Phil solemnly told of the sad fate of Lieutenant Tillotson and the general shook his head mournfully. “Maybe it is better so,” he whispered half to himself, but to Phil, standing close by, these words from the old soldier’s heart came distinctly. A detail of men carried the body of the dead officer across the battle-field, and as they passed solemnly through the joyful troops who had collected to cheer the white-haired veteran, the soldiers became suddenly silent as their eyes fell upon the stretcher and were told the identity of that figure underneath the flag. None had reverenced the officer in life, but in death all were anxious to render respect. Phil told the general of the pitiful plight of Lieutenant Tillotson, and of the cruel manner of his death, and generously praised the doubtful courage of the army man. “It’s a glorious end for a soldier,” General Wilson murmured. “I have always felt that I could welcome it, and now,” he added disappointedly, “I shall probably die in my bed like an ordinary citizen. My career is almost over; in another year I shall have left active service behind.” While the general and his party climbed down the difficult trail to reach the gunboat at anchor in the river below them, Lopez and Garcia with their trusty company had nimbly descended the almost precipitous side of the mountain and were eagerly following the trail of the fleeing insurgent and his ill-gotten spoils. The “Mindinao” steamed fearlessly down the river, her flag at half-mast in honor of those whose mortal remains lay covered on the quarter-deck; the soldiers who had given their lives in the attack on the most formidable of insurgent strongholds. Phil and O’Neil were given prompt attention by the surgeon and several ugly wounds were carefully dressed. Phil was glad to relinquish his command to Sydney and remained luxuriously in his cot. At Rodriguez’s ranch the gunboat stopped and reverently landed the dead heroes, to be buried in the cemetery, and here General Wilson and his adjutant-general disembarked to return to Palilo by road. Just as the “Mindinao” started ahead, after landing her passengers, on its way to the mouth of the river, a native canoe paddled rapidly from the landing, and ran up alongside of the gunboat. An excited hail came from its occupant, answered by an angry cry from Major Lukban who turned, his face deathly pale, and his hands trembling, to the midshipmen at his side. “Señorita Maria is missing,” he gasped. The midshipmen were stunned at the suddenness of this unexpected and disquieting news. Maria captured! What did it mean? Lukban declared that his first duty was to his young mistress and the lads heartily approved of his desire to be landed to attempt to trail the lost girl and her brother. The excited native was brought on board from his canoe and told the eager men the meagre details of her loss.