"Hard upon eleven miles, sir," replied the man.
"Then the place where we run ashore must be what they call Beachrock Spit, I suppose?" rejoined Dudley.
"Just so, sir," said the man; "the rock that names it is about two miles farther on, t'other side of the spit, as we call it; but the village is up hard by, not above a quarter of a mile inland."
"Do you know a man of the name of Martin Oldkirk?" asked Dudley, after advancing a few paces farther. "He must live in that village, I think."
"Yes, I know him, sir," answered the countryman, abruptly. "What do you want with him?"
"I want some conversation with him," answered Dudley. "I bring him some news of distant friends, and had, indeed, brought him a letter; but that, with all the rest of my baggage, is in the unfortunate ship, which will be a total wreck before to-morrow."
"I'm sorry for that, sir," said his companion; "for, to tell you the truth, I am Martin Oldkirk myself, so you may speak away as fast as you please."
"By and bye will do," answered Dudley, "for I shall be very glad, Oldkirk, if you can let me lodge in your cottage for a night or two. At all events, you will allow me to dry my clothes there, and while that is doing, we can talk of other things."
"I should be very happy to lodge you, sir," replied the man, in a civil tone; "but, Lord bless you, sir! it is not fit for such as you; and besides, there's but one bed and a bare bedstead in the place."
"The bare bedstead will do well enough for me," replied Dudley, "at least for the present; and to-morrow, perhaps, you will be able to procure me something else. Doubtless to-night every house and every bed in the place will have more than its fair share of occupants."