; and indeed, under old
Mexican administration, it would have been but slight blame, or shame,
to him. And not such a great deal either under the new, at the time of
which we write, but perhaps still less. Compared with other crimes then
rife in California, contrabandism might almost be reckoned an honest
calling.

But Rafael Rocas has a repute for doings of a yet darker kind. With
those slightly acquainted with him it is only suspicion; but a few of
his more intimate associates can say for certain that he is not
disinclined to a stroke of road robbery or a job at housebreaking; so
that, if times have changed for the worse, he has not needed any change
to keep pace with them.

It is the day on which the British frigate sailed from San Francisco
Bay, and he is in his hut; not alone, but in the company of three men,
in personal appearance altogether unlike himself. While he wears the
common garb of a Californian fisherman--loose pea-coat of coarse canvas,
rough water-boots, and seal-skin cap--they are attired in costly
stuffs--cloaks of finest broadcloth, _jaquetas_ of rich velvet, and
_cahoneras_, lashed with gold lace, and gleaming with constellations of
buttons.

Notwithstanding their showy magnificence, the seal-hunter, smuggler, or
whatever he may be, does not appear to treat his guests with any
obsequious deference. On the contrary, he is engaged with them in
familiar converse, and by his tone and gestures, showing that he feels
himself their equal.

Two of the individuals thus oddly consorting are already well known to
the reader--the third but slightly. The former are Francisco de Lara
and Faustino Calderon; the latter is Don Manuel Diaz, famed for his
fighting cocks. The first two have just entered under Rocas' roof,
finding the cockfighter already there, as De Lara predicted.

After welcoming his newly arrived guests in Spanish-American fashion,
placing his house at their disposal--"_Mia casa a la disposition de
Vms_,"--the seal-hunter has set before them a bottle of his best
liquor--this being _aguardiente_ of Tequila. They have taken off their
outer apparel--cloaks and hats--and are seated around a small deal
table, the only one the shanty contains--its furniture being of the
scantiest and most primitive kind.

Some conversation of a desultory nature has passed between them; but
they have now entered on a subject more interesting and particular, the
keynote having been struck by De Lara. He op