After admiring the beauties of my new surroundings for some little time, I felt that I must begin to look for quarters.  I was anxious, if possible, to find a lodging in one of the cottages, and then, after a good night’s rest, I would carefully select a good subject for my picture.  I called at several houses, where I noticed a card in the window announcing Apartments to Let, but I met the same answer everywhere, ‘Full, sir, quite full.’  In one place I was offered a bed in the kitchen, but the whole place smelt so strongly of fried herrings and of fish oil, that I felt it would be far more pleasant to sleep on the beach than to attempt to do so in that close and unwholesome atmosphere.

After wandering up and down for some time, I passed a house close to the village green, and saw the children with whom I had travelled sitting at tea close to the open window.  They, too, were eating herrings, and the smell made me hungry.  I began to feel that it was time I had something to eat, and I thought my best plan would be to retrace my steps to the hotel which I had passed on my way, and which stood at the very top of the high cliff.  I turned a little lazy when I thought of the climb, for I was tired with my journey, and, as I said before, I was not very strong, and to drag my bag and easel up the rugged ascent would require a mighty effort at the best of times.  I noticed that wooden benches had been placed here and there on the different platforms of the rock, for the convenience of the fishermen, and I determined to rest for a quarter of an hour on one of them before retracing my steps up the steep hill to the hotel.  The fishermen were filling most of the seats, sitting side by side, row after row of them, talking together, and looking down at the beach below.  As I gazed up at them, they looked to me like so many blue birds perched on the steep rock.

There was one seat in a quiet corner which I noticed was empty.  I went to it, and laying my knapsack and other belongings beside me, I sat down to rest.

But I was not long to remain alone.  A minute afterwards a young fisherman, dressed like his mates in blue jersey and oilskin cap, planted himself on the other end of the seat which I had selected.

‘Good-day, sir,’ he said.  ‘What do you think of our bay?’

‘It’s a pretty place, very pretty,’ I said.  ’I like it well enough now, but I daresay I shall like it better still to-morrow.’

‘Better still to-morrow,’ he repeated; ’well, it is the better for knowing, in my opinion, sir, and I ought to know, if any one should, for I’ve lived my lifetime here.’

I turned to look at him as he spoke, and I felt at once that I had come across one of Nature’s gentlemen.  He was a fine specimen of an honest English fisherman, with dark eyes and hair, and with a sunny smile on his weather-beaten, sunburnt face.  You had only to look at the man to feel sure that you could trust him, and that, like Nathanael, there was no guile in him.