my mind; and wishing him and them good-bye, I
shipped myself and my fortune aboard a cutter bound for Portsmouth.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

ENCOUNTER MY NEW UNCLE--AUNT BRETTA'S HOME--HAPPY MEETING--SETTLE AT
HOME--A DESCRIPTION OF MY UNCLE--OLD JERRY VINCENT--HIS STORIES--THE
SMOKE-WORMS, AND HIS CRUISE ROUND THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

On reaching Portsmouth, I buttoned my money tight up in my pockets, for,
thought I, "I'll have no land-sharks taking it from me in the way many
poor fellows have lost all the profits of their toils." I had no
difficulty in finding my way through the gate under the ramparts to
Southsea Common, and then I turned to the left till I reached a number
of small, neat little houses. The fine big mansions and great hotels
which stand there now were not built in those days. I walked up and
down for some time trying to discover the house my aunt lived in from
what Miss Rundle had told me, but I could not make up my mind to knock
at any door by chance to inquire. At last I saw a stout, fine
sailor-like looking man come stumbling along the road on a wooden leg.
I looked at his face. He had a round, good-natured countenance,
somewhat weather-beaten, with kind-looking eyes, and a firm mouth, full
of fine white teeth.

"You're the man who will give me a civil answer at all events, and maybe
help me to find my aunt, so I'll just speak to you," I thought to
myself. "Please, sir," said I, stepping up to him, "can you tell me if
a young woman called Bretta Wetherholm lives any way handy here?" He
looked at me very hard as I spoke, with some surprise in his
countenance. Then I recollected myself; "that was her name, I mean,
sir," said I; "it's now Mrs Kelson, I am told. Her husband is Tom
Kelson. Yes, that's his name."

"I think I can show you the house, young man," said the stranger,
casting his eye all over me. "You are a stranger here."

"Yes, sir," said I, "this is the first time I have been at Portsmouth.
I've been knocking about at sea all my life. There are very few days in
which I have set foot in England since I was a little boy."

"Just paid off from a ship, I suppose."

"Yes, sir," said I, "a few days ago."

"Ah, I see, come round from Plymouth," he remarked, stumping on at a
pace which kept me at a quick walk.

I always addressed him as sir, for I thought very likely he was a
post-captain, or perhaps an admiral. I did not like, therefore, to say
that I had just come from Guernsey, as