The commander now explained that the _Osprey_ was ordered to proceed to Mare Island, where she would be thoroughly overhauled, renovated, and practically remodelled. She was old-fashioned, but the Department believed they could make of her a valuable defence ship, in accordance with modern ideas of ship-building. As soon as she should go out of commission her officers and crew were to report, some on various war-ships in the eastern Pacific, some for shore duty, and still others, including the three officers of highest rank, at Washington, where they would be assigned to new duties. Bob's face fell a little at this announcement, but he was happy in the thought of a change, and a sojourn in home waters. Little Dobson was one of those who were to go on shore, and he had visions of a leave of absence which would give him time to race across the continent to his own home and that of a certain commandant whose daughter was named Mary. By the next mail letters went to Wynnie and Edith Black, from Bob Starr and Liddon respectively. It is needless to say that Dave wrote to Hallie within two hours after the receipt of the orders. The news quickly spread through the ship, and great was the rejoicing. While the Russian fleet was irresolutely moving to and fro in Eastern waters, and Linevitch, having succeeded Kouropatkin, was reorganising his shattered army and preparing for a new encounter with the victorious Oyama south of Harbin, the women of Japan worked unceasingly for home and country. The great military hospital at Hiroshima comprised eight divisions, with a total capacity of seventeen thousand beds. In the largest of the divisions a visitor merely passing the foot of each bed would walk six miles. Nearly all of these beds were now occupied, and Red Cross nurses from the United States passed to and fro among the sufferers, side by side with their dark sisters of the Orient, in gentlest ministration. Fred Larkin had soon recovered sufficiently to be removed to private quarters, from which, pale and emaciated, but with indomitable pluck and returning energy, he emerged a few weeks later. Letters from the _Bulletin_ recalled him to Massachusetts, and he unwillingly obeyed, realising that the great naval battle was close at hand. He read the news of the destruction of the Russian fleet the day after his arrival in San Francisco. In a small room--one of those set apart for officers--a Japanese soldier lay on a cot bed, gazing languidly out of the open window toward the east. Walls, counterpane, and the single garment--a kimono--which the patient wore, were of spotless white. Beside the bed sat a little nurse, fanning the sick man, who now and then spoke to her in his own language, though so quietly that his attendant could scarcely hear him. "O-Hana-San----" "Yes, Oshima, I am here!" "The time?" "It is morning--five o'clock." The sick man was silent for a few moments. Then his eye fell upon a streak of gold which fell upon the wall.