rse. Not that they have any
desire to visit the dominions of King Kamehameha, or expect pleasure
there. On the contrary, if left to themselves, the frigate's stay in
the harbour of Honolulu would not last longer than necessary to procure
a boat-load of bananas, and replenish her hen-coops with fat Kanaka
fowls.

It is scarce necessary to say that they, who are thus indifferent to the
delights of Owyhee, are the late-made lieutenant, Crozier, and the
midshipman, Cadwallader. For them the brown-skinned Hawaian beauties
will have little attraction. Not the slightest danger of either
yielding to the blandishments so lavishly bestowed upon sailors by these
seductive damsels of the Southern Sea. For the hearts of both are yet
thrilling with the remembrance of smiles vouchsafed them by other
daughters of the sunny south, of a far different race--thrilling, too,
with the anticipation of again basking in their smiles under the sky of
Andalusia.

It needs hope--all they can command--to cheer them. Not because the
time is great, and the place distant. Sailors are accustomed to long
separation from those they love, and, therefore, habituated to patience.
It is no particular uneasiness of this kind which shadows their brows,
and makes every mile of the voyage seem a league.

Nor are their spirits clouded by any reflections on that, which so
chafed them just before leaving San Francisco. If they have any
feelings about it, they are rather those of repentance for suspicions,
which both believe to have been unfounded, as unworthy.

What troubles them now--for they are troubled--has nought to do with
that. Nor is it any doubt as to the loyalty of their _fiancee_; but
fear for their safety. It is not well-defined; but like some dream
which haunts them--at times so slight as to cause little concern, at
others, filling them with keen anxiety.

But in whatever degree felt, it always assumes the same shape--two
figures conspicuous in it, besides those of their betrothed
sweethearts--two faces of evil omen, one that of Calderon, the other De
Lara's.

What the young officers saw of these men, and what more they learnt of
them before leaving San Francisco, makes natural their misgivings, and
justifies their fears. Something seems to whisper them, that there is
danger to be dreaded from the gamblers--desperadoes as they have shown
themselves--that through them some eventuality may arise, affecting the
future of Carmen Montijo