Shortly after this the deck-lights were extinguished, and the little crowd of masqueraders went down to the saloon, where, over a champagne supper, the Captain was to announce his award. And now came what, to me, was the most curious part of it all. My name was called as the winner of the prize; but I did not respond. Thereupon there was a little explosion of laughter and ironical cheering; and Chunder Singh, who had been sitting beside me, pushed me forward. With the curious sensation of one awakened from a dream, I rose to my feet, said something, I don't remember what, and received the congratulations of my friends. 'You are a fine actor, my young friend,' said an old fellow near me. 'I never saw a thing carried off so well. You might have been amongst the darkies all your life.' 'I protest, I am not sure of him yet,' said another. 'Is he sure of himself?' This was from Mrs. Lyster, who sat exactly opposite to me at the table. I noticed, with a little pang, that her tone was chilly, and she looked at me with a gleam of something like anger in her eyes--I am afraid she will not forgive me for having disappointed her---- --My trick has produced consequences which I was far from expecting when I planned it. All of my 'Patagonia' friends, with the exception of Chunder Singh, who is almost irritatingly affectionate, have been giving me the cold shoulder. The Captain and the first officer are excessively busy whenever they catch sight of me. Colonel Trent has chosen to adopt a short, reserved manner which prevents me from addressing him much. Mrs. Lyster is politely cold, and several ladies, who had condescended to be gracious to me, have quietly relegated me to a much less intimate footing. So far as these last are concerned I do not mind; but Mrs. Lyster and I have been too friendly for me to be able to give her up without a struggle. I asked her this morning how soon she meant to forgive me. She answered hurriedly, but with a spice of resentment in her manner, that she did not know what I meant; there was nothing to forgive, and then, to avoid more questions, she left me abruptly. In the afternoon she approached me of her own accord, and made an effort to be cordial; but the effort was too apparent for me to be able to feel very grateful. What is the meaning of it all? Can she, can any of them, imagine that I am only playing the European? Mrs. Lyster cannot, for she knows all about me. But even allowing that it were so, not that I am an Asiatic, for that would be impossible, but that my sympathies reach out into the land where the ideas which have measurelessly enriched the spiritual heritage of the nations had their birth; nay, more, that some secret tie of blood or mental kinship does actually bind my life to that of the east--why should they, therefore, despise me? Ah! what a puzzle it is! What a strange, inexplicable tangle! Who, who, will ever set it right?