ock. Along the north and west sides of this rock is a
vertical stone precipice some eight feet high, which from its upper
edge inclines back gradually at an angle of about twenty degrees
above a horizontal plane, toward the crest of the island.

On this rock Spain firmly bolted one of her most modern cannon--a
good seven-inch gun. It was so situated on a revolving casement that
its shots could be made to sweep the whole Boca Grande channel, as
the large entrance south of the island is called. Marie had often
operated this gun. She had done splendid work with it on a floating
target two miles distant. Its deadly roar was her delight. Oh! if
she could but use it just once on an actual enemy instead of firing
it at an indicated one!

When the old guard had been relieved and the sentries were marched
back to the guard-house to be dismissed, poor Marie, heavy hearted,
marched along. Just as they approached the guard-house, the sergeant
motioned to her to fall out and to come toward him. This she did.

Into her ear he whispered the information that was to start her on her
eventful military career. "Marie," said he, "the officer of the Guard
informs me that we cannot use you in the infantry service tonight,
but that you will be needed with the artillery."

"Good!" exclaimed Marie, "Where shall I serve?"

"At the new gun on the large rock near the spring," answered the
Sergeant.

"Thank heaven!" said Marie. "Dewey will surely come, and when I put
a solid shot through the 'Olympia' just below the water line--the
battle will be half over. Oh! I'm so anxious! May I go down there
tonight and take charge of the gun at once?"

The Sergeant told her to report to the headquarters of the artillery
department where she would receive instructions.

At last she found herself on actual duty. How her young heart throbbed
as her black eyes peered forth into the darkness. Toward midnight,
small clouds began to drift oceanward. For a few moments at a time
they would obscure the quartered cheek of the young moon. Oh! if
Dewey would but come. The hopes of a life-time were poised on that
painful "if." Before her was the dream of glory; behind her, the
dreary forgetfulness of the past. Hour after hour whiled away. The
tiny lights in the natives' shacks along the opposite shore began to
go out and grow fewer and fewer until the closing day had died safely
away into the solemn night. As usual, "taps" were blown at ten o'clock
and things on