SOME CATS OF FRANCE 21 



also, which is the unusual feature of the case, di: 

 tressingly ugly. It was at the close of a long skii 

 mish hardly worthy to be called a battle in th 

 Yellow Sea, that she leaped from a Chinese jun 

 to the French warship, and, guided by instinct c 

 destiny, took refuge in Loti s cabin, a piteou 

 object, meagre, terrified, miserable, the most forlor 

 and desolate of intruders, but absolutely determine 

 to remain. 



Loti, to do him justice, did not yield without 

 protest. The strange Moumoutte was not attra&amp;lt; 

 tive, and she was sadly in the way ; but, when h 

 put her out, she scuttled directly back again, alway 

 fixing on him a gaze so human and so implorin 

 that he was fascinated by its intensity. In the en 

 she triumphed, and was for seven months his clos 

 and constant companion ; while Moumoutte Blanch* 

 far away in France, drowsed in the sunny garde 

 paths, and dreamed of his return. Propinquity, a 

 we know, is the one sure road to love ; and, durin 

 those seven months, master and cat had rare oppoi 

 tunities for intimate acquaintance. A mdn-of-wa 

 offers few distractions to the growing charms c 

 companionship. 



&quot;I well remember,&quot; writes M. Loti, &quot;the da 

 when our relations became really affectionate. 1 

 was a melancholy afternoon in September. Th 

 first winds of Autumn roughened the sullen sea; 



