"Yes, I do, Governor. Civilization means doctors, less suffering, longer life: schools and books: agriculture and better diet: commerce and clothes: churches, and morality--and soap!" The day came when Terry and Deane drove down the San Ramon road where the Governor had preceded them, with Ellis and Susan and a score of the new friends they had made in Zamboanga. Wade had insisted that his spacious bungalow be the scene of their wedding. Even before he had wrought the house into a fairy-land of palm and cadena and hibiscus the great flowered sweeps of lawn and grove set by the sea had been an ideal setting. Ellis, given his choice of functions, had elected to officiate as best man, so the Governor was happy in giving the bride away. Susan cried, as matrons of honor always do, as she stood with them in the fret-work of shadows under the palms which stirred gently in the off-sea breeze. None of those most concerned remembered many of the details of the evening, excepting Matak, who met there a young Moro maid and found her fair. They returned to Zamboanga under enchanting stars, and at nine o'clock they saw Ellis and Susan leave, for they were returning home at once through the Suez, taking steamer first for Borneo and Java. Their own boat left an hour later for Manila, Hong Kong and Nagasaki. Bidding Ellis good-by, Terry woke from the dream in which he had moved through the afternoon. "Ellis, do not sell the shoe store. We may be home in a year, and I'll want to pitch into something." "But you'd never fool with that after--after all this over here!" Terry laughed happily: "You never can tell, Ellis. I am learning lessons every day!" Later, Ellis sought to dry Susan's tears. "Dick, you're a fine lover! After all these years of search for things for Deane you failed to give her a wedding gift!" Terry flushed miserably, for it was true. But Deane thrilled the more happily for the utter absorption in her that had expelled all other things from his mind: she knew that Susan had prompted him to both engagement and wedding rings. From the pier they watched Ellis and Susan at the rail till the altering course of the brilliantly lighted steamer swept them from sight. An hour later their own liner carried them northward through the dark Straits. The deck was deserted, dark. They sat close, in long steamer chairs, watching the mysterious coastline of Mindanao, the shadowy masses of distant mountains that seemed less substance than opaque obstruction of the warm, starry sky. Neither spoke. It was the hour of fullest gratitude, of mutual dedication. The night about them was filled with that humming heard only on a big ship plowing through a calm sea after sundown, the drone of light winds through lofty rigging, the heavy slipping of displaced water, the muffled roar of great engines throbbing in the deep hold.