e downward, he essayed its insertion in the gaping orifice at
the right hip of his Manila-made, flapping white trousers. It slipped in
without a hitch.

"What was the trouble out there a while ago?" asked the lady of the
house of her liege lord. "You saw it, I suppose?"

"Nothing much. Man had a fit, and it took four men to hold him. Maidie,
look here. Captain Kress handed this to me--said they picked it up just
back of where the colonel stood at parade. Is he another mash?"

Marion took the envelope from the outstretched hand, drew forth a little
_carte-de-visite_, on which was the vignette portrait of her own face,
gave one quick glance, and dropped back on the pillow. All the bright
color fled. The picture fell to the floor. "Can you--find Sandy?" was
all she could say, as, with imploring eyes, she gazed into honest
Brent's astonished face.

"I can, at once," said Stuyvesant, who had risen from his chair at the
colonel's remark. With quick bend he picked up the little card, placed
it face downward on the table by her side, never so much as giving one
glance at the portrait, and noiselessly left the room.

CHAPTER XIII.

Like many another man's that summer and autumn of '98, Mr. Gerard
Stuyvesant's one overwhelming ambition had been to get on to Manila. The
enforced sojourn at Honolulu had been, therefore, a bitter trial. He had
reached at last the objective point of his soldier desires, and with all
his heart now wished himself back on the Sacramento with one, at
least,--or was it at most?--of the Sacramento's passengers. The voyage
had done much to speed his recovery. The cordial greeting extended by
his general and comrade officers had gladdened his heart. Pleasant
quarters on the breezy bay shore, daily drives, and, presently, gentle
exercise in saddle had still further benefited him.

He had every assurance that Marion Ray's illness was not of an alarming
nature, and that, soon as the fever had run its course, her
convalescence would be rapid. He was measurably happy in the privilege
of calling every day to ask for her, but speedily realized the poverty
of Oriental marts in the means wherewith to convey to the fair patient
some tangible token of his constant devotion. Where were the glorious
roses, the fragrant, delicate violets, the heaping baskets of cool,
luscious, tempting grapes, pears, and peaches with which from Saco to
Seattle, from the Sault de Sainte Marie to Southwest Pass, in any city