"I mind very much! There's no proper fresh air up there, and you'd better go out now for an hour. It's stopped raining and should be a lovely evening. Go and explore the town and I'll have some supper ready for you when you come back."

This was what Jon really wanted anyway, so they went for their macs.

Outside they walked to the wall and looked to the west where the sun, which had been invisible nearly all day, was now painting the stormy clouds with glory. Below them the brown river ran fast under the wooden bridge towards the sea, but over the levels a faint mist hung, so that only the top of the old keep of Camber Castle was visible.

"The mist looks as if it might be the sea come back again," Penny said. "See how it covers all the land like water, Jon, and see how Winchelsea and Rye, too, stand up like islands. It was like that once, wasn't it?"

Jon nodded. "I was just wondering what Mr. Grandon would do if he knew what I'd got in my pocket book. We'll have to look at that map again carefully, Penny. We've got to do something about those windmills tomorrow you know, and there's a lot of other things we've got to find out."

"The map showed a mill behind the town here, didn't it?" Penny said. "Let's go and find it now and when we come back we'll see Fred Vasson. He'll know everything about Rye - he told me he was born here - and he'll tell us all we want to know. Come on. We've got to go past the big church, anyway."

"Let's go down these steps first and see the river," Jon said. "We can ask one of the fishermen the way to the mill, and I do want to have a look at those boats."

Penny agreed and they set off down Trader's Passage by the side of the Dolphin,

They turned left at the bottom of the Passage and at once found themselves among the fishermen and boat-builders. The strong air smelled muddy and fishy and, oddly enough, the mist which they had seen from above did not come from the river, for down here it was clear. After chatting with a fisherman, they walked back up the narrow streets and looked into shops, with the crowds of country people thronging the narrow pavements.

"I love Saturdays. Specially Saturday nights! Don't you, Jon?"

"I like this Saturday night, and I like this place, too. It is different, as old Miss Ballinger said, isn't it? Look, Penny. This must be the Land Gate the fisherman told us to go through. It's like that one at Winchelsea. Up the hill outside, he said."