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CHAPTER VI.
A SCRAP IN MALTA

The lieutenant-commander rubbed his eyes and stared at the little brown man in utter amazement.

"Oto!" he exclaimed at length. "You here?"

"Yes, sir," replied Oto, placing a steaming cup of hot coffee at the right hand of the officer.

"Come round here where I can see you. When did you come on board?"

"This morning, sir, at about three bells."

"Who brought you? Did you swim back?" demanded Rexdale, still mystified.

"No, sir. I came in the Kiku's boat," said Oto, showing his white teeth in a genial smile. "There was fog. The Osprey was going at less than half speed, and the lookouts did not see me. We came very quiet."

"Well, what have you got to say for yourself, any way?" asked Dave, irritated at the boy's self-possession. "Do you know I can put you in irons for deserting the ship?"

The little Jap spread his arms, in deprecation. "Very sorry," said he humbly. "It was all mistake. Captain Osara wanted to give me message. He did not wish me to leave ship. All mistake. So I come back. Captain Osara say he apologise. Here his letter," and he handed a sealed missive to the commander, who impatiently tore open the daintily folded sheet. It was covered with Japanese characters.

"Read it to me," said Dave, handing the letter to Oto, who translated as follows:

"Ship 'Kiku,'

"Royal Navy of Japan.

"To the Honourable

"David Rexdale,

"Commanding U. S. Ship Osprey.

"Am desirous to tender most humble apologies to your august presence for having taken to my ship the man Oto, whom I restore tremblingly to you. Augustly condescend to grant your forgiveness, and accept my joyful congratulation on your august health and the beauty and majesty of your ship.

"Respectful veneration,

"Osara."

"Well," said Rexdale, smiling, in spite of his vexation, at the language of the apology, "what was the message?"

But neither threats nor persuasion could induce Oto to divulge the nature of the communication which had been of sufficient importance to take a naval vessel out of her way and to lead her commander to play such a daring trick – for such it evidently was, in spite of his polite phrases – on a United States war-ship. Oshima in his turn was closely questioned, but professed entire ignorance of the matter.

"I've not a particle of doubt," said Rexdale, talking it over with Staples, "that it has some connexion with the strained relations between Russia and Japan. He's a dangerous fellow to have on board, this Oto, with his skill at gunnery, his high-bred manners, and his mysterious disappearances and appearances. When we reach Hongkong I shall dismiss both Japs. They might get us into a heap of trouble."

Staples quite agreed with Dave, and, with a careful record of the episode in the ship's log, the affair was closed.

Two weeks later the Osprey dropped her anchor off the quay in the inner harbour of Valetta, the principal seaport of Malta. Rexdale's first care was to cable his arrival to the Department; next, to mail his report of the voyage; third, to send a long letter to Hallie, his wife, who would be waiting, even more anxiously than the Secretary of the Navy, to hear from him. At the telegraph office he found a dispatch from Washington, ordering him to hold the Osprey at Valetta until further instructions from the Department. He knew that he would need time for coaling, and informed the other officers of the ship that they would probably spend at least a week at their present anchorage, which had been designated by the harbour-master.

The next two days were busy ones. All hands worked hard and became grimy from head to foot with coal dust. At length the jackies forward heard the welcome order: "Shift into clean blue, the liberty party!" Working in the intense heat of a Mediterranean July, the men had been stripped to their waists. Now they sluiced one another down with the hose, and gladly slipped on their spruce shore-going togs. With strict injunctions to be on board before dark, thirty of the crew were permitted to land.

Midshipman Starr went ashore with Ensigns Liddon and Dobson.

"There's only one thing I want to see," announced Starr, "and that's a real, genuine Maltese cat, proudly standing on her native soil. I suppose the streets are full of 'em." He and Dobson had never before visited the city of Valetta, but "Doc." Liddon was well informed as to its history and attractions, having spent several weeks there before he joined the Naval Academy.

The moment the three young officers set foot on the quay, they were beset by vendors of all sorts of trinkets, especially those of silver filigree-work.

"What sort of money do they use here?" asked Dobson.

"English, of course," replied Liddon. "The island is one of the choicest jewels in the British crown, and – "

"Lend me a dollar's worth of shillings, will you?" interrupted the other, "and tell me about the jewels later, Doc. I want to buy that bracelet for 'the girl I left behind me,' if the price isn't too high."

The seller parted with the pretty ornament for one shilling, and the trio, waving aside the rest of the merchants, moved on.

"Where shall we go first?" asked Liddon.

"Just show me one good cat – " began Bob, earnestly, "and I'll – "

"Oh drop your cats, Bob! Take us to the best view, to begin with, Liddon."

"Well, let's go up to Fort St. Elmo. That overlooks both harbour basins."

"Whew! Hot's the word!" exclaimed Bob Starr, wiping his brow as they gained the ramparts of the old fortress. "Now, while we are cooling off, tell us about this aged ruin which the Osprey could make over into cracked stone for a macadamised road in about five minutes."

"It isn't a ruin yet, young man," said the ensign, taking off his cap to enjoy the breeze, "and the Osprey's rifled four-inch would have to toss a good many shot up here to produce road material, I can tell you. But three hundred-and-odd years ago – in 1565, to be exact – this old fort held off a big fleet and land force for four months. The Knights of St. John defended it in great style. Sultan Solyman, who had driven the Knights from Rhodes thirty-four years before, made up his mind that Malta was too good for them. He brought about a hundred and forty vessels and an army of thirty-odd thousand men, to give them a thorough-going house-warming.

"Were there any cats – " began Starr; but the lecturer proceeded without noticing the interruption.

"These forces were reinforced, if I remember rightly" – (Cries of "Oh, you do! you do!" from the audience) – "were afterwards increased by a lot of corsairs from Algiers and pirates from Tripoli. When the fort seemed on the point of breaking up, after four months' battering, the few Knights that were left entered that little chapel over there, received the rites of the Church – the viaticum– and went out to start on their last journey. They were cut to pieces by the Turks; but two outworks still resisted and fought off the besiegers until help arrived from Sicily. Out of eight or nine thousand defenders, only six hundred were left to join in the Te Deum (you know the Knights were a religious order) as the Turks sailed off."

"O my, look at this!" Starr suddenly broke in. "Isn't she a dear!"

The officers looked up and saw an extremely pretty girl approaching, attended by a maid.

"What on earth is that thing on her head?" queried Dobson under his breath. "It looks like a stu'n'sail!"

"It's a faldetta," said Liddon. "Most of the ladies, the natives, I mean, wear them."

The young men rose from their seats on the bastion, and raised their hats as the girl passed. She flushed and bowed, then looked down demurely, and hurried on.

"What language do they speak?" demanded Bob, hastily. "If I only knew, I could ask her about Maltese – "

"Don't get agitated, my son," said Liddon, calmly, "and don't address any young ladies without an introduction. As for their language, it's a mixture of Portuguese and Arabic – "

"That'll do," groaned Bob, with a heavy sigh. "There's no danger of my breaking out in her native tongue. What's next on the programme?"

"Well, we'll take a stroll through the principal street and visit the Church of St. John, which was built by the Knights a few years after the siege."

The street itself was full of interest to the young Americans. Sauntering along – themselves attracting no little favourable attention in their natty white uniforms – they met cabmen driving their little horses at full speed, English ladies elegantly dressed side by side with the natives in their huge black one-sided hoods, flocks of goats, to be milked at the doors of customers, smart British officers, swarthy-faced Hindoos, and beggars without end.

"This is the Church of St. John," said Liddon, as the naval party entered an imposing portal, flanked by two huge towers. "Here the Knights used to worship, when they were not otherwise engaged – "

"To wit, in fighting!" interpolated Starr. "Well, I must say those old fellows did well whatever they undertook. Look at those marbles and paintings!"

With hushed voices the three young men passed down the long aisle, to one of the chapels where they were shown various relics which, Liddon said, had been held in the deepest veneration by the builders of the church in those strange old days. There were some of the bones of St. Thomas of Canterbury, one of the stones cast at St. Stephen, the right foot of Lazarus, and a thorn from the sacred crown. However sceptical the Americans might have been as to the genuineness of these relics, they showed in their faces and demeanour only their respect for the belief of those who treasured them. A party of tourists came up at the same time, and two or three pretty girls giggled effusively over the objects displayed.

"Come on!" muttered Dobson in disgust. "Let's get out of this. There are times when I'm ashamed of my race!" and turning on their heels the young men left the church.

The gay scenes in the sunny street restored their good humour, and they visited successively a catacomb chapel – where the vaults were ornamented with fantastically arranged bones of departed monks and knights – an old city gate, and some interesting rock-hewn depositories of grain.

"Not a cat yet, except a yellow one that don't count!" murmured Bob sadly, as they turned their steps toward the final great attraction of Valetta, the Governor's Palace, in St. George's Square.

"It was formerly," explained their omniscient guide, "the palace of the Grand Master of the Knights of St. John, and contains some of the principal treasures of the Order. Here is the Armory," he added, as they entered a large hall, containing rows of figures clad in antique armour, and a wealth of weapons and armour of ancient times. Here, too, was the sword, battle-axe, and coat-of-mail of the leader of the corsairs who assisted the Turks in the famous siege of Fort St. Elmo; the trumpet which sounded the retreat of the Knights from Rhodes, in 1523; and a cannon made of a copper tube and wound with tarred rope, used by the Turks, Liddon said, during their siege of that island.

"Compare it with one of the twelve-inch turret rifles on our modern battle-ships!" exclaimed Dobson. "Why, I'd rather have a good navy revolver to fight with than this ropy thing!"

For two or three hours more (a rest being taken at a small restaurant) the officers wandered about the streets of Valetta. Liddon regaled his companions with details of its history, including its capture by Napoleon in 1798, the subsequent two-years siege when the Maltese had risen in revolt against their captors, and its formal cession to the English in 1814.

"It's no use, boys, I'm used up," said Dobson at length. "I'm off for the ship; you can come or stay, as you like."

"Oh, we'll go along, too," said Starr. "I should have left an hour ago, but I wanted to see how long Liddon could keep it up, before the pumps sucked. He'd make his fortune as a filibusterer against an unpopular bill in the Senate!"

They passed along the Strada Reale – "Royal Street" – for the last time, and were just turning down toward the harbour when a slight commotion on the sidewalk ahead attracted their attention. A knot of people had gathered around a group in which some sort of altercation was going on.

"Hold on a minute," cried the midshipman, "let's see what's up."

The three inseparables pushed their way into the crowd, the outer portion of which was composed of good-natured Maltese and a variety of street-loungers. Within this circle were a dozen sailors from a small Russian cruiser in port. They, in their turn, had corralled a couple of small brown men whom their tormentors were hustling rudely as if to provoke a resistance which would afford an excuse for rougher treatment.

The officers from the Osprey simultaneously recognised the victims of this assault, and with a howl of indignation from Bob, and a stern "Stand aside, men!" from Liddon, they pulled off the Russian blue-jackets and took their stand beside the Japanese, who were no other than Oto and Oshima.

"Amerikanski!" snarled the sailors as they noted the uniforms of the intruders and closed in again, while the throng of idlers increased.

"What's the matter, my lads?" said Dobson to the stewards, who seemed in no wise discomposed, but stood quietly awaiting a favourable moment for withdrawal.

"We do no harm," said Oshima, when both had given the naval salute. "These men, these Russians" – (it is impossible to describe the tone of lofty contempt with which he pronounced the word, looking around at the burly tars, each a full head taller than himself) – "they stop us here in the street and call us bad names and dare us to fight – the big men – cowards!"

Perhaps it was fortunate for the little Jap that the Russian sailors could not understand a word of English; but the general tenor of his remarks was only too plain from his tones and gestures. The assailants closed in again with a volley of incomprehensible expletives and unmistakably threatening gestures. Liddon was violently shoved aside. This was more than he could stand.

"Take that, you bully!" he cried, planting a quick, nervous blow straight between the eyes of the fellow who had jostled him.

The man fell over against his comrades – the street was too crowded to allow him to drop outright – and the inner circle enlarged; but only for a moment. The sailors, half of whom were intoxicated, rushed forward with a roar of rage. Before they reached the officers, whose prospects of gaining their ship in safety seemed decidedly poor, Oto spoke a swift word to his chum, and each darted upon a Russian. It was like a terrier charging a bloodhound; but with a lightning-like grasp and twist of the arm the diminutive assailants brought to the ground their bulky adversaries, screaming with pain. Then the Japanese ducked under the arms of the nearest bystanders and disappeared as if by magic.

Another momentary diversion had been effected by this quick and unexpected display of jiu-jitsu, but now the sailors were about to charge again. The unarmed young officers stood on guard, their fists advanced.

"You take that big chap with a black beard, Bob," said Liddon hastily, "and I'll engage the brute next to him. Dob., you look out for the beauty with red hair. Steady, now, fellows, here they come!"

But before the two parties fairly clashed, a ringing shout rent the air.

"Hooroar, byes, it's a scrap!" shouted a jovial voice well known to the Americans. Then the tone changed. "Ah – h – sure it's the darlints of ensigns and the middy from the Osprey! Come on, byes, let 'em have it!"

The officers were glad enough of reinforcements to overlook the slight to their dignified rank on board ship. In a moment the affair was over. Half a dozen Russians were rolling in the dust, while the rest fell back in disorder before the onslaught of the Osprey's jackies, led by Pat Ryan and Dick Scupp, who, it afterwards turned out, had been directed to the spot by Oto, and had rushed ahead with no clear idea of what was the matter until they caught sight of the white duck and gold braid of their own officers' uniforms.

"Down to the boats in a hurry, lads!" shouted Liddon, leading the way, as he heard cries of "Police! Police!" on the outskirts of the throng.

A rush for the quay, and the Osprey men scrambled into their boats, taking the two Japanese with them. The Russians gathered on the steps shaking their fists at the "Amerikanski," but no further harm was done, and in a few minutes the "liberty party," officers and all, were safe on board the gunboat.

"'Twas a lively brush, sir," said Ensign Liddon, reporting the affair to Rexdale; "but I think nothing will come of it. We must keep away, and keep our men away, from Russians just now, when their feeling against Americans is running pretty high."

"Very true," said the lieutenant-commander, smiling. "I'm glad it was no worse. And Oto, Oshima, no more shore leave for you, while the Neva is in port!"

Liddon proved to be right in his conjecture. The police, arriving just too late to witness the affray, and seeing that trouble had arisen between sailors of different nationalities, hardly went through the form of pursuing the participants, and let the whole matter drop; such squabbles being common in every large seaport where war-ships lie in the stream and their crews have liberty ashore.

The Neva sailed for the Baltic two days later, and within a week Rexdale received orders from the Department to proceed eastward. Then came a succession of wonderfully beautiful days and nights on the blue Mediterranean, the Osprey tossing the foam from her stem in showers of sparkling silver, and startling the flying fish that flashed from wave to wave, until the low, tawny shores of Africa came in sight.

"To think that I'm actually gazing upon Egypt!" exclaimed Bob Starr, as he stood on the bridge one fair July morning. "Those are really the 'sands of the desert,' and that scraggy-looking feather-duster is a palm!"

Small vessels with great ruddy lateen sails hovered about the war-ship as she advanced. A shark's black, sickle-like fin drifted carelessly astern while the fierce fish, all alert below the surface, watched for prey.

Now Damietta was reached, and Port Said. The Osprey, awaiting her turn, meekly entered the Canal in the rear of a big Dutch merchant steamer. There was little for the officers or men to do, and they clustered at the rails, and on the quarter-deck, gazing out over the marshes and plains of Egypt – the crew blankly, for the most part; the more highly educated graduates of Annapolis with thoughts of the great, dim Past to which this storied land of the Pharaohs bore silent witness. Here Abraham wandered, from Ur of the Chaldees; across those sands marched the hordes of Rameses II., going up against the Syrians.

Now and then the ship halted in basins cut for the purpose, like railroad sidings, to allow northbound vessels to pass. Nearly every ship was flying the Union Jack, for three-quarters of all the tonnage that passes through the Canal belongs to Great Britain. Next in order of frequency came the French, Dutch, and Germans.

"Sure, it's hungry I am for the Stars and Stripes," said Pat, gazing gloomily at a broad German ensign at Ismalia, half-way across the Isthmus. "I'm tired o' jumpin' lions and two-headed aigles and rid crosses!"

Onward again. Here a little village of mud-huts, with its clump of "feather-dusters," as Bob persisted in calling the palms; there a caravan plodding along the marshes against the sky-line. Flocks of water-fowl faring gracefully over the broad pools gave place to yellow sands, and the sands again to clear green water and sighing reeds.

At last the good ship Osprey emerged from the narrow, lonely, sluggish stream into the sparkling waters of the Indian Ocean.

CHAPTER VII.
O-HANA-SAN'S PARTY

O-Hana-San was to give a party. She announced the fact with pride to her schoolmates, who, with the frankness peculiar to childhood, eagerly demanded invitations. Had they been older, they would have called on the lady who was to entertain, and, after flattering her and making their personal regard for her as prominent as possible, would have brought the conversation round to the party, in order to show that they knew all about it and of course should expect an invitation. Being little girls, they just said, one and all, "Oh, do ask me to come, Hana!"

Miss Blossom (for that is the English equivalent for her name) considered.

"I can only invite twelve," she finally announced. "Twelve girls," she concluded, with a sigh; "no boys."

"Why not?" demanded one of the larger boys, pushing forward. "You must ask me, anyway, Hana!"

O-Hana-San shook her head. "It is not permitted," she said. "I cannot invite you, Oto Owari. Only girls – no boys."

It was after school-hours. The children had been summoned to their tasks by a drum-beat, and at noon they had marched out of the schoolhouse, in orderly fashion, the boys in one division, girls in another. Once beyond the school limits, the two divisions became mixed. O-Hana-San was only nine years old, and Oto, being fifteen (this was about a dozen years before the building of the Retvizan and the cruise of the Osprey) considered that he did her great honour in applying for an invitation to her party. He scowled, at her refusal, and turned away abruptly.

"Come, Oshima," said he, to a comrade a little younger than himself, "let's go down to the shore." When Oto was disturbed in his mind he always wanted to "go down to the shore."

The town where he lived was on the west coast of one of the northern provinces of Nippon, the principal island of the group comprising the Japanese Empire. Oto was the son of one of the leading men of the place. He was a bright, earnest boy, and often, after he had been listening to the talk of his elders, he would gaze across the sea toward that mysterious country Korea, which he had heard his father say was "a dagger, aimed at the heart of Japan." He longed to fight for the Empire, which he adored with all the passionate worship of the true Japanese. He was an adept at seamanship, in a small way, before he was fourteen; perfectly at home in the water or on it; and possessed with an ardent ambition to join the navy which his country was then building up in wonderful new ways, taught by the pale-faced folk of the other hemisphere. His father could give him but little hope of attaining his wishes, for he could not let the lad serve as a common sailor, nor could he afford to give him the higher education necessary for an officer.

Oto's boon companion since childhood was Oshima, the son of a rich family who occupied a handsome villa on the outskirts of the town. Oshima's grandfather had been one of the famous Samurai, who carried two swords. When the edict had gone forth suppressing the order, or depriving it of its essential characteristics, he had joined a band of Samurai who refused to obey the imperial command, and in a fight which followed he had lost his life. Oshima's father was a peaceful man who cared little for war, but the boy himself had inherited his grandfather's love of battle, and made up his mind to enter the army. The two boys talked with each other of their plans and hopes, often and earnestly.

By the time the lads had reached the rocky shore just north of the village, they had forgotten all about little Blossom and her party. O-Hana-San was a great favourite with Oto, it is true, but when once the topic of the navy was raised, all other thoughts fled to the winds.

"Let us swim," said Oshima at length, when several prospective battles had been fought out, on sea and land. "I'm as warm as if I had been marching from Fusan to Seoul – where I shall march some day."

"Go you and swim if you want to," replied Oto. "I have a plan here to work out, for manœuvring a battle-ship in the face of the enemy, with the tide setting out from land, and – "

"Oh, bother your tides!" laughed Oshima. "Here goes for a dip into them. I'll come out in ten minutes."

He was soon in the water at a good distance from shore, gamboling like a porpoise, swimming on his back, treading, and performing all sorts of antics.

Oto had drawn a piece of paper from his pocket and was absorbed in tracing a diagram of a sea-fight. After a while he glanced up carelessly; then he sprang to his feet with a wild cry.

"Come in! come in, Oshima! Quick! There's a shark after you!"

At first Oshima did not understand; but he saw the other's gesture, and looked over his shoulder. There, not a hundred yards away, was the dreaded black fin, glistening in the afternoon sun, drifting rapidly toward him like the sail of a child's toy-boat.

The swimmer struck out for the shore with all his might. He was in a little bay, and Oto, springing down headlong over the rocks, perceived that his friend was a little nearer the southern point of land than the central beach from which he had started.

"Make for the point – the point!" he shrieked, gesticulating wildly.

Oshima veered to the right, and the black fin followed. Oto plunged into the sea and swam straight toward the shark. There was no more shouting now; only two dark heads bobbing in the waves, and the little black sail dancing toward them.

Oshima now began to beat the water with his hands, making a tremendous splashing. The great fish, startled by the commotion, paused, and the ugly fin seemed irresolute. Oshima was now swimming more slowly. Younger than Oto, and far less robust, he was becoming exhausted. Every moment he expected to feel the clutch of those terrible jaws. He struck out madly, but made little progress.

The shark, meanwhile, made up his mind. The new morsel was coming directly toward him, while the first seemed in a fair way of escaping to shallow water if not to the land itself. The monster, with a twist of his tail, turned again and made for Oto, though not very rapidly, for the splashing made the fish wary.

At last the critical moment came. Oto had heard an old pearl-fisher tell of many a battle with the man-eating sharks of the Pacific. As the huge creature began to turn, to seize his prey, the black fin disappeared. Quick as a flash Oto doubled himself in the water and dived. A moment later a red stain dyed the surface of the sea. The boy had drawn a sharp dagger from his belt and stabbed upward as his assailant passed over him.

There was no more battle. The shark had enough of Oto and fled for the depths of the ocean while his victor, watching sharply for his late foe, made his way ashore as swiftly as possible. He found Oshima stretched upon the sand, uninjured but almost unconscious from fright and exhaustion.

It was this incident, the self-forgetful valour of his son's friend, saving the former's life at the peril of his own, that led Oshima's father, a few days afterward, to make the offer that changed the boy's whole life. He proposed to the elder Owari to send Oto at his own expense to any naval school in the world, and educate him for the Japanese navy. Oto chose the United States Naval Academy at Annapolis, as we have seen, and graduated with honour, resigning only to accept a post under his own Emperor.

Oshima meanwhile pursued his studies at the Military Institute in Yokohama, and received in due time his appointment as sub-lieutenant in the Japanese army. Entrusted with an important secret mission a few years later the two comrades went to America, performed their duties faithfully, and, in pursuance of direct orders from high authority, concealed their identity by returning as cabin stewards; the men of the Osprey little dreaming that the meek, gentle "boys" whom they ordered to and fro on menial errands were officers, older and of higher rank than themselves, in the Imperial Army and Navy of Japan.

Thus the party of little O-Hana-San led to important results; for had not Oto applied to her for an invitation, and gone off to the shore sulking because of her refusal, Oshima would not have had his eventful swim, the shark would not have been disappointed in a meal, Oshima's father would not have felt the impulse of gratitude which influenced him to bestow a naval education upon his neighbour's son; in short the Retvizan's plans would never have been laid before the naval secret service authorities of Tokio, nor, in all likelihood, would Dave Rexdale have been so well served, in the absence of his two faithful Japanese stewards, on the outward cruise of the Osprey!

As for O-Hana-San, she had her party, and a gay one it was, as gaiety was reckoned in those parts. The little hostess duly sent out her invitations, and received her guests with all formality. Her dark, glossy hair was drawn back, raised in front, and gathered into a double loop, in which a scarlet bit of scarf was coquettishly twisted. She wore a blue flowered silk kimono, with sleeves touching the ground; a blue girdle lined with scarlet; and a fold of the scarlet scarf lay between her neck and the kimono. On her little feet were white tabi, socks of cotton cloth, with a separate place for the great toe (which was a very small one, nevertheless), so as to allow the scarlet-covered thongs of the finely lacquered clogs, which she wore while she stood on the steps to receive her guests and afterward removed, to pass between it and the smaller toes. All the other diminutive ladies were dressed in the same style, and, truth to say, looked like a company of rather expensive little dolls.

Well, when they were all assembled, she and her graceful mother, squatting before each, presented tea and sweetmeats on lacquer trays; and then they played at quiet and polite little games until dusk, when the party broke up, and O-Hara-San (Spring), O-Yuki-San (Snow), O-Kiku-San (Chrysanthemum), and the rest bobbed nice little bows and said, quite after the fashion of their elders, that "they had had such a nice time," and went home.

In the years that followed, O-Hana-San, the Blossom and the prettiest girl in the town, had but little chance to invite Oto to her parties, nor could the gallant young Japanese take her to the Academy hops; but he wrote to her constantly, and now, as the Osprey cut the waters of the Indian Ocean with her snowy stem, he thought of the dark-eyed Blossom in the far-off little village of Nippon; and, as he tripped to and from the pantry, and returned with delicacies for the cabin table, balancing himself gracefully against the rolling and pitching of the vessel, wondered how soon he should stand before her on the quarter-deck of his own ship, clad in the brilliant uniform of his rank. As for Oshima, he had been waiting eleven years for a good chance to give his life for Oto!