kward, and beheld the people pushing and
buffeting his uncle in a most unceremonious manner. His helmet was
knocked down over his eyes, and the coat--so much too small for him--was
rendered an easy fit by being ripped up behind to the neck. Ned could
not stand this. He was stout of limb and bold as a lion, although not
naturally addicted to fighting, so he turned suddenly round and flew to
the rescue. Plunging into the midst of the struggling mass of golden
creatures, Ned hit out right and left like a young Hercules, and his
blows rang upon their metal chests and noses like the sound of
sledge-hammers, but without any other effect.

Suddenly he experienced an acute sensation of pain, and--awoke to find
himself hammering the bed-post with bleeding knuckles, and his uncle
standing beside his bed chuckling immensely.

"O uncle," cried Ned, sitting up in his bed, and regarding his knuckles
with a perplexed expression of countenance, "I've had _such_ an
extraordinary dream!"

"Ay, Ned," interrupted his uncle, "and all about California, I'll be
bound."

"Why, how did you guess that?"

"It needs not a wizard to guess that, lad. I've observed that you have
read nothing in the newspapers for the last three months but the news
from the gold-diggings of California. Your mind has of late been
constantly running on that subject, and it is well-known that day-dreams
are often reproduced at night. Besides, I heard you shouting the word
in your sleep as I entered your room. Were you fighting with
gold-diggers, eh! or Indians?"

"Neither, uncle; but I was fighting with very strange beings, I assure
you, and--"

"Well, well," interrupted Mr Shirley, "never mind the dream just now;
we shall have it at some other time. I have important matters to talk
over with you, my boy. Morton has written to me. Get up and come down
as quickly as you can, and we'll discuss the matter over our breakfast."

As the door closed after the retreating form of his uncle, Edward Sinton
leaped out of bed and into his trousers. During his toilet he wondered
what matters of importance Mr Shirley could intend to discuss with him,
and felt half inclined to fear, from the grave expression of his uncle's
face when he spoke of it, that something of a disagreeable nature
awaited him. But these thoughts were intermingled with reminiscences of
the past night. His knuckles, too, kept constantly reminding him of his
strange encounter, and, do what he