"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 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?"

"You don't say it is Will!" the old man said, getting up.

"It is Will sure enough," the lad said, holding out his hand first to one
and then to the other. "He has come back, as you see, an officer."

"Yes, Parson told us that. Well, well! Why, it was only two days ago that
Tom Stevens came in. He has growed to