“They are coming,” Maria whispered in a startled voice. “Lie down and for your life do not speak.” The next second all was again blackness. The lads and their companions had noiselessly thrown themselves down on the floor and were holding their breath in an agony of suspense. The cool handle of Phil’s revolver, which he had unconsciously drawn from its holster, brought back his confidence. At least they would not die without some injury to their enemy. Again came the flash of light; it flickered and seemed on the point of extinction, and then continued dimly. Phil recognized that this time the match had not gone out in the room over which their gallery looked, and that a candle was dimly burning. Then another and another candle was lighted and little by little the great room was exposed to their view. Figures of men could be seen clustered about a table in the far end of the hall, some seated in chairs, but most of them on the ground in native fashion, while beyond the table was a niche in which an image glittered. The midshipmen soon discovered that it was an exaggerated emblem of the Katipunan society which they had seen on insurgent flags; the sun within a flaming triangle, all of pure silver. A noise of feet and guarded voices came to their ears as the room slowly filled with men. As the light from the many candles shone upon their faces the anxious watchers saw that each man was masked. After an interminable interval of time all was hushed and a man arose from a seat near the symbol of the society and beckoned one of the others to approach. Phil felt the girl beside him tremble violently, and give a sharp gasp of pain. “Garcia,” she breathed, “my father’s trusted friend.” “Our unknown brother,” the leader said in Spanish, which Phil was to learn was the accepted language of the society, “has been summoned to join our society; his name is recorded secretly in the recording book; his number is one thousand and ten.” The leader then drew from his scabbard a sharp glistening bolo and circled it with the adroitness of a juggler about the head of the newly enrolled member. Gradually one after another of the masked natives arose, their keen-bladed bolos held aloft, while in single file they moved slowly with a rhythmical dancing step toward the silent “one thousand and ten.” As they advanced a weird chant broke from twoscore throats. It was not loud, but the volume filled the high vaulted chamber and lent an uncanny air to the mysterious initiation. It seemed to Phil as he watched, his eyes fairly bulging from their sockets, that the unfortunate man would surely be severed into a thousand pieces by these fierce, savage fanatics, but he stood silent, his arms folded across his breast, while his eyes gleamed in exultant excitement. Slowly the members danced by their new comrade and returned to their seats. Then the new member, by sign from the leader, advanced and prostrated himself before the emblem.