He passed the oaks and came out into open country. Here, where the gorse made a soft carpet on the ground, the salt of the sea blew freshly in to him. He gave a great shout, and pulling off his cap, ran as fast as he could, down to the shore of the bay. A few boats swung at anchor there, and an old man sat on the beach, mending a fishing net. The boy swept the sea with his eyes from point to point of the bay, looked longingly at the boats, then walked over to the old mariner. "Good-morning, gaffer," said he. "It's a fine sailing breeze out on the bay." "And good-morning to ye, Master Walter," said the old man, glancing up from his nets. "A fine breeze it be, an' more's the pity when there's work to be done on shore." "So say I," said the boy, throwing himself down on the sand by the sailor. "I'd dearly like to sail across to France to-day." "How comes it you're not to school?" asked the man. "School's done. Next month I go to Oxford, to Oriel College. Methinks 'tis a great shame to spend one's time studying when there's so much else to be done in the world. The only books I like are those that tell of far-away lands and adventures and such things. But to Oxford I must go, says father, like a gentleman's son, and so I suppose I must." He lay out on the sand, his head resting in his hands, his eyes gazing up to the sky. "Tell me, gaffer, if you had your choice of the two, would you rather be a sailor, or a gentleman of the court, and live at London, near Queen Elizabeth?" The man laughed. "I a courtier!" he cried. "I'd die of fright most like. I've never been to London town, but they say it's a terrible place!" "Would you rather sail out to the west,--to the Indies, or perhaps to Guiana?" asked Walter. The man nodded. "The savages be'nt so terrifyin' to a sailor as the folk o' London town." "And in London they might throw you into the Tower," mused Walter. "You're right, gaffer. 'Tis better to be free, and your own man, even if 'tis only among savages. Think you England will be at war soon?" The sailor looked up from his net, and glanced out across the bay. "I figure you'll live long enough to do some fightin', lad. Them Spanish dons be plannin' for to sweep the seas of Englishmen." Walter sat up, and followed the man's gaze out to sea. "That they'll never do," said he, "as long as there are Devon men to build a boat and man it. But if there is a war I'm going to it, aye, as certain as we two be sitting here in Budleigh Bay." "War's a fearsome thing, lad," said the sailor. "I've fought the pirates in the south, and I've seen sights would turn a man's hair gray in a night. 'Tis no holiday work to fight across your decks." "Tell me about it," begged the boy, sitting up and clasping his knees in his hands. "I love to hear of fights and strange adventures."