The blue-jackets of the Kushiro, at the instigation of her executive, gave the departing visitors three cheers as the men let fall their oars. Sam Bolles and Dick Scupp, who happened to be in the boat's crew, stared, with open mouths, at the Japanese commander, who nodded to them in a friendly way. A few minutes later the foam gathered under the Osprey's bows as she bore off toward China, and the Kushiro, making a graceful turn, headed toward Nagasaki, both vessels dipping their colours in salute.
The news which he had heard affected Oto deeply, but he let no sign of his emotions appear to diminish his courteous hospitality to his guests. They dined in the officers' mess-room, the captain's cabin being too small for the purpose. Everything passed off happily and gaily.
"Going into the harbour, sir," reported a boatswain to the commander, as the repast was finished.
In a few minutes the Kushiro approached her dock and made a near landing. Oto bade the visitors farewell. O-Hana-San, drawn by something in his dark eyes, lingered just a moment, as he took her hand in his own.
"When you hear from me again," he whispered, "I shall have been in action. The Russian fleet is close at hand, and we may be ordered south before morning. Farewell, O-Hana-San!"
"Oto! Oto! Sayonara!"
CHAPTER XXIII. TRAPPED IN MANCHURIA.
A less energetic and determined individual than Mr. Frederic Larkin might well have felt discouraged when, successively fired upon by the Japanese and rejected by the Russians, he was thrust out of Port Arthur and landed in Chefoo. His pass from the War Office at Tokio had been taken from him when he first entered Port Arthur, and had not been returned. To present himself again at General Stoessel's headquarters was out of the question, even if the means were possible.