h a stranger to the port of San Francisco, Captain Lantanas has
some knowledge of his correspondent; for Don Tomas has the day before
informed him that a gentleman from whom he may expect to hear--the same
whose name is signed to the letter--is a man of immense wealth; a landed
proprietor, whose acres lie contiguous to the rising city of San
Francisco, and for this reason enormously increased in value by the
influx of gold-seeking immigrants. What this important personage may
want with him, Lantanas cannot tell; for Silvestre himself has not been
made aware of it--the gentleman declining to state his business to any
other than the captain of the ship.

On the morning of the appointed day, leaning as usual against his
capstan, and puffing his paper cigar, the Chilian skipper is not in a
mood for playing with his monkey pets. His mind is given to a more
serious matter, his whole thoughts absorbed in conjecturing for what
purpose his unknown correspondent may be seeking the interview.

He is not without surmises, in which he is assisted by something he has
heard while mixing in Spanish circles ashore--this, that the landowner
in question has lately sold his land, realising a very large sum--half a
million dollars being the amount stated. Furthermore, that being a
Peninsular Spaniard, and neither Mexican nor Californian, he is about to
return to Spain, taking with him his household gods--Lares, Penates, and
all.

These could not be stowed in a single state-room, but would require a
whole ship, or a goodly portion of one. The _Condor_ has still plenty
of room to spare. Her hold is not half full; and her cabin has
accommodation for one or two passengers. May it be on this business his
correspondent is coming aboard.

So Captain Lantanas interrogates himself, while standing upon his
quarterdeck, and with the glowing coal of his cigarrito sending off his
hairy familiars, who, in their play, at times intrude upon him.

It pleases him to think he may have surmised correctly; and, while still
indulging in conjectures, he sees that which puts an end to them--a
shore-boat, with a single pair of rowers, and a gentleman--evidently a
landsman--seated in the stern-sheets, to all appearance coming on for
the _Condor_.

Captain Lantanas steps to the side of his ship; and, standing in her
waist, awaits the arrival of his visitor.

As the boat draws near he makes out a man, dressed in semi-Californian
costume, such as is worn