Zacchary thought hard as he followed his young charges into the town. Something was amiss. He realised, looking back, that something had been amiss, all the way down from London. But in the meantime, he had his orders.

With Simone at her side, looking neither to the right nor to the left where passers-by were concerned, Marion went over the town on a search which greatly excited Simones curiosity. She saw that in one shop her mistress bought a hank of the finest grey embroidery silk. Before another shop she paused, bidding Simone wait with Zacchary. Simone looked curiously at the sign, which showed that a gunsmith and armourer carried on his trade there. Marion came out empty-handed. The end of her search was evidently not yet.
Mistress, said Zacchary, his eye on the sun, as she joined the waiting pair.A fleeting look of horror passed over Marions face, and she turned aside from old Zaccharys vision. At that moment a man lounged by, his gait marked by the obvious roll of the sailor. Marion glanced idly at him. Then she swung round and looked again, a puzzled expression in her eyes. What was there familiar about that face and figure　they laughed heartily at the recollection.?

Zaccharys eyes were also on the retreating sailor. He noted his mistresss glance, but said nothing. Like herself, he was musing on the vague likeness to some one he knew very well. Marion and Simone walked on, followed by Zacchary. Suddenly the old man stopped in his walk, and turning, looked at the feet of the man just making the corner of the street. His old eyes gleamed.The haberdashers shop was at the extreme end of the street down which, Marion had noted, the sailor had gone. Making a detour, she entered the street from another direction, timing her arrival at the door so that the clumsy figure rolled by just after she had bidden Simone enter the shop. Zacchary stood a few paces away, chewing a straw, his eyes in the opposite direction. Marion followed the sailor a couple of yards.

Jack!The man stopped and turned, a smile lighting up his features as he recognised the speaker. Marion looked affectionately up into the face of the sailor-boy of her childhoods days. The rough beard he had assumed for a disguise changed him greatly. But the merry eyes were the same. Marion went straight to the point.