He waved his hand towards the Comandante, who, stepping forward, swept the deck with his plumed hat before each of the ladies in solemn succession.  Recovering himself, he bowed more stiffly to the male passengers, picked his handkerchief out of the hilt of his sword, gracefully wiped his lips, pulled the end of his long gray moustache, and became again rigid.

“The reverend father,” continued Senor Perkins, turning towards the priest, “regrets that the rules of his order prevent his extending the same courtesy to these ladies at the Mission.  But he hopes to meet them at the Presidio, and they will avail themselves of his aid and counsel there and everywhere.”

Father Esteban, following the speaker’s words with a gracious and ready smile, at once moved forward among the passengers, offering an antique snuff-box to the gentlemen, or passing before the ladies with slightly uplifted benedictory palms and a caressing paternal gesture.  Mrs. Brimmer, having essayed a French sentence, was delighted and half frightened to receive a response from the ecclesiastic, and speedily monopolized him until he was summoned by the Commander to the returning boat.

“A most accomplished man, my dear,” said Mrs. Brimmer, as the Excelsior’s cannon again thundered after the retiring oars, “like all of his order.  He says, although Don Miguel does not speak French, that his secretary does; and we shall have no difficulty in making ourselves understood.”

“Then you really intend to go ashore?” said Miss Keene timidly.

“Decidedly,” returned Mrs. Brimmer potentially.  “It would be most unpolite, not to say insulting, if we did not accept the invitation.  You have no idea of the strictness of Spanish etiquette.  Besides, he may have heard of Mr. Brimmer.”

“As his last information was only up to 1792, he might have forgotten it,” said Crosby gravely.  “So perhaps it would be safer to go on the general invitation.”

“As Mr. Brimmer’s ancestors came over on the Mayflower, long before 1792, it doesn’t seem so very impossible, if it comes to that,” said Mrs. Brimmer, with her usual unanswerable naivete; “provided always that you are not joking, Mr. Crosby.  One never knows when you are serious.”

“Mrs. Brimmer is quite right; we must all go.  This is no mere formality,” said Senor Perkins, who had returned to the ladies.  “Indeed, I have myself promised the Comandante to bring you,” he turned towards Miss Keene, “if you will permit Mrs. Markham and myself to act as your escort.  It was Don Miguel’s express request.”

A slight flush of pride suffused the cheek of the young girl, but the next moment she turned diffidently towards Mrs. Brimmer.

“We must all go together,” she said; “shall we not?”

“You see your triumphs have begun already,” said Brace, with a nervous smile.  “You need no longer laugh at me for predicting your fate in San Francisco.”