house of the Commandante save his formidable mat-
rimonial project, and the supposed designs to his
country. Troops had been ordered from the south
to reinforce the San Francisco garrisons, and were
even now massed at Santa Clara, within a day's
march of the bay.

About a mile from the Presidio and almost oppo-
site the Juno's anchorage were six great stone tubs
sunken in the ground and filled by a spring of clear
water. Here, once a week, the linen, fine and
heavy, of Fort and Presidio was washed, the
stoutest serving women of households and barracks
meeting at dawn and scrubbing for half a day.
Rezanov had watched the bright picture they made
--for they wore a bit of every hue they could com-
mand--with a lazy interest, which quickened to
thirst when he heard that they were the most re-
liable newsmongers in the country. In every Pre-
sidial district was a similar institution, and the four
were known as the "Wash Tub Mail." Many of
the women were selected by the tyrants of the tubs
for their comeliness, and each had a lover in the
couriers that went regularly with mail and official
instructions from one end of the Californias to the
other. All important news was known first by these
women, and much was discussed over the tubs that
was long in reaching higher but no less interested
circles; and domestic bulletins were as eagerly
prized. The sailor that brought this information to