ened and called Zura by name. Even then it was a
toss-up whether he could win out against despair. Uppermost in his mind
was ever the torturing thought of the thing that had made him a
fugitive.

An icy hand was laid upon our joy at the signs of returning health when
we remembered a certain ship that was right then cutting the blue waters
of the Pacific nearing the shores of Japan, bearing authority to make a
prisoner of Page if he lived. They were not happy days, and it was with
undefined emotions that I saw life and strength come slowly to the sick
man.

By daily visits Kobu kept himself advised of the patient's condition,
and kept us informed of the swift approach of the Vancouver steamer and
its dreaded passenger. One day, when Page was sleeping and our anxiety
as to what was coming had reached the breaking point, the detective
came. He announced that he had received information that the steamer had
docked at Yokohama that morning. In the afternoon the Chicago Bank
representative would arrive at Otsu, our nearest railroad station. Kobu
said he would bring the guest to our house at once and his kind wish
that Page San's "sicker would soon be healthy" did not wholly hide the
triumph of his professional pride.

He went his way to the station, leaving behind him thoughts sadder than
death can bring.

When I told Jane what we were to expect her pale eyes were almost
drowned. She looked frail and tired, but from somewhere a smile made
rainbows of her tears.

"Don't give up, Miss Jenkins. No use crying over cherry blossoms before
they wither. Kobu's human enough to be mistaken. Detectives aren't so
smart. Sometimes they tree a chipmunk and think it's a bear."

It was the nearest I'd ever heard Jane come to a criticism, and I knew
she felt deeply to go this far.

Zura listened quietly to what I had to tell. But her eyes darkened and
widened. "You mean they are coming to take Page away?"

"Yes; as soon as he is strong enough."

"Then I am going with him."

"Go with him? You, a young girl, go with a man who is in charge of an
officer? It's impossible. I pray God it's not true, but if the law can
prove that Page has sinned, he will have to pay the penalty in prison.
You can't go there."

"No, but I can wait outside, and be ready to stand by him when he is
released. No matter how guilty the law declares him, he is still the
same Page to me. He's mine. I belong to him. Did not my own mother think
home and country