About a week after the departure of the young men the Blacks called at the War Office, Bellardo following meekly in their train. As it happened, no one was in the room but the orderlies, who gave the party to understand that their superiors had been called out, but would return soon. "Oh, we can't wait," said Edith impatiently. "But it's our last visit, really a call of ceremony, girls," protested their adopted uncle, as he called himself. "It will hardly be courteous to leave without seeing one or both of these gentlemen who have been so polite to us." "I'll write a line and leave it for them," said Wynnie impulsively. "We've lots to do, Uncle, and we can't waste time, you know, in our last day in Tokio. They may not come back for hours." She took the chair of one of the officials, looked about for pen and ink, and began writing hurriedly on a blank sheet which lay on the top of a pile of documents. The orderlies gazed in bewilderment at the pretty vision of the girl in a picture hat, occupying the chair of their venerated head of department. Before Wynnie could finish her note, however, the owner of the chair appeared, with profuse apologies for his delay. Wynnie crumpled up the slip of paper upon which she was writing, and dropped it into the waste-basket as she rose to pay her respects to the war official. The rest of the party advanced and joined in the mutual farewells and regrets. As they stood by the desk, Edith was surprised to see the Spaniard stoop, take Wynnie's half-written note from the basket, and bestow it in an inner pocket. "How sentimental!" she thought, rather contemptuously. She started to speak to her sister about it, on the way home, but something in the street took her attention, and she forgot all about it. The Blacks had expected to leave next morning for Yokohama, where they were to go on board a steamer for Hawaii and San Francisco. In the disturbed state of affairs on the Chinese coast, Colonel Selborne had concluded not to risk inconvenience or danger, and to give up the rest of the trip. Early in July the whole party would be at home once more. But their plans were interrupted by an unforeseen and astounding incident. It was no less than the detention of all four by the Japanese Government. They had hardly reached the hotel, on their return from the War Office, when a dapper little gentleman stepped up to the Colonel and said a few words in a low tone. "What!" exclaimed the American. "Impossible. We start for home to-morrow morning. Edith," he added, turning to his young guests, who were just behind with Señor Bellardo, "this man says we are not to leave the hotel till further notice. Special orders from the War Office!" "Why, what can be the reason? What has happened?"