e
she was an adept.

Impatiently she awaited the arrival of the American fleet. She heard
the Spaniards discuss among themselves the cowardice of the American
soldiers, and saw them wager the Dewey would not come to Manila at all
but that he would sail down around the Malay Peninsula and hasten home
by way of Good Hope to save his vessels from certain destruction. All
this sounded plausible to her and she grew restless and enthusiastic
as the dull hours dragged away.

Dewey was so long in coming from Hongkong and the garrison on the
island had been kept at their guns ready for action for so many hours
without rest that many of them were completely tired out by the last
day of April, and asked for relief. It was hard to give it. Marie's
opportunity had come. Her ability as an expert rifle shot was known
alike to officers and enlisted men. She offered to serve. The Spanish
commandant could not well refuse. He needed her services; besides,
the Spaniards were just then doing all within their power to win the
temporary friendship of the natives. Consequently, he promised to
assign her to duty for the night.

The sunset, as viewed from Corregidor Island on the evening of
April 30, was most glorious. Not a cloud was in the sky; a dead calm
prevailed, so that the sea was unusually smooth. As the sun sank to
rest behind the shimmering horizon it caused the island to cast a
long shadow over Manila bay as far as the eye could reach, but this
soon disappeared.

When the sun had sunk from view, Marie noticed that a comparatively
new moon was visible in the sky, and she remarked to the Sergeant
of the Guard, "It will not be very dark to-night. We can see the
Americanos a long way off."

"Yes," replied the Sergeant, "the only difficulty with the cowards is
that they will not come near enough to be seen at all. They have had
plenty of time to run from Hongkong to Manila and back again; still
they have not been seen or heard of. I'll bet you a peso (Spanish
dollar) that they have gone home and that all of this excitement has
been for nothing. Dewey is getting old, Marie; he doesn't want to go
to a watery grave so far from home. If he were young and ambitious,
it would be different. Old men do not care much about real fighting,
especially on the sea. It is different with old generals commanding
land forces. They can sit away back in the rear of the battle-field,
receive messages that come to them; plan certain movements based upon