These were some of the thoughts occupying Jim’s mind as the leaky old ark lounged her way along the coast.  The captain, on the other hand, talked freely to his mate as to his own thoughts, prompted no doubt by close companionship and the idea of becoming brothers-in-law.  He told Leigh that both of them would be very wealthy some day, but Jim kept his counsel.  He had resolved that if the subject was mentioned by the Spaniard again he would make himself scarce.

On their arrival at Iquique, Leigh received more letters from home.  He went to the owner’s house, and in the course of the evening the old gentleman asked him right out to marry his daughter.  Mr. Leigh was confused, and said he would like to save a little more money.

“Never mind the money.  You will have plenty of that,” said the father.

It was duly arranged that the wedding should take place at the end of the next trip, and on the strength of that there was much rejoicing at the villa, in which James Leigh heartily joined.  He was pressed to stay all night with the happy family, but he said that he could not do so, owing to pressing official duties; so he bade his usual adieux, and slipped out into the balmy night and made his way aboard the vessel.  He packed his belongings in a bag, woke the captain, who was asleep in his berth, shook hands with him, and said—­

“Good-bye, Dutchy. You can do what you blessed well like, but I am off.”

And before the captain had recovered from his sleepy amazement his mate had slipped over the side into a boat.  That was the last Dutchy ever saw of his prospective brother-in-law.

James Leigh stowed himself away aboard a Yankee full-rigged packet-ship which had to sail the following morning, and when the coast was clear he made his appearance.  He was subjected for a time to that brutal treatment which at one time disgraced the American mercantile marine,[3] but being a smart young fellow who could do the work of a competent seaman, and handle his “dukes” with aptitude, the officers began to show partiality towards him, and before many days he became quite a favourite with them and with the captain.  To his surprise, when the vessel had been at Philadelphia a few days, he was asked to qualify for the second officer’s berth.  He received the compliment with modest reserve, but his inward pride gave him trouble to control.  This was a position of no mean order even to men far beyond his years, but the thought of serving as an officer under the magic Stars and Stripes was more fascinating than any pride he had in the size of the vessel.  A life of slash and dash was just the kind of experience that appealed to a full-blooded rip like Jim Leigh, so that he needed no persuading to take the offer, and adapt himself with fervour to the new conditions, which invested him with the knuckle-duster, the belaying pin, and the six-shooter.  The Betty Sharp was chartered for London instead of the Far East, as was expected, and twenty days after passing Cape Henry she entered the Thames; but even in that short time the sprightly officer had made quite a name for himself, by his methods of training and taming a heterogeneous team of packet rats.