Bob could not speak. There was a moment of silence. The dying man gasped painfully. "Taru," he murmured. "Taru—sayonara!" His head sank. Taru waited a few moments; then, lifting Kobo’s hand, he rose saying: "Be at peace, dear master." *CHAPTER XXVI* *Old Friends and New Prospects* Compulsory Leave—Andrew B. Charteris—Looking Ahead—The Busy Bee—Smuggling Ah-Sam—Schwab Proposes—A Blessing Kobo was buried in a glade among the trees near the fort. Bob placed over the grave a stone from the ravine—a flat slab washed smooth and white by the torrent; and upon this Taru scratched a simple inscription in Japanese characters. The chief meanwhile had sent men to find the body of Chang-Wo. What indignities the already mangled corpse might have suffered but for Bob’s presence need not be told; Bob insisted on a decent burial, and made the chief promise that the grave should not be desecrated. The dead man’s effects were thoroughly examined, and a discovery was made which threw light on a matter always puzzling to Bob—the presence of Chang-Wo in Tokio. Among his belongings were many papers, charts, and maps of Japan and the surrounding seas, plans of the Japanese ports, memoranda of military details—all probably intended for Russian use in an invasion of the islands, and kept by the Manchu until he could depend on getting a good price for them. These Bob made into a bundle; then he prepared to return with Taru and Ah-Sam to the Japanese head-quarters. A few days later the services of one of the army doctors with General Kuroki’s force were required for a young Englishman who had just been brought into camp by four coolies, led by a Japanese and a Chinaman. Sunstroke had laid Bob low on the day after leaving the fort. The unusual exertions which he had undergone since his adventure with the Cossacks had tried his constitution more than he was aware, and the final excitement and strain of Kobo’s rescue had left him too weak to withstand the effect of the sudden heat. He was unconscious when he reached General Kuroki’s quarters, and the doctor who examined him looked grave. It was some days before he came fully to himself, and then the doctor, though he foretold a complete recovery, declared that it would be a matter of time and rest, and emphatically forbade Bob to think of active service for months to come. "But I must get back to the fleet," protested Bob. "I’m a kind of deserter, and though I couldn’t help being captured, and everything else has followed from that, I sha’n’t be able to help feeling guilty when I report myself to Admiral Togo." "You’ll do nothing of the kind. We’re a long way from the coast; in any case we can’t spare a cruiser to carry you to Port Arthur; and if we could, I shouldn’t allow you to go." "What’s to become of me, then? I can’t follow the army; and I’m sure I don’t want to be left behind in a Manchurian village."