CHAPTER VII.
You reach a chilling chamber, where you dread Damps .-- Crabbe's Borough.
I could not sleep the whole of that night, and the next morning, I set off early, with the resolution of discovering where Glanville had taken up his abode; it was evident from his having been so frequently seen, that it must be in the immediate neighbourhood.
I went first to Farmer Sinclair's; they had often remarked him, but could give me no other information.

I then proceeded towards the coast; there was a small public house belonging to Sir Lionel close by the sea shore; never had I seen a more bleak and dreary prospect than that which stretched for miles around this miserable cabaret.

How an innkeeper could live there is a mystery to me at this day--I should have imagined it a spot upon which anything but a sea-gull or a Scotchman would have starved.
"Just the sort of place, however," thought I, "to hear something of Glanville." I went into the house; I inquired, and heard that a strange gentleman had been lodging for the last two or three weeks at a cottage about a mile further up the coast.

Thither I bent my steps; and after having met two crows, and one officer on the preventive service, I arrived safely at my new destination.
It was a house very little better, in outward appearance, than the wretched but I had just left, for I observe in all situations, and in all houses, that "the public" is not too well served.

The situation was equally lonely and desolate; the house, which belonged to an individual, half fisherman and half smuggler, stood in a sort of bay, between two tall, rugged, black cliffs.