It had been ten years since I left there in the "days of the empire" and everything in me quivered with longing to revisit the place where I spent my golden period of adventure.

We booked on the old _Yuen Sang_, a friend of former days, and the skipper, Captain Percy Rolfe, handsome, cultured, and capable, was still in command.

He loves the China Sea and has steadfastly refused to be lured away by offers of greater ships and more important commands.
When we engaged our passage the agent warned us that the vessel was carrying a cargo of naphtha and kerosene and that we might not wish to risk it; but we went.

A Jap and a Chinaman were the only two other passengers, and they were invisible during the sixty hours to cross.
We steamed out of Hongkong in a chilling wind and at once plunged into a fog, but the next morning we ran into smooth seas and warm weather.

A full moon hung over the empty waste of waters and the nights were gorgeous.
As we neared the coast of Luzon I became much excited, for in my memory were those vivid, expectant days of old when our little American fleet crossed this selfsame stretch of sea to find and destroy the Spanish ships.