"Who is your little cousin?" asked Tom.

"Polly Sampson. She is a very little woman, but she is very pretty."

"Well, come help us to pack up, and we will all be off," said Tom.

"And you can go home and marry Polly Sampson," said Toney.

Hercules went to work with alacrity, and they were soon packed up, and on the road to Sacramento; which place they reached late at night, and on the following evening were in San Francisco. They were detained in the city of Saint Francis several days; and the business relating to the sale of their sand-hill having been completed, Toney, Tom, and the Professor went on board the steamer with their fortunes in their money-belts, in the shape of drafts on banking-houses in New York. They soon pa.s.sed through the Golden Gate and were on the broad waters of the Pacific Ocean. The weather was fine, and the vessel was remarkable for her speed. In a few days they were running along in sight of the coast of Lower California, and about two leagues from the land. The Professor was on deck, with a telescope in his hand, looking at the desolate coast, when he suddenly cried out,--

"There are several persons standing on the beach."

"They are pelicans," said the captain. "At a distance they are often mistaken for human beings."

"Human beings they are," said the Professor; "and, good heavens! there is a woman among them. They have a white handkerchief elevated as a signal of distress."

The captain took the telescope, and, after looking through it, said,--

"You are right. There are several men; and there is a woman among them."

"This coast is uninhabited," said the Professor. "Who can they be?"

"Persons escaped from some wreck," said the captain.

"Put the ship about! Run her in towards the land! They must be rescued!"

cried the Professor.

"I dare not do it; the water is shoal," said the captain. "We must stop the engines and lower a boat."

The order was given; the engines stop, and the boat lowered, and into it leaped Toney and the Professor; while six seamen manned the oars. The boat put off from the vessel; and the sailors pulling with a will, they were soon approaching the sh.o.r.e. Several men were seen standing on a rock, and one of them was waving a white handkerchief. They cheered, and were responded to by the loud huzzas of the party in the boat, which grounded within a few yards of the sh.o.r.e. The Professor's gaze was intently fixed on some object at the base of the rock.

It was a young and beautiful woman. She was standing, with her eyes upturned and her hands clasped, as if thanking Heaven for their deliverance.

The Professor leaped into the water, and rushed to the beach. He stood for a moment gazing at the beautiful girl. He then rushed forward and exclaimed,--

"Dora!"

As she heard his voice she started, and then, with a joyful cry of recognition, uttered his name, and was caught in his arms as, overcome with emotion, she was falling to the ground.

CHAPTER LI.

Major Stanhope, the father of Dora, and an officer in the army of the United States, had been stationed at San Francisco. His wife was dead and he had no child except Dora. They had resided in California about a year, when the gallant soldier, who had never recovered from the effects of a wound received in the storming of Chapultepec, found his health rapidly failing, and was soon removed to another sphere of existence.

Dora's nearest relative, her father's sister, resided in the State of Virginia, and the young girl had taken pa.s.sage on a vessel bound for Panama, with the intention of returning to the place of her nativity and residing with her aunt. The vessel was old and unseaworthy, and went to pieces in a violent storm encountered off the coast of Lower California.

The boats in which the crew and pa.s.sengers sought safety were swamped, with the exception of one, which reached the sh.o.r.e in a leaky condition; and if the Professor had not happened to take up the captain's telescope when he did, Dora and the six other human beings, who were thus discovered, would have perished on that desolate coast.

In a romantic valley of the Old Dominion Dora and the Professor had known each other in former days. The young man had tenderly loved the beautiful maiden, and his affection was secretly reciprocated; but on a certain occasion, while under the influence of temporary pique or caprice, Dora had rejected the man whom she deeply and sincerely loved, and they met no more, until, after the lapse of seven long years, fate brought them together on the sh.o.r.es of the Pacific Ocean.

The weather continued to be fine, and the day after Dora had been brought on board, she had recovered from the effects of fatigue and exposure and came on deck with a beautiful bloom on her cheeks. The deportment of the Professor was now strangely altered. He was no longer the man of wit and humor, and during the remainder of the voyage never uttered a joke. When the young maiden was on deck, he was constantly at her side, and when she retired to her state-room, he would sit for hours in a mood of mental abstraction.

"What is the matter with him?" said Tom to Toney, as, on a certain night, they were pacing to and fro on deck and puffing their cheroots.

"Yonder he sits, gazing at the moon, and won't talk to anybody. What do you think he called me just now?"

"What?" asked Toney.

"He called me Miss Dora."

"Did he?" said Toney, laughing.

"He did, indeed."

"It was by way of retaliation," said Toney.

"Retaliation? How?"

"You used to call him Ida."

"When?"

"When you were in Doubting Castle."

"What sort of a place is that?"

"You ought to know; you dwelt in it for some time. Poor Charley is in Doubting Castle. Let him alone. He will soon get out. I have observed the demeanor of the young lady when they were together, and I know, from certain unmistakable signs, that Charley will not have to listen to another negative. All is right. He will soon be the same jovial and agreeable companion he has. .h.i.therto been."

"He is a very disagreeable fellow now," said Tom.

"He used to say the same thing of you when you called him Ida, and would not let him sleep with your incessant somniloquism."

"I think we should call ourselves the Silent Philosophers," said Tom.

"Harry and Clarence are thoughtful and taciturn, except when they are complaining about the slowness of the vessel. As for Charley, I believe he would not care if we were on a voyage of circ.u.mnavigation around the globe, now he has Dora on board."

"Our voyage on the Pacific is ended," said Toney. "Yonder is Panama."

"Where?" cried Tom.

"Do you not see the lights along the land?" said Toney.

The voice of the captain was now heard issuing orders, which satisfied Tom that they were about to go into port.

CHAPTER LII.

On the following morning, having landed on the soil of Central America, they started across the Isthmus. Dora rode on a little mule, and the Professor walked by her side, holding the bridle. Toney and Tom, with Clarence and Harry, proceeded on foot, Hercules bringing up the rear with a huge club in his hand. It was wonderful to witness the tender solicitude of the Professor for Dora. Along the road were a number of small houses, where the natives sold fruit and coffee to travelers, who came in crowds after a steamer had arrived at Panama. At these houses Dora's mule would halt, and the Professor would go in, and come forth with a nice cup of coffee; and as the young maiden put it to her lips her beautiful blue eyes would be peeping over the top of the cup at the smiling face of her escort with a most tender expression. He would then select the most delicious fruit and hand it to Dora, who would receive it with a sweet smile, which made some of the rough miners, pa.s.sing, imagine that an angel sat on the back of the little mule.