and hence the search was stopped ere it had scarce begun;
though hope lingered in longing hearts for many years.

The Fuwalda, a barkentine of about one hundred tons,
was a vessel of the type often seen in coastwise trade
in the far southern Atlantic, their crews composed of
the offscourings of the sea--unhanged murderers and
cutthroats of every race and every nation.

The Fuwalda was no exception to the rule. Her officers
were swarthy bullies, hating and hated by their crew.
The captain, while a competent seaman, was a brute in his
treatment of his men. He knew, or at least he used, but two
arguments in his dealings with them--a belaying pin and a
revolver--nor is it likely that the motley aggregation
he signed would have understood aught else.

So it was that from the second day out from Freetown
John Clayton and his young wife witnessed scenes upon the
deck of the Fuwalda such as they had believed were never
enacted outside the covers of printed stories of the sea.

It was on the morning of the second day that the first link
was forged in what was destined to form a chain of circumstances
ending in a life for one then unborn such as has never been
paralleled in the history of man.

Two sailors were washing down the decks of the Fuwalda,
the first mate was on duty, and the captain had stopped to
speak with John Clayton and Lady Alice.