ay to day and as he found his sea-legs he began to
take a great pleasure in the free, salt wind that sang in the rigging,
the blue sparkle of the swells, and the circling whiteness of the
offshore gulls. He was left much to himself, for the Captain demanded
his services only at meal times and to set his cabin in order in the
morning. In the long intervals the boy sat, inconspicuous in a corner of
the fore-deck, watching the gayly dressed ruffians of the crew, as they
threw dice or quarrelled noisily over their winnings. He was assigned to
no watch, but usually went below at the same time as Job Howland, thus
keeping out of the way of Daggs, the man with the broken nose. As
Howland was in the port watch, on deck from sunset to midnight, Jeremy
often took comfort in the sight of his loved stars wheeling westward
through the taut shrouds. He would stand there with a lump in his throat
as he thought of his father's anguish on returning to the island to
find the sheep uncared for and the young shepherd vanished. In a region
desolate as that, he knew that there was but one conclusion for them to
reach. Still, they might find the ashes of the pirate fire and keep up a
hope that he yet lived.

But the boy could not be unhappy for long. He would find his way home
soon, and he fairly shivered with delight as he planned the grand
reunion that would take place when he should return. Perhaps he even
imagined himself marching up to the door in sailor's blue cloth with a
seaman's cloak and cocked hat, pistol and cutlass in his belt and a
hundred gold guineas in his poke. Not for worlds would he have turned
pirate, but the romance of the sea had touched him and he could not help
a flight of fancy now and then.

Sometimes in the long hours of the watch, Job would give him lessons in
seamanship--teach him the names of ropes and spars and show how each was
used. The boy's greatest delight was to steer the ship when Job took his
trick at the helm. This was no small task for a boy even as strong as
Jeremy. The sloop, like all of her day, had no wheel but was fitted with
a massive hand tiller, a great curved beam of wood that kicked amazingly
when it was free of its lashings. Of course, no grown man could have
held it in a seaway, but during the calm summer nights Jeremy learned
to humor the craft along, her mainsail just drawing in the gentle land
breeze, and her head held steadily south, a point west.

One night--it was perhaps a week af