I did not do what I felt and knew was
right, and the result of my neglect will be seen.

Aunt Bretta was more indignant than any of us with Iffley. "If he does
come to the door, in my opinion, he ought to be turned away!" she
exclaimed. "The idea of a person whom I knew as a little boy, glad to
receive a slice of gingerbread, giving himself such airs! I have no
notion of it." This was very severe for Aunt Bretta, whose heart was
kindness itself.

On making inquiries of the servant, she discovered that a man exactly
answering his description had, while they were out, knocked at the door
and asked all sorts of questions.

"She could not mind what exactly," she said. "They were about Mr
Wetherholm. Where he had come from! When he had got married? What he
was doing? And all sorts of such like things." After I had heard this
account of the servant girl, I could not help feeling somewhat
suspicious of Iffley's object. The mere asking them was very natural,
and had he come frankly forward to meet us, I should not have
entertained any ill thoughts of him; but now, in spite of all my
resolution, I could not help dreading that he contemplated doing me some
mischief or other. Still I did my best to get rid of such thoughts of
an old friend, for they were not pleasant.

When the evening came, I forgot all about the matter. Old Jerry Vincent
looked in, and several other friends, among them two former shipmates of
Uncle Kelson's, and anecdotes and stories innumerable were told. We got
on the subject of smuggling. In those days it was certainly not looked
on in its proper light, and a smuggler, if he was bold and daring, was
considered a very fine fellow. Most of our guests were Hampshire or
Isle of Wight men, and had been personally acquainted with many of the
smugglers in their day, and might, perhaps, not have refused to purchase
any of the goods they had to offer.

"Some of you may have known Jim Dore?" began Jerry.

One or two nodded.

"I thought so," said Jerry. "Well, then, when he began the work he was
very young, and there wasn't a bolder or more daring hand in the trade.
We were boys together, and a braver fellow or better seaman never
stepped. He was a Yarmouth man, born and bred, just inside the Needles
there. There was a large family of them. He wasn't always as prudent
as he might be, and one day he and the cutter he was in was taken with
three hundred tubs on board. Of course he was sent to