Hence Valetta is very gay when night comes on; fancy Chinese lanterns hang in the streets, music is heard on every hand, and laughing, good-natured crowds jostle elbows in a way that would horrify a high caste Hindoo.

Valetta has long been known as the headquarters of the famous Order of Malta.  The representative commanderies of different nations have their inns, each called an auberge, on the principal streets, while the palace of the Grand Master is three hundred feet on each side, facing four streets, with a large square in front known as the Piazza St. Giorgio.

A small tower on the top known as the Torretta is used as a station from which men-of-war are signaled.

Everywhere can be seen the insignia of this ancient order, the white Maltese cross on a blood-red field, arousing thoughts of men in armor, the crusades, and much that is stirring and romantic in the history of the centuries that are gone.

A student of history would find much to entrance him in this peculiar hill-side city on the British Island of Malta.

Supper is served at the hotel just as night comes on, and John Craig, M.D., has managed to eat in an unconcerned way, talking with his friends, and trying to appear unconscious of the fact that two score of curious eyes are upon him, the incident of the afternoon having spread like wild-fire among the rest of the delayed steamer’s passengers who stop at the same hotel.

This is the first time the young master of medicine has found himself the center of observation, and he comes through the ordeal very fairly, as Lady Ruth informs him laughingly, when they by chance leave the dining-room together.

Another ordeal awaits John.  In the parlor he finds the mother of the boy whose life he saved.  She cannot talk much English and John is hardly at home in Arabic, or the mixed language used by the Maltese.

When two persons are very much in earnest they manage to get on, and the poor woman calls down the blessings of Heaven on his head ere she leaves.

“I wish all this were over,” he laughs, rejoining the English girl.

“Make the most of it, doctor,” says the colonel, sauntering up with a choice weed between his teeth; “such occasions come rarely and had better be appreciated.  Take the advice of an old campaigner, and make hay while the sun shines.”

“Oh!  I mean to, colonel,” replies John, and there is a hidden meaning in his words that causes the officer to look at him steadily and mutter: 

“Hang the boy!  I really believe he expects to enter the lists against me, Colonel Lionel Blunt, who carries a Victoria Cross and knew what a love affair was before he was born.  Well, the end is not yet, and he laughs loudest who laughs last.”

All of which is very true, and proves that the colonel of Royal Engineers does not mean to let the opportunity pass.

A few minutes later John and Lady Ruth stand on the piazza of the hotel.  The scene is well worth looking at, with its many lights, bright colors, and constantly changing crowds.