heard enough to make her feverish to hear
more. She knew the intricacies of the shrubbery thoroughly. She knew
every foot of shade and cover of the clearing, and creeping like a cat
from bush to bush she managed, without being discovered, to keep
the party in sight and hearing all the time. It required no great
discernment, even for an inexperienced woman like herself, at the end of
an hour, to gather their real purpose. It was to prepare for the secret
landing of an armed force, disguised as laborers, who, under the outward
show of quarrying in the bluff, were to throw up breastworks, and
fortify the craggy shelf. The landing was fixed for that night, and was
to be effected by a vessel now cruising outside the Heads.

She understood it all now. She remembered Marion's speech about the
importance of the bluff for military purposes; she remembered the visit
of the officers from the Fort opposite. The strangers were stealing a
march upon the Government, and by night would be in possession. It was
perhaps an evidence of her newly awakened and larger comprehension that
she took no thought of her loss of home and property,--perhaps there was
little to draw her to it now,--but was conscious only of a more terrible
catastrophe--a catastrophe to which she was partly accessory, of
which any other woman would have warned her husband--or at least those
officers of the Fort whose business it was to--Ah, yes! the officers of
the Fort--only just opposite to her! She trembled, and yet flushed with
an inspiration. It was not too late yet--why not warn them NOW?

But how? A message sent by Saucelito and the steamboat to San
Francisco--the usual way--would not reach them tonight. To go herself,
rowing directly across in the dingey, would be the only security of
success. If she could do it? It was a long pull--the sea was getting
up--but she would try.

She waited until the last man had stepped into the boat, in nervous
dread of some one remaining. Then, when the boat had vanished round
the Point again, she ran back to the cottage, arrayed herself in her
husband's pilot coat, hat, and boots, and launched the dingey. It was a
heavy, slow, but luckily a stanch and seaworthy boat. It was not until
she was well off shore that she began to feel the full fury of the wind
and waves, and knew the difficulty and danger of her undertaking. She
had decided that her shortest and most direct course was within a few
points of the wind, but the quarte