high French heels. Could any one but an American, he soliloquized, be
guilty of starting on a journey in such a costume?

The prospect of being imprisoned between decks for four weeks, with
this heterogeneous collection appalled him. His only safety lay in
maintaining a rigid and uncompromising aloofness. He would discourage
all advances from the start, he would promptly nip in the bud the first
sign of intrusion. He had left the only country an Englishman regards as
the proper place for existence, to cross two abominable seas and an even
more abominable continent, for the sole purpose of privacy, and privacy
he meant to have at all costs.

As the _Saluria_ weighed anchor and steamed out of the Golden Gate,
he went below to see that his valet had made satisfactory disposition of
his varied belongings. His state-room was at the end of a short passage
leading from the main, one, and he was displeased at finding the deep
ledge under the passage window completely filled with flowers and fruit
that evidently belonged to some one occupying a room in the same passage.

He rang for the cabin-boy.

"Remove that greengrocer's shop!" he commanded peremptorily. "It is
abominably stuffy down here. We can't have the port-holes filled up like
that, you know."

The bland face of the young Chinaman assumed an expression of mild
inquiry.

"Take away!" ordered Percival, resorting to gesture.