been swept clean by the cyclone, an exceeding transparency bringing
out the minutest details of the far distance till then unseen; as if
the terrible blast had blown away every vestige of the floating mists
and left behind it nothing but void and boundless space. The coloring
of woods and mountains stood out again in the resplendent verdancy of
spring after the torrents of rain, like the wet colors of some freshly
washed painting. The sampans and junks, which for the last three days
had been lying under shelter, had now put out to sea, and the bay was
covered with their white sails, which looked like an immense flight of
seabirds.

At eight o'clock, at nightfall, our maneuver being at an end, I
embarked with Yves on board a sampan; this time it is he who is
carrying me off and taking me back to my home.

On land, a delicious perfume of new-mown hay greets us, and the road
across the mountains lies bathed in glorious moonlight. We go straight
up to Diou-djen-dji to join Chrysanthème; I feel almost remorseful,
although I hardly show it, for my neglect of her.

Looking up, I recognize from afar my little house, perched on high. It
is wide open and lit up; I even hear the sound of guitar. Then I
perceive the gilt head of my Buddha between: the little bright flames
of its two hanging night lamps. Now Chrysanthème appears on the
verandah, looking out as if she expected us; and with her wonderful
bows of hair and long falling sleeves, her silhouette is thoroughly
Niponese.

As I enter, she comes forward to kiss me, in a graceful, though rather
hesitating manner, while Oyouki, more demonstrative, throws her arms