of the Luzon sun, Mr. Keen. And then she came out and got into a Fifth Avenue stage, and I got in, too. And whenever she looked away I looked at her--without the slightest offense, Mr. Keen, until, once, she caught my eye--" 
He passed an unsteady hand over his forehead. 
"For a moment we looked full at one another," he continued. "I got red, sir; I felt it, and I couldn't look away. And when I turned color like a blooming beet, she began to turn pink like a rosebud, and she looked full into my eyes with such a wonderful purity, such exquisite innocence, that I--I never felt so near--er--heaven in my life! No, sir, not even when they ambushed us at Manoa Wells--but that's another thing--only it is part of this business." 
He tightened his clasped hands over his knee until the knuckles whitened. 
"_That's_ my story, Mr. Keen," he said crisply. 
"All of it?" 
Harren looked at the floor, then at Keen: "No, not all. You'll think me a lunatic if I tell you all." 
"Oh, you saw her again?" 
"N-never! That is--" 
"Never?" 
"Not in--in the flesh." 
"Oh, in dreams?" 
Harren stirred uneasily. "I don't know what you call them. I have seen her since--in the sunlight, in the open, in my quarters in Manila, standing there perfectly distinct, looking at me with such strange, beautiful eyes--" 
"Go on," said the Tracer, nodding. 
"What else is there to say?" muttered Harren. 
"You saw her--or a phantom which resembled her. Did she speak?" 
"No." 
"Did you speak to her?" 
"N-no. Once I held out my--my arms." 
"What happened?" 
"She wasn't there," said Harren simply. 
"She vanished?" 
"No--I don't know. I--I didn't see her any more." 
"Didn't she fade?" 
"No. I can't explain. She--there was only myself in the room." 
"How many times has she appeared to you?" 
"A great many times." 
"In your room?" 
"Yes. And in the road under a vertical sun; in the forest, in the paddy fields. I have seen her passing through the hallway of a friend's house--turning on the stair to look back at me! I saw her standing just back of the firing-line at Manoa Wells when we were preparing to rush the forts, and it scared me so that I jumped forward to draw her back. But--she wasn't there, Mr. Keen. . . ." 
On the transport she stood facing me on deck one moonlit evening for five minutes. 
I saw 

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