The priests of the mission must also be visited and prepared for
the wedding. Miguel's heart softens. He thinks of his bright-eyed
Californian bride waiting in her home, soon to be Seftora Peralta.

In twenty days Don Miguel arranges his inland voyage. While his
assistants speed abroad, he pays visits of ceremony to the clergy
and his lovely bride.

The great day of his life arrives. Clad in rich uniform, he crosses
to the eastern shore. A breeze of morning moves. The planet of
love is on high. It is only the sun tinting the bay with golden
gleams. Never a, steamer yet has ploughed these silent waters.

Morning's purple folds Tamalpais in a magic mantle. Rolling surges
break on the bar outside the Golden Gate. Don Miguel, attended by
friends, receives his bride, the Rose of Alameda. Shallops wait.
The merry party sails for the western shore. Fluttering flags
decorate this little navy of San Francisco.

Merry laughter floats from boat to boat. The tinkle of the guitar
sounds gaily. Two hours end this first voyage of a new life.

At the embarcadero of Yerba Buena the party descends. They are met
by a procession of all the notables of the mission and Presidio.
Hardy riders and ladies, staid matrons and blooming senoritas, have
gathered also from Santa Clara, Napa, and Sonoma. The one government
brig is crowded with a merry party from Monterey.

The broad "camino real" sweeps three miles over sand dunes to the