“I will tell you what it is,” said he; “a corpse is the cause.”

And then he told them all about it.  James Leigh’s change of life, manner, and habits dated from the dreaded night when he saw with his own eyes the ghastly figure of what he believed to be a murdered man.  From being a roving, reckless, devil-may-care sailor, he settled into a steady, ambitious, capable man.  He married a Welsh girl after his own heart, and forgot all about the daughter of the old Spaniard, who, if subsequent accounts were correct, pined for his return to Chili.  Mrs. Leigh resented any allusion to the Spanish maiden.  She always reminded her husband that people should marry their own countrywomen, and that instead of thinking of her he should be using his mind in attaining that knowledge that would enable him to reach the height of his profession.  He was not long in satisfying the lady’s ambition and his own.  In less than five years from leaving the Yankee ship he was in command of a smart, up-to-date English steamer, trading between Mozambique and Zanzibar, trafficking in slaves and other merchandise.  He made heaps of money for his owners, and was gifted with an aptitude for never neglecting himself in matters of finance.  In due course the trade collapsed, and he was ordered to bring his vessel home.  By this time his savings from several sources had accumulated to a decent little fortune, and with it he resolved to start business on his own account.  He sought the aid of a few friends, and was enabled to purchase a small steamer.  It was while he was on a visit to this much-boasted-of craft that he came across Shorty at a fair outside Cardiff.  The rugged ex-boatswain had a machine for trying strength, and asked him to have a go.  Captain Leigh recognized his old shipmate by a defect in his speech, and made himself known.  Shorty was filled with delight, and would have given him the whole show.  He rushed off, called out to a lady who was attending to the machine, and brought her to be introduced.

“This is my bit o’ cracklen, Jim.  She’s a good ’un, she is.  Now, don’t ye be a-fallin’ in love with her, James, as you used to with the other girls out in Chili, ancetera, ancetera.  Don’t ye reckonize her?  Don’t ye remember that fine hotel we landed in, and the wardrobe and one or two other incidents?”

“I do,” said Captain James Leigh; “but surely this is not?”

“Yes, it is,” said the proud husband.  “It’s she, isn’t it, chubby?”

The lady merely nodded her head and smiled.

“Then what have you been doing, Shorty, all these years?”

“This,” said he, pointing to the show.  “I never got over the ’orror of that night, so I made my mind up not to go a rovin’ agen; and this ’ere girl, that I thought so badly of, ‘as helped me to make a livin’ ever since I came across her.  Very queer, you was right; she was sort o’ confined to the ‘ouse, but had nothin’ to do with the corpse.  She didn’t know of it until I told her.”