g in the easterly sunshine, and a
dominant spire, the weathercock of which dazzled the eye with its
brightness. The town was just waking up, as could be perceived from
the blue wreaths of smoke that poured out of the chimneys.

Captain Salt was in an evident hurry. Without giving Tristram time
to wash in the fore-cabin, he hustled him on shore and up a narrow
street to an inn, over the archway of which hung the sign of a White
Lamb with a flag between its forelegs. Here they rang a bell, and
were admitted after ten minutes by a sleepy chambermaid, who led them
upstairs to a low-browed sitting-room facing the street, as they
perceived when she drew back the shutters. At the back of this room
lay two bedchambers; and Tristram withdrew into the nearer, while his
father ordered breakfast.

It happened that these two bedrooms overlooked a broad court or
stable-yard behind the White Lamb. Captain Salt, having given his
instructions, retired, whistling cheerfully, to perform his toilet.
He was in the best of spirits, and broke now and again into snatches
of song, which he trolled out in a tenor voice of great richness and
flexibility. Tristram listened in admiration on the other side of
the partition. The songs were those of Tom d'Urfey and his
imitators, and dealt in a strain of easy sentimentality with
hay-rakes, milking-pails and all the apparatus of a country life
as etherealised by a cockney fancy; but the Captain sang with
such a gusto, such bravura, and such an appealing tremolo in the
pathetic passages, that you might have mistaken the splashing of
water in his basin, as he broke off to wash his face, for tears of
uncontrollable regret that he had not been born a "swain" (as he put
it). Suddenly, however, one of his roulades ceased with more
abruptness than usual and the enchanted Tristram waited in vain for
the ditty to be resumed. The fact was that Captain Salt had glanced
out of the window and seen at a stable door across the court a man
stooping with his back to the inn and washing down the legs of a dark
bay horse.

The Captain contemplated this group for a moment; then hastily
donning his coat and turning into the parlour looked out upon the
street.

Immediately under the signboard of the White Lamb, and before the
front-door, stood a couple of men who chatted as they passed a
tankard of beer to each other. Captain Salt could not see their
faces owing to the extreme width of their hat-brims. But