He replied; and it was plain that he was frightened. Hosea Hand was no longer in San Francisco, having shipped on a vessel for New York. Richard Hand did not send much money, but any sum looked large to me at the moment. I spent the money in one night, and began to consider how I could get more, or how I should proceed next, having in mind the fact that the young brother had expressed an intention of going home. If he did so, I knew he would not bother Richard Hand further than to tell him to his face that he was a cheat and might go to the devil as fast as he liked. Then I should be unable to get more money. I wrote to Richard Hand--the letter would reach him before his brother appeared--asking about Captain Hawkins. Where was he, where was his wife, what were their means, what connections had they? Richard Hand sent back a pretty full account of the Hawkinses. Both were at sea at the time. There was property. They had no child as yet. Mrs. Hawkins had an older sister, married, with two children, a boy and a girl. Their name was Smiley and the girl was named after Mrs. Hawkins. In the event of the Hawkinses remaining childless, these two would most likely inherit their property. All this did not interest me much and I wrote no more to Richard Hand at that time. Of a sudden the passion for that woman of the dark red hair and milky skin reawakened in me. I was young; I shook off my dissipation, and set out to find her. In all sorts of ships and in any sort of berth I went about the world, from seaport to seaport; and as I was a good ship’s officer I had no trouble to get about. I sailed from San Francisco to New York, and there I heard that Captain Hawkins had left the _China Castle_ and was somewhere on the Western Ocean, as seamen term the North Atlantic, with cotton for Liverpool. I followed, as nearly as possible, but got to Liverpool after he had sailed on his return trip. A long chase followed. There is no point in setting it down here. It lasted for years. We three ranged from Singapore to Boston and from Rotterdam to the Cape Settlement. Twice in that time I caught glimpses of Keturah Hawkins. Once I saw her standing on the afterdeck of her husband’s ship, clearing from Havre as we entered the harbour; again I saw her driven past, on a boulevard in Rio de Janeiro. The third time I did not have merely a glimpse of her but met her face to face.