When the baby was undressed it was discovered that a slender gold chain was clasped about his neck. Attached to it was a golden ball covered with a tracery of unique and elaborate engraving. It was apparently hollow; but nobody was able to open it, nor could they discover any joint on its surface, so skilful was the workmanship that had created it. Finally, declaring that it was merely an ornament and not meant to be opened, Mrs. McCloud put it carefully away in a sandal-wood box, among her own little hoard of treasures. In that box the golden ball lay for years, almost unnoticed, but ever guarding jealously the secret that some day should exert such a wonderful influence over the fortunes of the baby from whose neck it had been taken. CHAPTER II. ON BOARD THE “CURLEW.” Fifteen years seems a long time, and yet when they are happy years how quickly they pass! They had been happy to Breeze McCloud; happy and busy years. No boy in Gloucester had a pleasanter home or more loving parents than he, though he was but an adopted son. He rarely thought of this, though, for Captain McCloud had, from the very first, been a true father, and the captain’s wife a loving mother to him. No other children had come to them since they had taken him into their hearts and home, and he was their pride and delight. He had grown to be a tall, handsome fellow, interested in his studies, and a bright scholar, but always impatient for the time to come when he should go out into the world and win from it his own livelihood. Whenever Captain McCloud was at home the boy was his constant companion, and from him Breeze eagerly learned the rudiments of a sailor’s art. He delighted in being called his father’s “dorymate,” and was very proud of being able to swim, and to row and sail his own dory, before he was twelve years old. Being so much in his father’s company, and listening to the conversations between him and other men, gave Breeze many ideas beyond the comprehension of most boys of his age. He sometimes wore a grave and thoughtful air, and often said wise things that sounded oddly enough in one so young. The boy’s curly head was a familiar sight on board most of the fishing schooners that were constantly coming into or going out of the port. Here he was perfectly happy while listening to some tale of adventure on the Banks or more distant fishing grounds, perhaps told by its hero on the breezy deck or in the snug cabin of the very craft on which it had all happened. At last the time had come for him to set forth in quest of similar adventures, and to do his share towards maintaining the home that had been such a safe and pleasant one to him. There was sorrow in it now, and there might soon be want. The _Sea Robin_ had been gone six months, and no word had been received from her since the day she sailed out beyond Eastern Point, and vanished in the red glory of the rising sun.