Thirty minutes sped by, and Mollie and Marie were again on board the San Francisco. Then came the orders to weigh anchor, much to the astonishment of all the crew, and the vessel moved slowly toward the fortress at the point of the harbor. As the San Francisco approached the north water battery, the sound of a gun was heard, and the flag on the battery-staff was dipped twice, then a red streamer was run up the staff, and a boat put off from the mole. "Hard aport, Mr. Navigator, and stop the ship," cried the captain, who was standing on the bridge by the side of Mollie, who had been invited there as the commander of the vessel for a day. Slowly the great ship ceased on her course, and awaited the little craft, which came rushing through the water, propelled by a lipthalene screw. "The dispatch boat, sir," said the officer of the deck, touching his cap. "So I perceive," returned the captain. "You will receive the dispatches and cast her off, as we must not delay." "Very well, sir;" and the officer again saluted, and passed to the companion-way. A moment later the dispatches had been received, and handed to Captain Gordon. Breaking the port seal, he read the dispatch; then, hesitating a moment, he handed it to Mollie, and noted the sudden paleness of her face as she slowly reached forth her hand and took it. With a feeling of impending evil, she read the paper: "WASHINGTON, January 4, 15 D. "_To Captain Gordon, U. S. L. San Francisco, San Diego, Cal._ "(Due at and hold.) "Proceed to San Francisco at once. Make no delays. C. SCOFIELD, "_Secretary of Navy_." With a beating heart and a quivering lip, the girl handed it back. "And you will obey this order?" she slowly asked. "It is imperative," he replied. Almost out of the harbor, almost away from the chance of a telegram, she had become happy and cheerful once more. Now it was changed: this man would not dare, no matter how she prayed, to violate such an order. Bursting into tears, a woman's resource to relieve her overcharged heart, she looked into his face, and again asked: "And you will obey these instructions?" "Damn it; no! I--pardon me, I--I--well, damn it! the course of this vessel will not be changed; she goes to Guadalupe Island. There!" blowing as if from some great exertion, and wiping his forehead in a vigorous manner. "If they dismiss me from the service for it, you shall perform your mission on that island," and the good old man walked to the extremity of the bridge to hide his agitation, and escape the thanks which Mollie was about to shower upon him. The sea was rough, and the southwest winds blowing a small gale, a combination that told on the speed of the San Francisco, swift as she was. The 350 miles became nearly 450, and it was not until 4 dial the next day, that anchors were cast in the harbor of Noniva, Guadalupe Island.