, and Danish. But the
majority appear to be Spaniards, or Spanish-Americans--as might have
been expected from the _Condor_ being a Chilian ship.

Among them is the usual variety of facial expression; though, in one
respect, a wonderful uniformity. Scarce a man of them whose countenance
is not in some way unprepossessing--either naturally of sinister cast,
or brought to it by a career of sinful dissipation. Several of them
show signs of having been recently drinking--with eyes bleary and
bloodshot. Of strife, too, its souvenirs visible in other eyes that are
blackened, and scars upon cheeks not yet cicatrised. Some are still in
a state of inebriety, and stagger as they stray about the decks.

Under any other circumstances, such sailors would stand no chance of
getting shipped. As it is, they are accepted--not one refused. Captain
Lantanas has no choice, and knows it. Without them he is helpless, and
it would be hopeless for him to think of putting to sea. If he do not
take them, the _Candour_ may swing idly at her anchor for weeks, it
might be months.

Quick as they came aboard, he enters their names on the ship's books,
while Harry Blew assigns them their separate bunks in the forepeak.
One, a Spaniard, by name Padilla, shows credentials from some former
ship, which procure him the berth of _piloto-segundo_ (second mate).

After the ten had been taken, no more present themselves. Even the big
bounty offered does not tempt another tar from the saloons of San
Francisco. In any other seaport, it would empty every sailors'
boarding-house, to its last lodger.

And ten hands are not enough to work the good ship _Condor_.

Her captain knows it, and waits another day, hoping he may get a few
more to complete her complement; but hopes in vain, the supply seems
exhausted.

Becoming convinced of this, he determines to set sail with such crew as
he has secured. But little more remains to be done; some stores to be
shipped, provisions for the voyage, the best and freshest San Francisco
can afford. For he who authorises their inlay cares not for the cost--
only that things may be made comfortable. Don Gregorio gives
_carte-blanche_ for providing the vessel; and it is done according to
his directions.

At length everything is ready, and the _Condor_ only awaits her
passengers. Her cabin has been handsomely furnished; its best
state-room decorated to receive two ladies, fair as ever set foot on
board ship.