"Go in there, my man, and cook will attend to you."
Larry pa.s.sed through the doorway pointed out with a pleasant, fluttering sensation at the heart, which was quickly changed to a feeling of considerable disappointment on discovering that "cook" was a negro.
Meanwhile Lizette took two dollars from her purse, and bowing modestly to the strangers as she pa.s.sed out of the room, advanced with them towards the young porter.
Now, Lizette was _not_ beautiful--few women are, in the highest sense of the term, and the few who are, are seldom interesting; but she was pretty, and sweet, and innocent, and just turned sixteen. Fortunately for the male part of the world, there are many such. She had light-brown hair, which hung in dishevelled curls all round, a soft fair complexion, blue eyes, and a turned-up nose--a pert little nose that said plainly, "I _will_ have my own way; now see if I don"t." But the heart that animated the body to which that nose belonged, was a good, kind, earnest one; therefore, the nose having its own way was rather a blessing than otherwise to those happy individuals who dwelt habitually in the sunshine of Lizette"s presence.
At this particular time, ladies were scarce in California. The immense rush of men from all parts of the earth to the diggings had not been accompanied as yet by a corresponding rush of women, consequently the sight of a female face was, as it always ought to be, a source of comfort to mankind. We say "comfort" advisedly, because life at the gold-mines was a hard, riotous, mammon-seeking, rugged, and, we regret to say it, unG.o.dly life; and men, in whom the soft memories of "other days" were not entirely quenched, had need, sometimes, of the comforting reflection that there still existed beings on the earth who didn"t rant, and roar, and drink, and swear, and wear beards, and boots, and bowie-knives.
There was double cause, then, for the gaze of respectful admiration with which the young porter regarded Lizette, as she said, "Here is your fare, porter," and put the money into his hand, which he did not even thank her for, but continued to hold extended as if he wished her to take it back again.
Lizette did not observe the gaze, for she turned away immediately after giving him the money, and re-entered the parlour, whereupon the youth thrust both hands into his breeches-pockets, left the house, and returned slowly to the city, with the expression on his countenance of one who had seen a ghost.
Meanwhile Captain Bunting and Ned Sinton sat down with their host and hostess to a second breakfast, over which the former related the circ.u.mstances of the double loss of his crew and cargo.
"You are unfortunate," said Mr Thompson, when the captain paused; "but there are hundreds in nearly the same predicament. Many of the fine-looking vessels you see in the harbour have lain helplessly there for months, the crews having taken French leave, and gone off to the diggings."
"It"s awkward," said the captain, with a troubled expression, as he slowly raised a square lump of pork to his mouth; "what would you advise me to do?"
"Sell off the remnant of the cargo, and set up a floating boarding-house."
The square lump of pork disappeared, as the captain thrust it into his cheek in order to say, "What?" with a look of intense amazement.
Lizette laughed inadvertently, and, feeling that this was somewhat rude, she, in her effort to escape, plunged deeper into misfortune by turning to Sinton, with a blushing countenance, and asking him to take another cup of tea--a proposal that was obviously absurd, seeing that she had a moment before filled up his second cup.
Thus suddenly appealed to, Ned stammered, "Thank you--if you--ah!--no, thank you, not any more."
"Set up a floating boarding establishment," reiterated the merchant, in a tone of decision that caused them all to laugh heartily.
"It may sound strange," he continued, "but I a.s.sure you it"s not a bad speculation. The captain of an American schooner, whose crew deserted the very day she arrived, turned his vessel into a floating boarding-house, about two months ago, and I believe he"s making a fortune."
"Indeed," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the captain, helping himself to another ma.s.s of pork, and accepting Lizette"s proffer of a third cup of tea.
"You have no idea," continued the merchant, as he handed the bread to Ned, and pressed him to eat--"you have no idea of the strange state of things here just now, and the odd ways in which men make money. Owing to the rush of immigrants everything is enormously dear, and house-room is not to be had for love or money, so that if you were to fit up your ship for the purpose you could fill it at once. At the various hotels in the city an ordinary meal at the _table d"hote_ costs from two to three dollars--eight and twelve shillings of our money--and there are some articles that bear fabulous prices. It"s a fact that eggs at this moment sell at a shilling each, and onions and potatoes at the same price; but then wages are enormously high. How long this state of things will last no one can tell; in the meantime, hundreds of men are making fortunes. Only the other day a ship arrived from New York, and one of the pa.s.sengers, a `"cute" fellow, had brought out fifteen hundred copies of several newspapers, which he sold for a dollar each in less than two hours! Then, rents are tremendous. You will scarcely believe me when I tell you that the rent paid by the landlord of one of the hotels here is 110,000 dollars--about 22,000 pounds--a year, and it is but a poor building too. My own warehouse, which is a building of only one storey, with a front of twenty feet, is rented to me at 40,000 dollars--8000 pounds a year--and rents are rising."
Ned and the captain leaned back in their chairs aghast at such statements, and began to entertain some doubts as to the sanity of their host; but the worthy merchant was a grave, quiet man, without a particle of romance in his composition, and he went on coolly telling them facts which Ned afterwards said made his hair almost stand on end, when he thought of how little money he possessed, and how much he would have to pay for the bare necessaries of life.
After some further converse on men and things in general, and on prospects at the mines, Mr Thompson said, "And now, Captain Bunting, I"ll tell you what I"ll do. I will go down to your ship, overhaul the cargo, and make you an offer for the whole in the lump, taking the saleable with the unsaleable. This will, at any rate, put you in funds at once, and enable you to follow what course seems best. Will that suit you?"
"It will," said the captain, "and thank "ee. As for turning a boardin"-house keeper, I don"t think I"m cut out for it. Neither is my friend Sinton, eh?"
"Certainly not," answered Ned, laughing: "we might as well become washerwomen."
"You"d make a pretty good thing of it if you did," retorted Mr Thompson; "would they not, Lizette? you know more about these things than I do."
"Indeed, I cannot tell, papa, as I do not know the capabilities of our friends in that way; but I think the few washerwomen in the city must be making fortunes, for they charge two shillings a-piece for everything, large and small."
"Now, then, gentlemen," said the merchant, rising, "if you have quite finished, we will walk down to the harbour and inspect the goods."
An arch smile played round Lizette"s lips as she shook hands with Ned at parting, and she seemed on the point of speaking, but checked herself.
"I beg pardon," said Ned, pausing, "did you--"
"Oh, it was nothing!" said Lizette; "I was only going to remark that-- that if you set up in the washing line, I shall be happy to give you all the work I can."
"Ahem!" coughed Ned gravely, "and if we should set up in the _other_ line, will you kindly come and board with us?"
"Hallo, Ned, what"s keeping you?" roared the captain.
"Coming," shouted Ned, as he ran after him. "Where has Larry O"Neil gone?"
"He"s away down before us to have a look at the town. We shall find him, I doubt not, cruising about the quay."
In a few minutes the three friends were wending their way through the crowded streets back to the sh.o.r.e.
CHAPTER SEVEN.
THE FATE OF THE ROVING BESS--GAMBLING SCENES--MR. SINTON MAKES A NEW FRIEND--LARRY O"NEIL MAKES MONEY IN STRANGE WAYS--A MURDER, AND A BEGGAR"S DEATH--NED BECOMES A POOR MAN"S HEIR.
The remnant of the cargo of the _Roving Bess_ proved to be worth comparatively little--less even than had been antic.i.p.ated. After a careful inspection, Mr Thompson offered to purchase it "in the slump"
for 1000 dollars--about 200 pounds sterling. This was a heavy blow to poor Captain Bunting, who had invested his all--the savings of many years--in the present unfortunate venture. However, his was not a nature to brood over misfortunes that could not be avoided, so he accepted the sum with the best grace he might, and busied himself during the next few days in a.s.sisting the merchant to remove the bales.
During this period he did not converse much with any one, but meditated seriously on the steps he ought to take. From all that he heard, it seemed impossible to procure hands to man the ship at that time, so he began to entertain serious thoughts of "taking his chance" at the diggings after all. He was by nature averse to this, however; and had nearly made up his mind to try to beat up recruits for the ship, when an event occurred that settled the matter for him rather unexpectedly.
This event was the bursting out of a hurricane, or brief but violent squall, which, before a.s.sistance could be procured, dragged the _Roving Bess_ from her moorings, and stranded her upon the beach, just below the town. Here was an end to sea-faring prospects. The whole of his limited capital would not have paid for a tenth part of the labour necessary to refloat the ship, so he resolved to leave her on the beach, and go to the diggings.
Mr Thompson advised him to sell the hull, as it would fetch a good price for the sake of the timber, which at that time was much wanted in the town, but the captain had still a lurking hope that he might get his old ship afloat at some future period, and would not hear of it.
"What," said he, "sell the _Roving Bess_, which stands _A1_ at Lloyd"s, to be broken up to build gold-diggers houses? I trow not. No, no; let her lie where she is in peace."
On the day after the squall, as Ned and the captain were standing on the sh.o.r.e regarding their late floating, and now grounded, home in sad silence, a long-legged, lantern-jawed man, in dirty canvas trousers, long boots, a rough coat, and broad straw hat, with an enormous cigar in his mouth, and both hands in his trousers-pockets, walked up and accosted them. It did not require a second glance to know that he was a Yankee.
"Guess that "ere"s pretty wall fixed up, stranger," he said, addressing the captain, and pointing with his nose to the stranded vessel.
"It is," answered the captain, shortly.
"Fit for nothin" but firewood, I calculate."
To this the captain made no reply.
"I say, stranger," continued the Yankee, "I wouldn"t mind to give "e 1000 dollars for her slick off."
"I don"t wish to sell her," replied the captain.
"Say 1500," replied the man.
"I tell you, I _won"t_ sell her."