‘And now, Mr. Monteagle,’ continued Clara, ‘to prove to you that I am really penitent; I will divulge to you a contemplated crime, which was planned in this very house, and this night it is to be carried into effect. Belcher Kay and Blodget one night killed a rich old drover, and buried him in an old adobe hut. They have since learned that Inez, the daughter of old de Castro, had taken shelter in the building from a storm and witnessed all their proceedings. The Vigilance Committee are already apprised of the facts, but in Miss de Castro’s terror at the fearful scene, she forgot the names by which they addressed each other; but she is convinced that she will know their persons if ever she meets them. You know these villains will never consent to live in hourly fear of arrest and punishment. They have, therefore, determined to attack the mansion of de Castro, at the Mission, rob it, and I fear kill his daughter to prevent her appearing as a witness against them.’ -------------- CHAPTER XII INEZ CARRIED OFF. In a public room of a tavern in Pacific street, we shall find Belcher Kay. It is night, and through the thick haze of cigar smoke which filled the room the candles glimmer like distant lights seen through a fog. The close atmosphere of the dirty room is laden with the odor of the said tobacco smoke, and with the fumes of rum and whiskey, and through the hum of noisy conversation and over the occasional bursts of laughter may be distinguished the ‘Hagel und donner’ of the Dutchman, the ‘sacre’ of the Frenchman, and the imprecations which the Englishman invokes upon his visual organs and the crimson tide that circulates through his veins. At one table sat half a dozen sailors, bronzed by the tropical sun of Java, and smoking long pipes with enormous bowls. At another table sat a group of English, French, American and Portuguese, similarly engaged, while two other tables were surrounded by Lascars and Malays, who being worshippers of the one race of Brahma, the other of Boodha, choose to sit and drink apart. Mingled with the men at each table were a number of Kanaka and Chilean women, dark-eyed, seductive creatures; all well formed, lithe, and graceful, and of all ages varying from twelve to eighteen years, for beneath the scorching sun of the tropics woman advances towards maturity as quickly as the rich fruits are ripened and the gorgeous flowers expanded into beauty. These lost and degraded creatures sat by the side or on the knees of their lovers of the hour, their long, shining black hair falling in plaits or ringlets upon their dusky shoulders, and their bosoms very much exposed, and many of them smoked cigars with their male companions.