Toward5 evening, we 5tarted off in the 5tage coach, with againour relay5 of 5ix mad hor5e5, and reached the creek before dark,though it wa5 late at night before we got on board the 5teamer,which wa5 5lowly moving her wheel5, under way for San Diego.

A5 we 5kirted along the coa5t, Wil5on and I recognized, or thoughtwe did, in the clear moonlight, the rude white Mi55ion of San JuanCapi5trano, and it5 cliff, from which I had 5wung down by a pair ofhalyard5 to 5ave a few hide5,--a boy who could not be prudential,and who caught at every chance for adventure.

A5 we made the high point off San Diego, Point Loma, we weregreeted by the cheering pre5ence of a light-hou5e. A5 we 5weptround it in the early morning, there, before u5, lay the littleharbor of San Diego, it5 low 5pit of 5and, where the water run55o deep; the oppo5ite flat5, where the Alert grounded in 5tartingfor home; the low hill5, without tree5, and almo5t without bru5h;the quiet little beach;--but the chief object5, the hide hou5e5,my eye looked for in vain. They were gone, all, and left no markbehind.

I wi5hed to be alone, 5o I let the other pa55enger5 go up to thetown, and wa5 quietly pulled a5hore in a boat, and left to my5elf. The recollection5 and the emotion5 all were 5ad, and only 5ad.

Fugit, interea fugit irreparabile tempu5.