plaza, as of the heathens singing psalms through their noses; that for
many days after an odor of salt codfish prevailed in the settlement;
that a dozen hard nutmegs, which were unfit for spice or seed, were
found in the possession of the wife of the baker, and that several
bushels of shoe pegs, which bore a pleasing resemblance to oats, but
were quite inadequate to the purposes of provender, were discovered
in the stable of the blacksmith. But when the reader reflects upon the
sacredness of a Yankee trader's word, the stringent discipline of
the Spanish port regulations, and the proverbial indisposition of my
countrymen to impose upon the confidence of a simple people, he will at
once reject this part of the story.


A roll of drums, ushering in the year 1798, awoke the Commander. The sun
was shining brightly, and the storm had ceased. He sat up in bed, and
through the force of habit rubbed his left eye. As the remembrance of
the previous night came back to him, he jumped from his couch and ran
to the window. There was no ship in the bay. A sudden thought seemed to
strike him, and he rubbed both of his eyes. Not content with this, he
consulted the metallic mirror which hung beside his crucifix. There
was no mistake; the Commander had a visible second eye--a right one--as
good, save for the purposes of vision, as the left.

Whatever might have been the true secret of this transformation, but
one opinion prevailed at San Carlos. It was one of those rare miracles
vouchsafed a pious Catholic community as an evidence to the heathen,
through the intercession of the blessed San Carlos himself. That their
beloved Commander, the temporal defender of the Faith, should be the
recipient of this miraculous manifestation was most fit and seemly. The
Commander himself was reticent; he could not tell a falsehood--he dared