headed
towards me. He did not even seem to see me at first; but as he was
about to cross my path, he could not well help doing so. He raised his
Panama hat, and bowed politely to me. He evidently did not mean to stop
to speak to me; but I hailed him, and asked where the custom-house was.
He described the building, and indicated in what direction I was to go.

"If you will excuse me for a few moments, Captain Garningham, I will
join you," said he, hurrying along towards the St. Augustine Hotel,
which faces the harbor.

The Floridian certainly did not seem to be very anxious to make an
engagement with me; and this fact improved his chances with me. I went
to the custom-house, and transacted my business there. As I came out
with the mate, I met Mr. Cornwood at the door. I introduced Washburn to
him; and the Floridian was as polite to him as to me.

"I am at your service, gentlemen; and, pardon me, captain, without
regard to any future engagement," said Mr. Cornwood, with an extra
flourish, as he turned to me.

"Thanks. I think you said you were born in Florida," I added.

"Not only in Florida, but here in St. Augustine. If you doubt my
statement, I will show you the house in which I first drew the breath
of life," he replied, with a deprecatory smile.

Showing the house would prove it; but I thought more of the fact that
he seemed to have an inkling of my trouble in regard to his statements.
I told him I was willing to accept his statement without seeing the
house.

"My father and mother both died of consumption," he continued. "They
came down here from Virginia, and lived twenty years longer than they
would in the Old Dominion. My father left me twelve thousand dollars,
every cent of which I spent in travelling in this state. But here is
your party, captain."

Our passengers were strolling along St. George Street when we met them.

CHAPTER IV.

A TRIP UP THE SAN SEBASTIAN.

Strange as it may seem, the Shepards, though they had resided two
winters in Jacksonville, had never been to St. Augustine, or even up
the St. Johns River. The state of Mrs. Shepard's health had not
permitted her to travel for several years, until the preceding summer.
They had simply left the ancient city and the up-river glories of "The
Land of Flowers" to a more propitious season in the future.

"How do you like the looks of St. Augustine, Miss Edith?" I asked,
after we had passed the civilities of the moment, though I did not