The boat lay moored by a little quay, beyond which his eye travelled to clusters of red roofs glowing 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.