Jack Rattenbury found that a good many bills descended on him after his father's funeral. He had no means of checking them, as he had not come on any account-book, but he had little doubt that the debts had really been contracted, for they revealed that the captain had been engaged in an extensive business as 'freighter'; not for some years taking any part in the active carriage of goods, but providing the cargoes and negotiating the sales. To the French ports he had despatched West Indian groceries procured in England, and from France he had received consignments of brandy. And in both transactions the goods had been run without regard to Customs duties. So long as sugar was at famine prices in France, and large profits could be made on spirits and tea in England, the contraband trade attracted to it the most adventurous on the coasts. Neither the vessel built for Captain Job nor the stores last ordered had been paid for. Jack had made up his mind not to follow his father's business, which, though it might be very profitable at times, was also liable to great losses. He liked the sea, but saw clearly that if he took to it he would be more or less brought into relations with the men who had acted with, under and for his father, and that it would be difficult for him to keep clear of 'free trading.' He liked books, and his inclination turned to some occupation on land where what he had acquired would prove serviceable. The day of the auction came on speedily. It were well, thought Jack, to have the sale at once, that he might be free to go where he would find work, and have money wherewith to meet his father's debts. Happily the day was bright, and although a cold wind blew from the north-east, the sun shone――a November sun, pale and without warmth. Yet, at that time of the year, the very sight of the luminary is cheering. A country auction is a curious sight. It was even more so at the beginning of the century. Auctions, like funerals, are wet or dry, and a dry auction, like a dry funeral, attracts few assistants and provokes little enthusiasm. A dry auction is colourless, cold, sordid. Emulation among would-be purchasers is languid, and the sums realised are inconsiderable. It is otherwise at a wet auction, so entitled because spirits are freely provided and distributed: at that faces glow, hearts warm, competition waxes keen, the humour of the auctioneer sparkles, and the prices fetched by the articles offered are often altogether disproportioned to their intrinsic value. Messrs. Hawkes and Squire were in good repute as capable men who understood how to play upon the tempers of a circle of hesitating purchasers, how to pit one against another, to cover a defect, and enhance the value of an article exposed to sale.