"To the end of the railway journey," was his reply.
"I seem to smell the sea, Simpson," I said.
"Yes, sir, we are close to the sea."
He led the way to the station-yard, where a carriage stood, evidently waiting for me. This I entered, while Simpson, after attending to the luggage, and expressing the hope that he was not inconveniencing me, took his seat by my side. Once in the carriage I began to take more interest in my surroundings. I saw that we were in a beautifully wooded country, while away in the distance rose giant hills and rocky tors. I heard the roll of the waves, too, while the air was like some life-giving elixir. Presently we entered a village, which nestled among the trees.
"Simpson," I asked, "what is the name of this village?"
"This is St. Issey, sir."
"It is a very pretty place."
"Yes, sir; thank you, sir."
I saw a number of cottages, built in higgledy-piggledy fashion, each surrounded by its own garden. I saw the villagers standing gossiping with each other, heard the laughter of little children as they played in the lane, smelt the sweetness and purity of the air. After all, it was good to live.
"Is there no hotel here?" I asked.