"No one in j.a.pan could do it to-day," spoke up another of the j.a.panese officers, Toruma by name. "That medallion comes from the most brilliant period of Satsuma art."

In that face the paler flesh tints had been laid, with wonderful minuteness of detail, from flawless mother of pearl. The hair, which stood out in life-like accuracy, had been worked in some highly polished blue-black stone. The teeth, as they showed in the parted lips of that tiny miniature, were real seed pearls, worked in the exact shapes of the teeth represented.

The most striking feature of all was the beautiful red lips of the tiny mouth. This red had been laid in fine rubies, not showing separately, but blended delightfully.

For fully two minutes Darrin gazed at the miniature face, fascinated with the beauty of the thing. Dan, standing by, admired it also.

"Now, try the effect of this magnifying gla.s.s on the face," suggested Carter.

"It would be almost wicked to hold a magnifying gla.s.s over such a treasure," protested Ensign Dave, recoiling slightly, as though from a profanation of an art treasure.

"Try the gla.s.s; don't be afraid," said Carter.

So Dave took the gla.s.s, focusing it over the wonderful medallion. A cry of wonder escaped the young ensign's lips.

"Can you find the slightest appearance of roughness under the gla.s.s?"

asked the American diplomat.

"I cannot," Dave confessed.

"Think of the wonderful work of the artist," suggested Toruma, "who, in an age when magnifying gla.s.ses were unknown, could join all the parts of that inlaying so perfectly."

"It is wonderful," murmured Dave. "The artist's eyes must have been as keen as any magnifying lens."

For some minutes more Darrin examined the medallion, both with the gla.s.s and without. The j.a.panese, smiling and affable, stood enjoying his very evident pleasure. Their hearts warmed to a foreigner who could feel such real appreciation of the marvels of the ancient art of their country.

"Here, I am afraid that you had better take this from me," begged Darrin laughingly, at last. "If it is much longer in my possession I shall be under a temptation to commit grand larceny."

Smiling, Lieutenant Katura held out his hand to receive the treasure.

"It has been in our family for at least six hundred years," he explained proudly, though without any sign of boastfulness. "It belongs to my mother."

"I should think you would be afraid of its being stolen," suggested Dave.

"Ordinarily it is kept in the Okugawa Bank, in our family vault,"

explained the little lieutenant. "Once Mr. Carter saw the medallion, at our home, and to-day he begged me to bring it here to show to some of his friends. I am glad to have been honored with an opportunity to give you pleasure by the sight of it."

"But surely you don't carry such a treasure loosely in your pocket like that," Dave almost protested.

"Why not?" smiled Katura.

"Are you not afraid of its being stolen?" Darrin went on.

"Not likely," declared the little lieutenant. "I am able to defend myself, and I shall have my friends with me on my trip back to the Okugawa Bank."

"But pickpockets might brush against you in a crowd, and take it from you," Dave hinted.

"They will not have that chance," smiled Katura. "From here to the bank my friends and I will go in jinrikishas."

As the tiffin (luncheon) hour drew near, the club rooms began to fill.

There were, perhaps, a hundred newcomers.

"You'll come to our table, Darrin?" asked Mr. Carter.

"I thank you, and under any other circ.u.mstances I would," Dave answered. "My wife will be expecting me at the hotel. She and I have not had many opportunities to lunch together since I entered the service. So I shall have to be going along soon."

"You'll stay, Dalzell?" asked the diplomat.

Dan decided that he would. The j.a.panese officers were invited to remain, but replied that they had duties claiming their attention.

So Dave left with Lieutenants Katura, Toruma and Hata. In the main corridor these departing ones found themselves somewhat delayed, owing to the press of the crowd about one of the coat-rooms.

At last they got through. A j.a.panese attendant, saluting the three officers of his own country, ran nimbly to the end of the porch, striking his hands together and summoning three jinrikisha men, who raced up to the steps.

"Farewell, for an hour or two, at least, American brother in arms,"

cried Toruma, the most talkative of the three j.a.panese. Friendly salutes were exchanged, and the j.a.panese trio were rushed away.

Dave's jinrikisha came around. In appearance it was an exaggerated baby-carriage, with shafts, between which a stout j.a.panese coolie played the part of a horse.

These curious little street vehicles are comfortable, and the seasoned coolie in the shafts often displays great speed. The slowest he is allowed to travel on short journeys, when he has a fare in his 'riksha, is five miles an hour.

"To the Imperial Hotel," said Dave briefly. That was all that was needed. The human "horse" in the shafts would do the rest.

In a few minutes Dave arrived at the big, handsome Imperial Hotel. This hostelry, famous among travelers in the East, is an imposing white pile, built originally by the j.a.panese government, that travelers might be sure of having a stopping place as comfortable as any in the lands from which they came. Bit by bit the management bought over the government's interest in the hotel, until now it is privately owned, though the pride of the j.a.panese is such that the government still supervises the hotel, and sees to it that the high standard is kept up.

As Dave Darrin entered he pa.s.sed into one of the parlors at the entrance. Belle rose and came forward, a glad little cry on her lips.

"How thankful I am that I thought of coming to Yokohama!" she cried.

"It was but a step to Tokio. And you are punctual."

"It is one of the virtues-or vices-of an officer and a gentleman,"

Darrin laughed, as he bent over to kiss her.

"And now are you ready for tiffin, dear?"

"I shall be as soon as I have made my toilet," Dave replied. "May I have your indulgence that long?"

"Certainly."

Going below Ensign Darrin washed off the dust of his forenoon's wanderings, smoothed back his hair, and with a final look in the gla.s.s drew on his coat and started above.

Dave was now in about the middle of a three-weeks' leave, which Dalzell had taken at the same time. In the Navy service an officer does not have, regularly, one day in every seven on which he is free from toil.

He is on duty, day and night, seven days a week. By way of leisure he is allowed a certain portion of every month, when practicable, in the way of "leave." When an officer has no especial use for leave, he often allows it to acc.u.mulate, and then later on secures a long enough leave to use up his privileges in the way of absence from duty. So Dave was now on a three-weeks' leave-a "vacation" it would be called in civil life.

Several other officers from the "Katahdin" were in either Yokohama or Tokio. The former city, only a few miles from the latter, is the port of entry for the j.a.panese capital. In the harbor at Yokohama the American flagship now lay.

Up to the present Darrin had devoted most of his waking time to escorting Belle through the bewildering j.a.panese shops, to Uyeno Park, to the j.a.panese theatres, to the famous temples, and all the other sights that attract tourists.

But this forenoon Darrin had spent in going about Tokio, meeting a few of the people whom he had known in other parts of the world. There was Lieutenant Anstey, one of d.i.c.k Prescott's West Point chums, now on duty at the American Emba.s.sy; there were naval officers, and two or three men in the diplomatic service. Dave had even called at the j.a.panese Navy Department to shake hands with two j.a.panese officers whom he had met in Europe. These latter two were absent, and Dave, leaving cards, had promised to return in the afternoon.