“You bet it is; making a few dollars too. There is nothing I won’t trade in. Now, those curios o’ yours—they did tempt me. I guess you’d better sell. The white ants may eat them all if they lie long at Guayaquil.”

“I’ve provided against that. They’re all preserved in tin cases; but as they are for my uncle, I wouldn’t sell them for the world.”

“What! you’re goin’ to pawn them then?”

“No, no, no; I don’t mean that uncle. I mean my uncle Robert; who, like yourself, is a splendid fellow and a thorough sailor. And I’m sure he’ll be delighted to make your acquaintance if ever he has the good luck to meet you.”

“Give us your hand, young man. That little speech is good enough for the senate. I say, what a pity you ain’t a true-born American. I guess you’re a sailor yourself out and out.”

Tom was indeed a sailor out and out. When he went on deck next day he found that the ’Liza Ann, with all sail set and almost dead before the wind, was ploughing and plunging southwards through the Gulf of Guayaquil. The anchor had been weighed, and a start made in the moonlight long before the sun or Tom either had dreamt of rising.

“Young man, come in to breakfast,” said a voice behind him. “Ye can’t live without eating, you know. Good-morning. I hope you slept—and your cat? Droll idee a cat. Ha, ha! Well, come and tuck in a bit. Why, you’re looking better already.”

Talking thus, Captain Barnaby Blunt led the way into the poop, which was flush with the upper deck in the grand old fashion. He pointed to two chairs.

“There’s a seat for you, sirr, and one for your friend. Droll idee, truly. Ha, ha, ha! Looks as wise as a Christian, and I daresay is better than many. Now, sirr, you see what’s on the table. Eat, drink, and be merry; and during all this voyage I’m your servant, Brandy’s your slave, and you’ve nothing to do but get well.”

Before touching a knife or fork, however, this strange Yankee lifted his right hand piously to his ear to ask a blessing. It was quite the length of a short prayer, but evidently came right away from the speaker’s heart.