Miss Keene winced with annoyance.  Was everybody going crazy, or was there anything more in this catastrophe that had only enfeebled the minds of her countrywomen!  For here was the severe, strong-minded Mrs. Markham actually preoccupied, like Mrs. Brimmer, with utterly irrelevant particulars, and apparently powerless to grasp the fact that they were abandoned on a half hostile strand, and cut off by half a century from the rest of the world.

“As to the letter,” said Mrs. Markham, quietly, “there it is.  There’s nothing in it that might not have been written by a friend.”

Miss Keene took the letter.  It was written in a delicate, almost feminine hand.  She could not help noticing that in one or two instances corrections had been made and blots carefully removed with an eraser.

“Midnight, on the Excelsior.

“My friend:  When you receive this I shall probably be once more on the bosom of that mysterious and mighty element whose majesty has impressed us, whose poetry we have loved, and whose moral lessons, I trust, have not been entirely thrown away upon us.  I go to the deliverance of one of those oppressed nations whose history I have often recited to you, and in whose destiny you have from time to time expressed a womanly sympathy.  While it is probable, therefore, that my motives may not be misunderstood by you, or even other dear friends of the Excelsior, it is by no means impossible that the celerity and unexpectedness of my action may not be perfectly appreciated by the careless mind, and may seem to require some explanation.  Let me then briefly say that the idea of debarking your goods and chattels, and parting from your delightful company at Todos Santos, only occurred to me on our unexpected—­shall I say providential?—­arrival at that spot; and the necessity of expedition forbade me either inviting your cooperation or soliciting your confidence.  Human intelligence is variously constituted—­or, to use a more homely phrase, ’many men have many minds’—­and it is not impossible that a premature disclosure of my plans might have jeopardized that harmony which you know it has been my desire to promote.  It was my original intention to have landed you at Mazatlan, a place really inferior in climate and natural attractions to Todo Santos, although, perhaps, more easy of access and egress; but the presence of an American steamer in the offing would have invested my enterprise with a certain publicity foreign, I think, to all our tastes.  Taking advantage, therefore, of my knowledge of the peninsular coast, and the pardonable ignorance of Captain Bunker, I endeavored, through my faithful subordinates, to reach a less known port, and a coast rarely frequented by reason of its prevailing fog.  Here occurred one of those dispensations of an overruling power which, dear friend, we have so often discussed.  We fell in with an unknown current, and were guided by a mysterious hand into the bay of Todos Santos!