“Yes, he is going on just as usual. I was over there a fortnight ago. I am sure he will be very glad to see you; he always enquires, when I go over, whether I have had a letter from you, and takes great interest in your progress.”
“Tom Stevens has come back with me, and has gone on to-day to the village. I told him not to mention about my coming, as I want to take the old couple by surprise.”
“That you certainly will do. Of course they have aged a little since you went away, but there is no great change in them. Ah, there is my husband’s knock! Lawrence,” she [pg 201]said, as he entered, “this is the village lad I have so often spoken to you about. He has completely changed in the three years and a half he has been away. We heard, you remember, that he had become an officer, but I was quite unprepared for the change that has come over him.”
“I am glad to see you, Mr. Gilmore. My wife has talked about you so often that I quite seem to know you myself, but, of course, as I did not know you in those days I can hardly appreciate the change that has come over you. One thing I can say, however, and that is that you bear no resemblance whatever to a fisher lad.”
Will was soon quite at home with Mr. and Mrs. Archer, who introduced him with pride as “our sailor boy” to many of their friends. On the third day of his stay he hired a gig and drove over to Scarcombe. Alighting at the one little inn, he walked to John Hammond’s cottage, watched on the way by many enquiring eyes, the fisher folk wondering whether this was a new revenue officer. He knocked at the door, lifted the latch, and entered. The old couple were sitting at the fire, and looked in surprise at the young officer standing at the door.
“Well, sir,” John asked, “what can I do for you? I have done with smuggling long ago, and you won’t find as much as a drop of brandy in my house.”
“So I suppose, John,” Will said; “your smuggling didn’t do you much good, did it?”
“Well, sir, I don’t see as that is any business of yours,” the old man answered gruffly. “I don’t mind owning that I have handled many a keg in my time, but you can’t bring that against me now.”
“I have no intention of doing so, John. I dare say you gave it up for good when that dirty little boy who used to live with you chucked it and got into trouble for doing so. You recollect me, don’t you, mother?” he said, as the old woman sat staring at him with open eyes.
“Why, it is Willie himself!” she exclaimed; “don’t you know him, John, our boy Willie, who ran away and went to sea?”