“And he didn’t say a word about it!” the old man said. “He talked about you just as if you were somewhere over the sea.” “I told him not to tell,” Will said, “as I wanted to take you by surprise.” “But he is not an officer, Will. He is just a sailor like those revenue men. How does that come about? Didn’t he fight well?” “Yes, no one could fight better. If he had had as much learning as I had he would have been made an officer too; but, you see, he can hardly read or write, and, fight as he may, he will always remain as he is. A finer fellow never stepped; but because he has no learning he must always remain before the mast.” “And you have lost some fingers I see, Will.” “Yes, they were shot off by a musket-ball in the West Indies. Luckily it was my left hand; so I manage very well without them.” “I hope you blew off the fingers of the fellow that shot you.” “No, I can’t say who did it, and indeed I never felt anything at all until some little time after.” “I wish I had been there,” John said, “I would have had a slap at him with a musket. That was an unlucky shot, Will.” “Well, I have always considered it a lucky one, for if it had gone a few inches on one side it would have probably finished me altogether.” “Well, well, it is wonderful to me. Here am I, an old man, and never, so far as I can remember, been a couple of miles from Scarcombe, and you, quite a young chap, have been wandering and fighting all over the world.” “Not quite so much as that, John, though I have certainly seen a good deal. But here is mother.” Mrs. Hammond entered with a face beaming with delight. “You never saw anyone so astonished as Mrs. Smith when I went in and ordered all those things. Her eyes opened wider and wider as I went on, and when I offered her the gold I thought she would have a fit. She took it and bit it to make sure that it was good, and then said: ‘Have you found it, Mrs. Hammond, or what good fortune have you had?’ “ ‘The best of fortunes, Mrs. Smith,’ says I. ‘My boy Will has come back from the wars a grand officer, with his pocket lined with gold, so you will find I’ll be a better customer to you than I have been.’ “ ‘You don’t say so, Mrs. Hammond!’ says she. ‘I always thought he was a nice boy, well spoken and civil. And so he is an officer, is he? Only to think of it! Well, I am mighty pleased to hear it,’ and with that I came off with my basket full of provisions. The whole village will be talking of it before nightfall. Mrs. Smith is a good soul, but she is an arrant gossip, and you may be sure that the tale will gain by the telling, and before night people will believe that you have become one of the royal family.” In half an hour a meal was ready—tea, crisp slices of fried bacon, and some boiled eggs—and never did three people sit down to table in a more delighted state of mind.