, against which our fragile tent is leaning.

"She pulled my trousers with her nails, for all the world like a
little cat," said Yves, still full of surprise, "positively like a
cat!"

She remains bent double in the most humble form of salutation; she
smiles timidly, afraid of being ill received, and the head of my
little brother-in-law, Bambou, appears smiling too, just above her
own. She has brought this little _mousko_[I] with her, perched astride
on her back; he looks as absurd as ever, with his shaven head, his
long frock and the great bows of his silken sash. There they both