When we lazily drifted in toward Corregidor from the China Sea that morning, it was light enough to see distinctly for nearly an hour before the sun rose.
Presently a fluttering string of signal flags appeared on the top of the island, and a moment later our engines resumed their throbbing and we headed boldly into Boca Chica.

Here on the left was Mariveles Bay, the scene of the famous German ship, _Irene_, incident, which electrified the world.
Every point that rose before my eyes was pregnant with historic memories and suggestions.

I was thrilled and yet I half-dreaded my return to Manila, for fear that the peace and commercialism of the present days would be disappointing to one who knew it when each day was filled with trouble and threats of trouble; when the city lay always as if under an impending cloud and when the borders of the bay rang with the thunder of guns and the sputter of musketry.
As the _Yuen Sang_ steamed across the twenty-five miles of the bay it seemed as if it were only yesterday that I had been there.

The waters were glassy and smooth, just as the bay used to be every morning of the long blockade, when the air was still and the broad glistening water was tranquil and at rest.
The surprises came in Manila.

Great changes had taken place in the harbor, new breakwaters were where there had been none before, new buildings were up, and still more were building.