"That's good," ejaculated the captain of the team. "I'll come with you, if I may. Nothing like padding the hoof to keep a fellow fit. You play footer, of course." "Not since I left school," replied Daventry. "Where was that?" asked Biggs. "What's that? Full-back an' got your colours? Why, you're just the man I want! You'll jolly well have to train, and look mighty smart about it, young fellow." "I'll think it over," said Derek guardedly. "What's the objection?" asked the skipper pointedly. "Since you ask me, it's like this," replied Daventry. "If a fellow's a good player he's often kept back solely on that account. I know a man in the army who's been knocking about in England ever since 1914, simply because he's a professional full-back. Footer's all very well, but I'm not here for that." "Don't worry on that score, old bird," replied Biggs. "I'm keen on getting back to France myself, and I'll take jolly good care that I do as soon as I possibly can. So you can play with a good grace while you're here." "In that case, count on me," decided Derek. Still discussing footer, the three cadets made their way along the promenade until they reached the commencement of the cliff path. It was now about an hour before sunset. The air was calm, and, for the time of year, remarkably mild. Hardly a ripple disturbed the surface of the sea, although against the base of the cliffs the surf roared sullenly. Out of the little harbour the fishing-fleet was putting to sea, their dark-brown sails hanging limply from the yards. Almost sky-down were three or four tramp steamers leisurely plugging their way towards London river. Outwardly there were no indications that the nation was at war. Ships came and went, in spite of the vaunted submarine blockade. Many went and returned no more, but still the mercantile marine "carried on", hardly perturbed by losses through mines and German pirates. "Do you know the road?" asked Biggs. "I don't." "We looked up a map this afternoon," replied Kaye. "It seems simple enough. We strike inland at about a couple of miles from the outskirts of the town. Not much of a path, is it?" "Shouldn't like to tackle it after dark," rejoined Derek. "I guess those coast-patrol fellows have a rotten time, especially in winter." "A regular causeway," remarked Biggs, regarding the cliffs on either hand, for the path itself ran along the top of a "hog's back" formation. On the seaward side the cliffs were bold and precipitous. On the landward side they were lower, and showed signs of crumbling. Obviously, years ago, the existing marshes formed part of a large harbour, from which the sea had long since retired.