The Birmingham age-herald., 1912-06-22

Charles Harvey Raymond in Iippin-
 cott's Magazine
 \ IY wife and I had spent the day MI unpacking and setting our house in order, and at the last moment I had slipped away to look up old friends at the Army and Navy club. It was my first night in Manila after an absence of years.
 About midnight I left the club, home ward bound. The night could scarcely have been improved upon. A tropical moon cast its yellow haze through the palm fronds that skirted the edge of the road a million stars shone from cloud less sky. Over all there was that hush of expectancy one experiences during the early morning hours in the midst of city of sleeping thousands.
 I came out at last upon a green square or plaza, with lawn and crumbling cathedral set back from the walk. Be- fore the crypt-like door of the cathedral twisted mango tree of immense propor- tions served as screen. to the interior; there was a fount of marble on the outer wall, and in an open space between two pillars a tiny statue in ivory.
 While I was busy taking in these de- tails the grating of a wheel against the stone curbing caused me to turn quickly. And I perceived in the shadow of the house wall across the street small two wheeled cart or carromatta. There was no sign of driver on the seat; in the shafts piebald pony stood, munching at the few blades of grass that sprouted between the cobblestones.
 As my eyes became more accustomed to the light could see a small postern door and easement window. Leaning out of the easement, thin shawl cover ing her head and shoulders, a young girl "a Filipina senorita-could be discerned. Under the window, a man, heavily cloak ed. turned his back to me and his face to the woman. And I noted that the cloak, which was of that breadth and width known only in Spanish countries, bulged at the back, apparently with the concealment of some object of consldera- ble dimension.
 Even as I looked, the senorita leaned farther out from her window, while the man, standing on tiptoe, reached out a supplicating hand Before I turned dls- creetly away I heard the distinct clink of silver bracelets and the sound of low, mu- sical laughter.
 Not wishing to be an eavesdropper at so romantic an amour. walked some dis tance down the street and took my seat on the curb The round moon, paling ever so slightly as the heavens whitened with the day, cast shadow of tree trunks across the fiagstones of the street. A bird caroled with liquid notes from somewhere behind the foliage of the plaza; and the warm, caressing breeze bore a pleasant aromatic odor of tropical flowers I felt myself thrilling at that early morning hour by the side of that century old cathedral with a poignant sense of the beauty and romance of the city whose walls were already crumbling when our nation was still in it's infancy. l listened attentively for the twang of guitar from under the easement across the way; for surely, I thought. it must be that TO- mantle instrument my troubadour con ceals so carefully under the folds of his cloak.
 Before I was aware that the man had left the window. I saw him bending over the carromatta. He was a Filipino of small stature. with a slickened ring of dark hair under his sombrero. As he strengthened I could see that his cheek was disfigured by a remarkable and livid scar.
 He gazed up and down the street, seemed to hesitate. and finally. as if un- able longer to restrain himself, walked hurriedly back to the window. This. thought, is the true lovers parting; but I was not prepared for what followed. After a delay of some minutes. I heard the click of a latch. the creaking of rus ty hinges; and in the next instant. my senorita, heavily yelled as before, was hrrrying toward the waiting carromatta on the arm of her lover.
 The thing could not have been done better in story book. Before I could count ten, the carromatta had lurched around the corner and the sound of it's