CHAPTER IV.
A WORLD-WIDE SEARCH.
It is a night of nights, destined to mark, as with a white stone, the progress of at least two life currents that have until recently flown contentedly on, each in its own individual channel.
Valetta, being a city of the Italian school, makes much ado over the coming of Lent.

The people, as if to prepare for six weeks of fasting, indulge in all manner of feasting.
Even the Mohammedans, who are present in no small numbers, join the festivities, for they, too, have a period of fasting, according to the example set by the prophet, and commanded in the Koran.
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.