"My daughter, you shall go as you desire, and may God watch over you. Now see your mother and inform her, and then prepare for your journey." She again kissed him, and left the room. At 19 dial the two girls, clad in traveling-dresses, and with grips in their hands, entered the depot, and were soon cozily ensconced in the fourth sleeper of the Central Pneumatic, No. 5, west. "What will Lester say when he does not find me in the conservatory to-night?" sighed Mollie. "And what will Hugh say when he returns and finds me gone?" and another deep sigh could have been heard. "But I left a letter for him," with a sly glance toward the other. "And I left a note for Hugh," glancing toward Mollie. Their eyes met, and a smile lighted up both faces. "Oh! you did?" from Mollie. "Ah! you did?" retorted Marie. On rushed the train. Miles upon miles were left behind them, and the hours sped by. They should be at El Paso at 6:30 dial the next morning, and at San Diego at 10 dial. It would be nearly 11 dial before they would be able to search for a vessel to take them to Guadalupe. The time was passing, and it was with a troubled mind that Mollie surveyed the route and the time at her command. With beating hearts, the two girls watched the hours pass as the train rushed along to the Pacific; eagerly did they look for the approach of the city by the sea. It was 12 dial when the train reached the city of San Diego. Quickly disembarking, the girls entered a drag, and were rapidly propelled to the Great Pacific. Once within the office of the hotel, Mollie excitedly asked for information as to what lipthaleners were in the port. "None, madame," was the calm reply of the clerk. Her heart sank within her bosom at the words. "There are none but sailing vessels in the harbor; will madame have use for one of them?" continued the man, noticing her agitation. "No; and yes--I cannot tell. Show us a room and serve breakfast there, and at once," was the impatient reply. During their breakfast, the two girls discussed the situation, but without arriving at any solution as to how they would reach Guadalupe Island. Having partaken of a light repast, they proceeded to the docks to find some means of transportation to the island. Not a lipthalener was in port, and but few sailing vessels. To her inquiries, Mollie was informed that the island was 120 leagues southwest, and no sailing vessel could make the voyage in less than three days, with the best of winds; and that the chances were that it would take five. Disheartened, she and Marie turned back to the hotel. Fate was against them, and they would not be able to rescue the imprisoned girl ere another year had come and passed. Would the woman live through another year? Would she not die, if yet alive? _Was_ she yet alive? Such were the questions Mollie asked herself. Often and often she went out on the porch, and scanned the horizon for the approach of a lipthalener.