stepped
forward, and said, "I'll help you, if you like."

"D'ye think ye can lift it!" inquired Larry, with a dubious look.

The youth replied by seizing one of the boxes, and lifting it with ease
on his shoulder, shewing that, though destitute of fat, he had more than
the average allowance of bone and sinew.

"I doubt if you could do it better than that yourself, Larry," said Ned,
laughing. "Come along, now, close at our heels, lest we get separated
in the crowd."

The young porter knew the residence of Mr Thompson well, and guided
them swiftly through the crowded thoroughfares towards it. Passing
completely through the town, he led them over the brow of one of the
sand-hills beyond it, and descended into a little valley, where several
neat villas were scattered along the sides of a pleasant green slope,
that descended towards another part of the bay. Turning into the little
garden in front of one of these villas, he placed the box on the wooden
platform before the door, and said, "This is Mr Thompson's house."

There was something striking in the appearance of this young porter; he
seemed much above his station in life; and Ned Sinton regarded his
bronzed and handsome, but somewhat haggard and dissipated countenance,
with interest, as he drew out his purse, and asked what was to pay.

"Two dollars," answered the man.

Ned looked up in surprise. The idea of paying eight shillings for so
slight a service had never entered his imagination. At that moment the
door opened, and Mr Thompson appeared, and invited them to enter. He
was a shrewd, business-like man, with stern, but kind expression of
countenance.

"Come in, come in, and welcome to California," he said, on perusing the
captain's letter of introduction. "Glad to see you, gentlemen. You've
not had breakfast, of course; we are just about to sit down. This
way," he added, throwing open the door of a comfortable and
elegantly-furnished parlour. "Bring the boxes into the passage--that
will do. Here, Lizette, pay the men, dear; two dollars a-piece, I
fancy--"

"Excuse me," interrupted Captain Bunting, "only one bas to be paid, the
other is one of my sailors."

"Ah! very good; which is he?"

Larry O'Neil stepped forward, hat in hand.

"Go in there, my man, and cook will attend to you."

Larry passed through the doorway pointed out with a pleasant, fluttering
sensation at the heart, which was quickly changed to a feeling of
considerable disapp