miscellaneous
embracing that he immediately underwent.

Need we say that Captain Samson and his men were only too thankful to
have such an opportunity of deliverance? They at once accepted the
offer of the American captain, embarked in his ship the following
morning, passed Cape Horn not long after, sailed up the coast of South
America, and, in course of time, cast anchor in the renowned harbour of
San Francisco.

At the time of which we write, the excitement about the gold-fields of
California was at its highest pitch. Men were flocking to that region
from all parts of the earth. Fortunes were being made by some in a few
months, and lost by others, at the gaming-tables, in a few days, or even
hours. While a few gained a competence, many gained only a bare
subsistence; thousands lost their health, and not a few their lives. It
was a strange play that men enacted there, embracing all the confusion,
glitter, rapid change of scene, burlesque, and comedy of a pantomime,
with many a dash of darkest tragedy intermingled. Tents were pitched in
all directions, houses were hastily run up, restaurants of all kinds
were opened, boats were turned keel up and converted into cottages,
while ships were stranded or lying idle at their anchors for want of
crews, who had made off to that mighty centre of attraction, the
diggings.

Arrived at San Francisco, Captain Samson and his crew were landed one
fine morning at an early hour, and went up to a modest-looking hotel,
without any definite idea as to what was best to be done in their
peculiar circumstances. Feeling a strange sensation of helplessness in
the midst of so much turmoil and human energy, after their quiet sojourn
on the Coral Island, they kept together like a flock of sheep, and
wandered about the town. Then they returned to their hotel and had
luncheon, for which so large a sum was demanded, that they resolved to
return on board at once, and ask the American captain's advice.

They found their deliverer pacing his quarterdeck, with his hands in his
pockets, and a stern frown on his countenance. He was quite alone, and
the vessel wore an unusually quiet air.

"Nothing wrong, I hope," said Captain Samson, as he stepped over the
gangway.

"Everything wrong," replied the American; "crew skedaddled."

"What! bolted?"

"Ay, every man, to the diggin's."

"What will you do?" asked Captain Samson, in a sympathetic tone.

"Sell off the ship and cargo for what the