A death-like stillness reigned in the street, and no one imagined that the rats were assembling, that the underground passages were full of them, and that it only needed a sign to bring the swarming masses to the surface. A cold breeze from the sea swept through the deserted streets and a misty veil enveloped the yellow light of the gas-lamps. The lanterns hanging in front of the Chinese cellars were extinguished one by one, and everyone apparently turned in. The fog became thicker and thicker, and covered the pavement with moisture. Suddenly the door of Hung Wapu's cellar squeaked; it was opened cautiously and a low clatter came up from below. Thirty dark forms crept slowly up the steps, one after the other, and without a word they began their march. Ten houses farther on a similar detachment poured out of the other Chinese cellar and joined their ranks. The gas-lamps shed a dull, yellowish-red light on the gun-barrels of the Japanese company, which was marching down to the docks. Two thousand steps farther on it had become a battalion, which marched rapidly in the direction of the barracks of the Fifth Regiment of regulars in the old Presidio. At the next corner the leader of the battalion unobtrusively saluted a man in uniform who stepped suddenly out of a doorway. A few Japanese words were exchanged in a low tone. "This is an unexpected ally," said the Japanese colonel, holding out his hand in the dense fog. Four o'clock struck from the tower of the Union Ferry Depot, and out from the sea, from the Golden Gate, came the bellowing voice of a steamer's whistle. The two officers looked at each other and smiled, and the troops continued their march. "Halloo!" shouted a roundsman to a policeman who had been leaning against a lamp-post half asleep. "Halloo, Tom, wake up! Who are those fellows over there; where the deuce are they going?" Tom opened his eyes, and up on the hill, a few blocks away, he could faintly distinguish through the thick fog the outline of a group of rapidly moving soldiers. "I guess they are some of our boys taking part in the naval maneuver. You know, Perry's going to attack us to-day." "Well, I didn't know that," replied the roundsman. "They're great boys, all right; up and about at four in the morning." Just then the angry bellow from a steamer's whistle came across the water and abruptly ended this early morning conversation. "I suppose that's Perry now," said Tom. "Well, he can't do much in this beastly fog, anyway." "So long, Tom," answered the roundsman curtly as he slowly proceeded to resume his interrupted rounds.