isit to his home. In those days the post was very irregular on shore,
and sailors often went many years without receiving letters from home.
Such had been John Deane's case, and he still remained in ignorance of
all the events which had taken place among those he loved since his
departure. One thing had troubled him greatly; it was at not hearing of
the arrival of Elizabeth and her faithful guardian, Mistress Pearson.
He had gained a large amount of prize-money, which the agent at
Portsmouth, where he landed, promised to remit to him at Nottingham. He
took with him only a sum sufficient for his journey and to supply his
wants while he expected to remain on shore. He met with no adventure
during his journey. The number of loose characters who had infested the
roads in the early days of King William's reign, had been drawn away to
fight the battles of their country, either under Marlborough or at sea,
and few highwaymen were to be met with in any part of the country.
Deane would gladly have turned aside to go to Norwich; but it was
greatly out of his way, and he felt that it was his duty in the first
place to visit his own father and mother. He could scarcely restrain
his eagerness as he passed over the Trent bridge once more, and took his
way through the well-known streets which led to the market-place. It
was early in the day, but no one knew him in his richly-laced coat, his
countenance well bronzed by sun and wind, and his whiskers and beard of
no mean growth. At length he stopped before the door of the old house
and threw himself from his horse, calling to a boy passing at the moment
to hold it. Not till then did it occur to him how long he had been
absent, and what great changes might have taken place. His heart sank,
for he expected almost to see his mother hurrying to the door, with his
old father's fine countenance peering behind her; but the door remained
closed, and he had to knock more than once before it was opened. His
voice trembled as he inquired of the serving-damsel who opened the door
whether Mr and Mistress Deane were at home.

"Ay," was the answer, "they are in the parlour at the back of the
house."

He pushed past her and hurried on. The old gentleman and lady rose from
their seats as he threw open the door, at first not knowing him.

"To what cause do we owe the honour of this visit, sir?" said old Mr
Deane, taking Jack to be an intruder, or one of the officers quartered
in the town en