Helen’s eyes were directed out upon the garden, the dimly lighted walks of which were already dotted with white shadowy figures from the ballroom. A moment later Phil and Helen had left the two naval officers deep in their discussions, and walked out together into the garden. They walked silently, admiring the illumination made with row after row of delicately tinted Japanese lanterns. “We looked for you and Mr. Monroe this afternoon,” she said as they reached the seats of a small pagoda from which they could look out upon the fairy-like scene about them. “You can’t say you didn’t know it,” she added pointedly, noticing the look in Phil’s face, “for I told Mr. Monroe of it myself.” The midshipman hesitated in some confusion. He saw that he must take Helen into his confidence, or seem extremely rude to his ambassador’s daughter. “We were on the way,” Phil explained, “in Mr. Impey’s motor car, when we ran over a Japanese messenger. Afterward it was so late and we were both so agitated that we went directly to the hotel.” Helen showed her interest and sympathy for the victim in many rapid questions, and Phil thereupon told her the story. “Mr. Impey will not be here to-night,” she said, after Phil had finished his recital. “I had a note from him before leaving home, in which he said he would be detained on business.” She was glancing as she spoke at her dance card: the music had again started, and the dancers were moving toward the ballroom. “This dance is his,” she added as Phil made a movement to stand, expecting Helen would also return to the ballroom. “Are you engaged for it?” she asked. “No, I’m very glad to say.” “Then if you don’t mind we shall stay here; it’s too beautiful to go inside.” Helen regarded the young man with anxious eyes as she suddenly asked a question which had been long in her thoughts. “Why has the ‘Alaska’ come to Japan?” Phil looked up, surprise in his face at the sudden turn in the conversation. “I am sure I don’t know,” he replied honestly; “just a regulation visit of courtesy, I suppose. Why do you ask?” “Do you believe in the Japanese? Are they honestly our friends?” she asked another question for an answer to his. “I believe they are,” Phil replied thoughtfully. “Our misunderstandings are caused by the great gulf between the two races. The Japanese understand us much better than we do them.” “Do you think a war is likely?” she exclaimed impatiently, not wholly satisfied at Phil’s indirect answer. “Not likely,” he replied quietly, “but always possible. Miss Helen, there are people here in Tokyo, men of influence, who are working to bring on war between Japan and our country.” Helen’s blue eyes opened in alarm. “What do you mean?” she asked in an excited whisper. Phil told her of the conversation he had heard on the train and also of the letter for the “Shimbunshi.” Her face now was rosy with eagerness.