i i E i , .- u i ,W‘ a 1,. s’ “fin-awn" ‘. fflkzeuswmfinmmsan .92.. . . . a . i 3 \ .t t i i . l t ) A LOVE-SONG. .3" 3m 3. RBXFORD. l ' Oh my little darling, ' our eyes are blue and bright ; Your face is like a flower: Your heart is always light. Oh my little dnrliu . four hair is soft fad flue; Your lips are arch and tencer, And you, oh, you are mine ! Oh, my little darling, How rich s man um I t In on I hue a treasure ot gems nor gold could buy. Oh, my little darling, Come kiss me for to song; 0h, kiss me often, dar inc. And kiss me sweet and long! The Sit—enter Barque. A TALE OF THE PACIFIC. BY CAPT. MAYNE REID, amen or “ men» -ro burn,” 310., :10. CHAPTER XXXIX. IN DREAD OF A DUEL. ONCE more upon the azotea, aunt and niece— Carmen Montijo and Inez Alvarez. It is the day after their betrothal. Their eyes are upon the ship that holds the men holding their hearts, as the hope of their life’s happiness. . They could be happy now,bad they full faith in the future. But there is a cloud overcasting it. Only a speck ; yet enough to cause them anxiety. Yesterday, along with its scenes of sweet ex- citement, had also its incidents of the opposite kipd; the recollection of which is not easily got fit of. The encounter between the gamblers and their lovers can not end with the scene which they themselves witnessed. Something more may be expected to come from it. What will it be ? Assurediy a duel. However brave before, and boastingly regard- less, they dread this now. Circumstances are changed. Then their sweethearts were only suitors; now that they are afflanCed, as if their own, the relation is different, as also the feeling it engenders. Before, they were not sure of possession; now they have it. To lose them now will be losing them indeed. Incz is less troubled than her aunt; for she has less reason. With the keen instinct of woo man, she has discovered that Calderon is a cow- ard, and has not much apprehension that he will fight. - \Vith instinct equally keen, Carmen knows that De Lara will. After his dire humiliation, he is not the man to shrink out of sight. Ruf- fian and bravo though he be, he has at least courage—perham the only quality he possesses deserving admiration. Once, and in a way, she herself admired it, if not him. Standing on the azowa they converse in seri- apartment, that containing his treasure, is pacing to and fro with an air of uneasiness yet unrelieved. ‘ It comes from a different cause, and has noth- ing to do with the sailing of the Crusader. But a great deal with that of the Condor: since on the latter vcsscl he intends embarking his all. He is anxious to get aboard the Chilian ship, away from San Francisco; and every hour in— creases his anxiety. For almost cvvry hour brings him intelligence of some new act of out- lawry occurring in the town or its neighbor- hood, still further impressing him with the in- security of his property—even of his life. Robbers anti murderers walk boldly abroad through the streets; not alone, but arm-in-arm with judges who have tried without condemn~ ing them! While lesser criminals appear be- fore drinking-bars, hobnobbing with the police who either hold them in arrest, or have just re- leased them aftcr a mock hearing before some magistrate, whose eyes, like justice herself, have been blinded by dust—the gold-dust of California. With these rutnors of lawlessness running around, and plenty of facts to confirm them, no wonder the ex-haa‘endado feels insecure, and desires to get out of the country as soon as be possibly can. - For a similar reason many others of the old Spanish families purpose leaving, and some have already left. Vth the proud prejudice of the Latinic race, Anglo-Saxon domination is uncongenial to them, even though it might give a protection superior to that they have hitherto enjoyed. It would do this in due time; but it does not now; and so far the chance of rulers is scarce an improvement on the old regime of their constantly-recurring revolutions. The le- pcros may stay and prosper; but the rioos will do well to get away. At leastso think they, and are acting up to the thought. Alta Calif 0i" uia is fast changing its population, since poli- tically it has ceasod to be a province of Spanish- America. As the Senor Montijo moves about in the midst of his money-bags, cogitating how he may best dispose of them for safety, he is called up to the azotca. ' The girls have summoned him tililither to witness the departure of the war- s up. An event that can not fail to interest him: and he is soon upon the house-top by their side. “ Rather strange, so abruptly going off i” he remarks, after sighting through one of the glasses. “ Our young friends said nothing about it last night.” “ I think, father, they could not have known of it themselves,” says Carmen. “ I’m sure they- couldn’t,” adds Inez. “What makes you sure, MM ‘3” asks Don Gregorio. “ Veil—because—” stammers out the Anda- lusian, a flush starting into her cheeks, “be- cause they’d have told us. They said they were not going so soon.” “ Just so ; but you see they are going now- gone. However, I think I can explain it. Sil- vester told me of another war-ship that came into port yesterday, belonging to their nation. ous tone, discussing the probabilities of what may arise. he delirious joy of yester eve—that hour when they sate in their saddles looking over the ocean, and listening to the tender accents of love—is to-day succeeded by depression—al- most despondcncy. They watch the boats that glide to and fro ‘ across the bay, especially those, at intervals, separating fromthe frigate; in one of them, ” fearing to recognize the forms of Crozier and Cadwallader. Fearing it: for they know that the midshipmen are not to be ashore again be- fore the sailing of the ship. If they come it can only be on an errand irresistible—a dosafio. Duty should keep them aboard ; but honor may require them to make one more visit to the shore—perhaps never to leave it alive. Thus gloomin reflect Carmen Montijo and Inez Alvarez, as they stand with eyes bent upon the man-of-war, or wandering over the water between. If the Spanish senoritas but understood the code of signals, all this misery would be spared them. For on the Crusadcr’s main royal-mast- head floats a blue flag with a white square in the center, which says she will soon spread her sails, and glide off out of sight, carr ’ing their amu-ntes beyond the danger they are reading. They see the Blue Peter without being able to interpret its signification. They do not even think of or gaze at it, their eyes being busy with the boats passing between ship and shore. One at length arrests their attention, and fixes it—a small craft that, pulling off from the frigate, is seen steering toward the town. It passes near enough for them to see that there are three men in it. And with a glass to their eyes, they can make out that one of the three is in the uniform of an oflicer; who, or of what rank, it is not easy to determine. But love’s glance is keen as its instinct; and by the aid of both, and the opera glass to back them, Inez feels convinced that he in the boat’s stern is Willie Cadwallader. Her aunt is of the same opinion. It does not alarm them so much as if Crozier was by his side. But he is not; the other two —.—the oarsmen—being sailors in woolen shirts with wide collars folding far back over their shoulders. For what purpose the young midshipman is being rowed ashore they can not guess ; surely it is not for the dreaded duell If on that errand, Carmen well knows that another'midshipman would be with him. Gradually his boat glides on toward the town, and is at len th lost to their view behind some sandhilis ins ore. While still in conjecture about the young of- ficer‘s errand, they perceive a change taking place in the aspect of the wanvcssel. The tall, tapering masts, with their network of stays and shrouds, are suddenly half-hidden behind broad difikfi of canvas. The ship is spreading her sa s They too are surprised at this, not expecting it so soon. With the help of their little glasses they can reeive other movements on the ship —stgnal- ags going up and down, with boats bein r hoisted to their davits. While watching these maneuvers, the two- oared boat again appears shooting out from be- hind the sandhills, and rowing rapidly back to ghe frigate. The officer and oarsmcn are still it it. . Soon it reaches the great leviathan, where it shows like a tiny spot along her water-line. It too is lifted aloft; and shortly after, the ship‘s sails hanging limp and corrugated, are drawn taut to the tacks and sheetcd home. Then the ards arc braced round, and the long black hull )ecomcs shortened as it vcers about in obedience to the helm; the wind catches the canvas; bellies it out; and the Crusader with a full crew, and the American flag trailing proud- ly over her taffrail, stands away front the bar- bor of San Francisco, leaving many a vessel on- vious at not being able to follow her example. CHAPTER XL. AN UNSATISFACTORY EPISTLIC. WHILE the ladies are outside watching the ‘(lepat‘tnrc of the war-ship, with something like i :1» a feeling of relief, Don Gregorio in a private a’b ,' ilk ya, do Likely she has brought orders for the Crusader to sail at once. I wish the Condor were doing the same. I shan’t sleep soundly till we‘re safe away from—” “ Sec, padre mt'o! ing this way ?" Carmen’s quick eye has fallen upon the fig- ure of a man, moving along the shore road in the direction of the house. " Si. mja,” responds Don Gregorio, after a glance, “ he appears to be one.” “ Do on think he’s coming here i” “ I s ouldn’t be surprised. Probably he brings a message from our young friends. It may be the man Don Edwardo told me about.” “ That’s why somebody came ashore,” whis~ pers Inez to her aunt. “ I’ll get a bdletita, Car- men; so will you. I knew they wouldn’t go away without leaving us one last little word.” The niece imparts no information, for the aunt is surmising the satne. Site replies by one of those proverbs in which the Spanish tongue is so rich : “ Silencw! Nay Moron en la costa, (Silence, there are Moors on the coast.) While this bit of by-play is being carried on, Don Gregorio is absorbed in some reflection that hinders him from noticing it. Meanwhile, the sailor ascends the hill, and is seen entering at the road-gate. There can now be no uncertainty as to his calling. The blue jacket, broad shirt-collar, round, ribboncd hat, and bell-bottomed trow- sers, are all the unmistakable toggcry of a tar. Avancing up the avenue in a rolling gait, with an occasional tack from side to side, that almost fetches him foul among the manzanitas, he at length reaches the open sweep in front. There he stops, looking up to the roof and sa- luting those upon it by the removal of his hat, and a jerking motion of the head, intended for a bow. “ Que quiores V.,-serwr?” asks Don Gregorio, speaking down. Harry Blew—for it is lie—replies by holding out a letter, at the same time saying: “ Your honor, I’ve brought this for the mas- ter of the house.” “I am he. Go in through the door below. I shall come down to you." Don Gregorio descends the stone stairway, and meeting the messen er in the inner court, rc- ceives from him the etter. Breaking it open, he reads : “ MUY ESTIMABLB Sutton—Circumstances have arisen that take us away from San Frzmcisco sooner than we ex ected. The Corvette, that came into port yester ay, brought orders for the Crusader to sail at once, though our destination is the same as already known to yum—Sandwich Islands. As the ship is about to weigh anchor, I have barely time to write a word for myself and Mr. Cudwalla- der. We think proper to impart some information that will no doubt surprise you. Yesterday morn- ing we met at your house two gentlemen—as cour- tesy would then have required as to cull them—by name Francisco De Lara, and Faustino Calderon. We encountered them at later hour of the day, when an occurrence took place that absolved us from either thinking of them as gentlemen, or treat- ing them as such. And still later, after leaving your hos )ituble roof, we again encountered the same ind vidnals, under circumstances showing them to be professional gamblers—one certainly so, the other to all appearance his confederate. He called De Lara we found presiding over a manta ts- blc, and dealing out the cards 1 A spirit of fun, with perhaps a spice of mischief, led us into the play, and betting largely, we suc- ceeded in breaking his bank. After that, for a time we lost. sight of the tWo cavallcros, who claim ac- qunintancc with you. But at a still later hour, when making our way to our boat, We once again encountered them—this time in the character of robbers and assassins! .That they did not succeed in either robbing or murdering us, is due to the brave fellow who wtll bear this letter to you, and who is the sailor of whom I 5 he to you. He can tell you the particulars of our ast encounter with the Call- forn an gentlemen. You may rely on his truthful- ness. I have now no time to say more. Hoping to meet. you in Cadiz, please convey parting (‘t)lilpiiv ments to the scuoritas, in which my friend Cudwal- luder unites with yours, most faithfully, “ EDWARD Caozmn." The cpistle makes a painful impression on the mind of Don Gregorio. Not that he is much surprised at the information regarding De Lam. and Calderon. He has heard sinister reports Is not that asailor com- conccrniug them—of late so loudly spoken, that he had determined on forbidding them further intercourse with his family. That very day he has been displeased on learning of their ill-timed visit, and now he feels chagrin at something like a reproach hinted in Crozicr’s letter, which touches his hidalgo pride. 'l‘hrusting thc epistle into his pocket, hc ques- tions the sailor, who tells him every thing in detail. Before being dismissed, Harry makes the ac- quaintance of the scnoritas, who have descend- cd from the azotca. They assist in dispensing hospitality, loading him with pretty presents, and knickoknacks, to be carried aboard the Con dor—whcrc they now know him to belong. As he is about to depart, they flutter around him, speaking kind words, almost offering him kisses, as if they expected to receive something in retum. For all this, he goes away without leaving them the hoped-for billetilas. A pang of disappointment—almost chagrin —shoots through the soul of Carmen Montijo, as the sailor passes out of sight. Similarly afflicted is Inez Alvarez; both re- flecting alike. Still there is a hope that there may have been something for them in that en- velope held up before their eyes. It was ample enough to cont in other inclosures besides a letter to Don Gregorio. Or if only this, there may be a postscript with special reference to them ? Daughters of Eve, they adroitly approach the sub'ect, and draw Don Gregorio. cs, there is something in the letter for them. He reads it, “ Parting compliments to the seno- ritas." “ Parting compliments! Those are strange last words for a lover. Only cold compliments ! Santim'ma! \Vhat can it mean ‘3” Thus reflect the two girls, as once more on the azotea their eyes follow the war-ship till she is waftcd out of sight. CHAPTER XLI. “AMBRE LA PUERTA l” AGAIN the house of Don Gregorio Montijo, three days after the ship Crusader has passed out of the Golden Gate. The hour is midnight, and the night a dark one. For the ocean fog has again rolled shore- ward across the peninsula, shrouding San Francisco as in a pail. It extends its curtain ovvr the adjaCent country, embracing the house of the The inmates seem asleep, as at this hour they should be. There is no light in the windows, and no sound within or around the halls. Not even the barking of a dog, the lowing of hint», or the stamping of a stalled horse! Strange this silence, but it would be stranger if such sounds Were heard. For there is not a canine creature about the place, no cattle in the inclosures, nor steeds in the stable. Don Gre- gorio has disposed of his live stock—got quittt-d of them altogether, even to the watch-dogs of the dwelling. The last circumstance may seem favorable to four men who are not far from the house, and gradually drawing nearer to it. For they are approaching by stealth, as their steps and atti- tudes show. They go crouchingly and in si- lence, now and then stopping to take a survey terrain in front, as they do So exchanging sup~ pressed whispers with one another. Through the filmy atmosphere their figures look weird-like, all the tnorc from their strange gesticulations and cautious gliding along. Scru- tinized closer and in a clear light they would still present something of this appearance. For althou. h in human shape, and wearing the arb 0 men, their faces are more like those of emons. On closer scrutiny it is discovered that they are human countenances, with a covering of crapc spread over them—enmascarados. Nothing more is needed to prove what they are, anti their purpose in approaching Don Gre- gorio‘s dwelling. They are robbers—burglars -——intending to des oil it. Without retnovmg their masks it may be guessed who they are—the four conspirators left plotting in the ranche of Rafael Rocas. They are now carrying out the scheme of plunder originated and proposed by De Lara; since elaborated into readiness for cxectttion. It looks as if Don Gregorio’s gold will never reach Panama, nntch less get transported to Spain. And his daughter! What of her, with Fran- cisco De Lara drawing nigh as one of the noc— turnal ravagers? His granddaughter as well, Faustino Calderon being another? One cognizant of the existing relations, and spectator of what is passing now, seeing the crapcd scoundrels as they steal on toward the house—will deem it certain that this is soon to be doubly (leapoiled—that its owner is to suffer desolation, not only in fortune, but in that far dearer, his family. The intended despoilers are approaching from the front, up the avenue, though not on it. They keep along the edge among the mamanila bushes. These, with the fog, afford sufficient screen to prevent their being seen from the house, even if sentinels were set upon its azotea. But there are none : no eye to see, no voice to give warning, no watch-dog to wake those slumbering within. At this last the skulkers feel some surprise. On a large grazing estate it is rare for the bay- ing of the molossian not to be heard sounding throughout the night. or at short intervals. Be- fore entering the inclosure they have been lying concealed in a thicket, their horses tied to trees. This for nearly an hour, without bark, yelp, or growl reaching their ears. Nor have they heard sound of human voices. All around the house, and the bill upon which it stands, while shroud. ed in mist, seems steeped in the stillness of death. Along with surprise, something like awe is felt by one of the four criminals, as they make their stealthy approach. This is Calderon, who has still some lingering remnants of re— morse, or perhaps rather of fear. The other three are too strong in courage and too hardened in crime to let such weakness come ovcr them. Arriving at the end of the avenue, and with- in thirty yards of the dwelling, they stop for a final consultation. Though themselves screen- ed by the manzunitas, the house is uncovered to their eyes along its whole facade—the massive walls looming dark through the damp, floating va )Ol‘. ll silent as ever, no one stirring, no light frotn any window, the shutters closed behind the rejax, the grcal front. [mm-ta as well. “ Now for getting inside. \Vhat will be our best way ? Who of ye can tell that?” It is Do Lara who asks these questions. “ In my opinion,“ answers Lozada, “ we’ll do best by climbing up to the motor, and over into the patio." “ Where’s your ladder?" asks Rocas, in his gruff, blunt way. , “ We tnust. find one. or something that. will serve instead. There’s timber lying about. the cor-role; we can get a climbing pole lltorc." “ And while looking for it, wake up some of the vaqucros. That. won’t do.” “ Then what do you propose, Rafael ‘9” again interrogates De Lara. The seal-hunter, supposed to have some ex- perience in burglary, is listened to with atten- tion. “\Valk straight up to the door, knock, and ask to be admitted. In that way we‘ll get in.” “In that way we’ll be more likely ll('VCi‘ to get- in. On the contrary, haven blunder-buss pointed at us, and a shower of bullets come whistling around, some of them jogging into us. It is Calderon who says this. “ Not the least danger of it,” rejoins 'Rocas. “ Take my word, we’ll be let in.” “ Why do you think so ‘3" asks De Lara. “ Why? Because we have a claim on the hospitality of the house.” “ I don’t understand you.” “ Well, we’ve got a good story to tell—sim- ple and to the purpose.” “ Still I don‘t understand. Explain yourself, Rafael.” “Why, don’t we come as messengers from the man-of-war you’ve been telling me about ‘9” “ Ah ; now I perceive your drift." “ One or two can so announce ourselves, while the others keep out of sight. We are sent by these yuardz’a-marinas on an errand to Don Gregorio, or the senoritas, if on like—— something of importance affecting their depar- ture. True, the ship by this may be gone away. We can’t tell. But no matter; the story of a message will stand good all the same.” “ Rafael Rocas l” exclaims De Lara, “ you‘re a born genius. Instead of being forced to do a little smuggling now and then, you ought to be made administrador de duanos. We shall act as you advise. No doubt the door will be opened. When it is. one can stay by it in charge of the janitor. He‘s a sexagenarian, and won’t be hard to hold. 'If he struggle, we must silence him. The other three can go ransacking. You, Calderon, know the room where Don Gregorio keeps, his chest. We must make straight for that.’ “ I say, Francisco,” whispers Calderon, in the car of his gambling confederate, having drawn him aside. “ About the Mime—you 'don’t in- tend any thing with them ?” “ Certainl not—not to-night, nor in this fashion. c shall approach them in gentler guise, and in good time; have no fear of it. When they‘re without a peso in the world, they will be less proud, and may be Contented to stay a little longer in California. Tonight we have enough on our hands without that. One thing at a time—the money first, themselves afterward." “ But suppose they should rccognizo us ?” “ They can’t. Disguised as we are, I defy a man’s mother to know him. If they did, then—” “ Then what?” “ No use reflecting what. Don’t be so scared, man! If I’d anticipated any chance of its coming to cxtrcmcs of that kind, I wouldn’t be here prepared for only half measures. Perhaps we shan’t cvcn wake them up, not one of them, and if we do there‘s not the slghtcst danger of our being known. So make your mind easy, and let’s get through with it. Rocas and Loza— do. are impatient ; we must rejoin them and pro- ceed to business at once." The four house-breakers again set their heads together, and after a few whispered words to complete their plan of proceeding, advance to- ward the door. Once up to it, they stand close in, concealed by its overshadowing arch. With the butt of his pistol De Lara knocks. Rocas, whose voice is unknown to any one who may be within, is to do the talking. No one answers the knock; and it is re- pcated. Louder, and again louder. sleeps soundly tonight. Another rat-at-ta with the pistol-butt, follow- ed by the request: \ “ Amine la puerta !" Then comes a respOnse from'within, but not the customary “ Qm’en es ?" nor any thing in Spanish. On the contrary, the speech saluting the ears of those who seek admission is in a different tongue, and with tone altogether un- like that of the old oochero. “Who are ye ?" asks a‘voice from inside, while a heavy footstcp is heard treading the sag/tan. Before the startled burglars can shape a re- ply, the voice continues: “ Curse ye! What (1’ 'c want, wakin’ a fellow out o’ his sleep at this tune o’ the night? I’ve a good mind to give ye a. pill out o’ my six- shooter.” " What the devil docs this mean ?” muttch Dc Lara. “ Tell him, Rocas,” he adds, in 80110 soce, to the seal-hunter, “tell him we’re from the man-of-war with— (I'm-mi! I forgot you don’t speak English. I must do it myself. He don’t know who it is." Then raising his voice: “ \Vc want to see Don Gregorio. . We bring a message from the war-ship—from the mid- shipmen.” - “I know nothin’ ’bout them. As for Don Gregorio, if ye want to git sight on him, e’rc a precshus way wide 0’ the mark. He ain t hyar any more! He‘s gi’n possession yesterday an’ tuk every thing 0' his’n out the house. I’m onl hyar in charge 0’ the place. Guess ye’ll fill( both the Don and his darters at the Parker. It air the most likeliest'place to tree that lot.” Don Gregorio gone! his gold—his girls, only an empty house, in charge of a character who carries a Colt’s pistol, and would use it on the slightest provocation! Little use their going inside now—not any, bttt a good deal of danger. Any thing but pleasant medicine a pill from that six-shooter. “ Carrambo.’ Carrot .’ Capital Makit'ta!” Such are the cxelamations hisSed through the teeth of the disappointed house-breakers, differing in intensity according to the passion of the speaker. They continue pouring them liberall from their lips, as they turn away from the ( isman' tit-d dwelling, and retrace their steps toward the macho of Rafael Rocas. The sexagenarian Carajo ! Chin gum .' CHAPTER XLII. A seamen ennw. THE ex-Mcie-ndado has acted wisely in aban- doning his country-house and betaking himself to a hotel in the town. For this, as the caro- takcr said, he has done. The life may not be congenial to the scnoritas or himself; still it. is safe. For though rough in aspect some of their fellow guests may be, as boisterous in manner, the most sensitive lady need not fear moving through their midst. A word or gesture of in- sult. to her, and twenty pistols would be raiscd to resent it. Despite his Spanish pride, with its consc- quent t-xclusivcm-ss, the Senor Montijo is con- tcntcd to sojourn at the hotel during the re- maindcr of his stay in California. It. is only to he short—until Captain Lautunas can engage a crew for his ship. Already D011 Gregorio has sent his heavy baggage aboard. This openly in the lightof day. But something also ponderous, though of loss bulk, he has shipped secretly in the dead hours of the night. The $300000 of gold-dust is stored in the lockers’ of the Condor’s cabin, no one knowing of its whereabouts save the Chilian skipper and Silvester. From Don Gregorio’s mind the transfer has removed a load of solicitude. He is all the more satisfied with what he has done, when, on paying a‘visit to his house for some ultimate purpose, he learns from the man left in charge what has happened~—how he was inquired for. He who uiiswercd the door with a Colt’s revolver in hand, took occasion to peep through the keyhole, and now tells the former proprietor that there were four men inquiring for him ; that they secnwd greatly disappointed at not finding him at home; and went ofl' utter~ ing adjnrations in Sp:utislt——though holding their parley through the door in a different lan- guage. A message from officers of the mau-of-war! and brought by four men who spoke in Spanish! “ Strange, all this!” thinks Don Gregorio, who knows that by this time the ship should be scvoral hundreds of miles at sea! Besides the messengers have not afterward presented them- selves at the Parker House, whither they were directed ! What could it mean ? The sailor who is now first-mate of the Condor, may know some- thing of it, and he will question him the first time he goes aboard, though he has not much hope of elucidation from that quarter as his suspicions point elsewhere. He can not help in some way connecting the occurrence with De Lara and Calderon. Crozier‘s letter, coupled with further information received from the bearer of it, has thrown such a light on their character, that he can now believe tht-m capa- ble of any thing. After attempting to rob the young officers, and murder them as well, they would not hesitate to serve others the same; and the demand for admiSSion at his house may have been made by these very men, in the com- pany of confederatcs, ' with the design of plunder—perhaps something worse. Thus reflecting, Don Gregorio deems it a happy inspiration that guided to the removal of his household gods; and he is nowall the more solicitous to leave a land beset with such dangers. Daily, almost hourly, he is in communication with the Chilian skipper, either face to face, or though the medium of Don Tomas Silvester. The agent has instructions to report how things progress. The difficulty continues about getting a crew for the Condor. Several days have elapsed and still no sailors turn up who nrc willing to ship for Valparaiso. They are all gone off for the gold-placcrsuor going. The mate is the only man yct engaged. “ Offer higher wages, Silvester,” says Don Gregorio, every day becoming more impatient. “ Engage them at any price.” The ship-agent yit-lds ready assent, and in- serts in the “ Diario " a fre§h ariso addressed to mariner-ox. Triple pay to those who wish ser- vice on a well-appointed ship. In addition all the usual allowanccs, the best of every thing. ' Surely this should get the Condor a crew ‘.’ It does. Within twcnt -four hours after the advertismcnt has uppearet , sailoas begin to show on the ship. They come singly, also in twos and threes. till as many as .sail? a score have presented themselves. They belong to different nationalities, among them English, French, and German. Several ap- pear to be Spaniards or Spanish-Americans, as might be. expected from the Condor having been adVertised as a Chilian vessel. Among them there is the usual variety of fa- cial expression ; though in one thing a wonder- ful uniformity. Scarce a man of them but has a countenance in some way unprepossessing— either naturally of sinister cast, or brought to it by a career of sinfulness. On most there are traces of recent dissipation, in eyes bleary and bloodshot. Of strife, too, in other eyes that are blackened; with scars upon cheeks not yet cicatrizcd. Some are still in astute of inebri- ty, and stagger as they stop aboard. Under any other circumstances such sailors would stand no chance of getting shipped. As it is, they are accepted—not one refused. Captain Lautnnas has no choice, and knows it. ' Without them he is helpless—hopeless for him to think of puttng to sea. If he does not take them, the Condor may swing idly at her anchor for weeks, it may be months. Quick as they come aboard he enters their names on the ship’s books, and assigns them separate bunks in the forc~peak. He is comforted With the reflection that not all appear addicted to drink. A few have an aspect of sobriety, presenting otherwise a re- spectable appearance. ’ Under this category most of those who speak Spanish, and have shipped under Spanish names. Among the many backslidings alleged against this nation, habitual drunkenness can not be counted. At least four of the new sailors, however other- wise ill-favored, look as if they would keep sober; anti one, by name Padilla, shows cre- dentials that procure for hitn the berth of piloto segundo (second mute). After the half have been shipped no more present themselves. Even the big bounty of- fered does not. tempt another tar out of the streets of San Francisco. In any other seaport it would empty every sailor’s boarding-house to the last lodger. Ten hands are not enough to work the good ship Condor. Iler captain knows it and waits another day, wishing for five more to complete her complement. Hc wishes in vain. No more present them. selves on the ship, or report to the agent, Sil- vester. Beyond doubt the supply is exhausted. Convinced of this, the Chilinn skipper deter- mines to set sail with such crew as he has se- cured. Nothing much, now, remains to be done. Some stores to be shipped, provisions for the voyage, the best and freshest San Francisco can afford. For he who authorizes the order cares not for the cost; only that things he made comfortable. Don Gregorio Montijo has given cat-(e blanche for providing the table, and it is done according to his directions. At length every thing is ready; and the Condor only awaits her passengers. Her cabin has been handsomely furnished—its best state- room decorated to receive two ladies, as fair as ever set foot aboard ship. CHAPTER XLIII. “ ADIOS, CALIFORNIA !” ANOTHER sunrise over San Francisco, in all likelihood the last Don Gregorio Montijo will ever witness in California. For just as the orb of day shows above the dark silhouette of Monte Diablo, flinging its golden shimmer across the Bay, a boat leaves the town picr, hearing him and his toward the Chilian ship about to set sail. Others are in the bout; a large party of ladies and gentlemen, who accompany him to do a last hundsltnking aboard the ship. For in quitting California the cx-hacicndado leaves many friends behind; among them some who will pass sleepless hours thinking of Carmen Montijo; and others whose hearts will be sore as their thoughts turn upon Inez Al- varez. It may be that none of them are in the boat; and better for them not. For the most. painful of all partings is that where the lowr sees his sweetheart sail away, with the knowledge she cares not to come back. The two young girls going off show no sign of sorrow or regret. They are hindered by re- \. l L ‘ qugfl» , ____._, .{t a i (9‘ 1.; _, :. finial. *na;