Apparently there were no words in the Tagalo dialect strong enough to express the girl’s admiration. Simplicia tossed her head, loosening the hair, a frequent happening. She caught the heavy tresses quickly, and almost forgot for an instant everything but the last time they had fallen. “Are you not pleased?” asked the other girl, in astonishment. She was dark, and not pretty from any point of view. “Oh, yes,” drawled Simplicia, “but Ramon is very tedious sometimes, and the lake country is very dreary. We will go into the city this afternoon and see the Americanos.” They saw many Americanos--State volunteers clad in blue shirts and khaki trousers. The city was full of them. They occupied all the barracks formerly the quarters of the Spanish soldiers, and they crowded the drinking-resorts. Along the Calle Real they came upon companies drilling, and on the Lunetta they saw an entire regiment on dress-parade. Simplicia, though she scanned every soldier’s face, did not see the stranger of the previous night, nor did she see a face that seemed nearly as handsome. “They say,” mused the other girl, “that the men of Aguinaldo will drive these Americanos out of Manila if they do not go of their own accord soon.” Simplicia laughed scornfully, and pointed toward the troops. The men were in battalion front, standing at “present,” and the sun glistened on a thousand bayonets. “But there are only a few Americanos and there are many thousands of Filipinos,” said the girl. “The Americanos will take what they want and nothing can stop them,” announced Simplicia, decisively. “Let us go to our _cascos_.” * * * * * The twilight gathered on the river. In the north the sky was lit by continuous flashes of lightning. Myriads of stars were overhead, and the Southern Cross was viceroy of the heavens, for the moon had not yet come into her kingdom. The water noisily gurgled by, and Simplicia waited. Which would come first, the tedious Filipino school-master lover or the stranger? Would the Americano come again? She watched every canoe that passed, but they were all going up or down. The moon appeared and clearly revealed the river’s surface. Simplicia fixed her eyes on the shadow of the Cuartel Infanteria. Something emerged from it and glided rapidly through the stream. It was a canoe, and it was being paddled with strong, sure strokes toward her. Her heart beat tumultuously, and she almost cried out in her delight. He came, and, fastening his canoe, swung himself aboard the _casco_. Her arms were about his neck in an instant, and her beautiful tresses escaped the comb again. They sat in the shade of the _nipa_ thatch talking in low tones. His arm was round her waist. Her head rested on his shoulder. He puffed with deep breaths of enjoyment a cigarette that she had daintily lit for him. The intoxication of the country was in his brain--the devil that whispers, “There is nothing but pleasure, and no time but now.”