Chapter 6: Afloat.
Jules Varlin held the lantern above his head, and took a good lookat his visitors.
"You will pass very well for young fishermen, messieurs," he said,"when you have dirtied your faces and hands a bit, and rubbed yourhair the wrong way, all over your head. Well, come in here. My wifeis waiting up to welcome you. It is her doing that you are here. Ishould not have agreed, but what can one do when a woman once setsher mind upon a thing?"
He opened a door. A woman rose from her seat. She was some yearsyounger than her husband.
"Welcome, messieurs," she said. "We are pleased, indeed, to be ableto return the kindness you showed to my brother."
The fisherman grunted.
"No, Jules," she said, "I won't have you say that you haven't gonewillingly into this. You pretended not to, but I know very wellthat it was only because you like to be coaxed, and that you wouldhave done it for Jacques' sake."
"Jacques is a good fellow," her husband replied, "and I say nothingagainst him; but I don't know that I should have consented, if ithad not been for you and your bothering me."
"Don't you believe him, monsieur. Jules has a good heart, though helikes pretending that he is a bear.
"Now, monsieur, I have some coffee ready for you."
"I need not say, madam," Terence said, "how truly thankful we bothare for your and your husband's kindness, shown to us strangers;and I sincerely hope that you will have no cause to regret it. Youmay be sure of one thing: that if we are recaptured, we shall neversay how our escape was effected, nor where we were shelteredafterwards; and if, after the war is over, we can find anopportunity of showing how grateful we are for your kindness, weshall not miss the chance."
"We are but paying the service you rendered to Jacques, monsieur.He tells me that, if it had not been for the aid the Britishprisoners gave them, that probably those Spanish bandits would havecaptured the church during the night; and we know that they nevershow mercy to prisoners."
The coffee was placed on the table and, after drinking it, thefisherman led them to a low shed in the yard.
"We could have done better for you," he said apologetically, "butit is likely that they may begin a search for you, early in themorning. This yard can be seen from many houses round about, sothat, were you to sleep upstairs, you might be noticed enteringhere in the morning; and it is better to run no risks. We havepiled the nets on the top of other things. You will find twoblankets for covering yourselves there. In the morning I will comein and shift things, so as to hide you up snugly."
"We shall do just as well on the nets as if we were in bed,"Terence laughed. "We are pretty well accustomed to sleep on thehard ground."
"I think we are going to have some bad weather," the man remarked,as they settled themselves on the nets. "I hope it will be so, forthen none of the boats will put out; and there will be no commentson my staying at home, instead of going out as usual.
"And now, good night, and good sleep to you!"
"He is an honest-looking fellow," Terence said, when he had goneout, "and I have no doubt what his wife says of him is true; but itis not surprising that he held back at first. It is not everyonethat is prepared to run the risk of heavy punishment for the sakeof his wife's relations.
"This is not by any means bad; these nets make a very comfortablebed."
The next morning, at daybreak, the fisherman came in with a cancontaining hot coffee, two great slices of bread, and tin cups.
"Now, messieurs, when you have drank that I will stow you away. Weshifted most of the things yesterday, so as to make as comfortablea bed for you as may be."
The nets were pulled off; and a mass of sails, ropes, and othergear appeared underneath. One of the sails in the corner was pulledaway, and showed a vacant space, some six feet long and four feetwide, extending down to the ground, which was covered by old nets.
"Now, messieurs, if you will get down there, I shall pile a coupleof sacks over and throw the nets on the top, and there is no fearof your being disturbed. I will bring your meals in to you, and letyou know what is doing in the town; but I shall not come in oftenerthan I can help. I shall leave the doors open, as usual."
They took their places in the hole, and the fisherman piled sailsand nets over the opening. There was no occasion to leave anyapertures for air, for the shed was roughly built, and there wereplenty of openings between the planks of which it was constructed.They had, before he came in, divested themselves of their uniforms;and these the fisherman put into a kit bag and carried indoors;where his wife at once proceeded to cut them up, and thrust thepieces into the fire.
"It is a pity," she said regretfully, "but it would never do toleave them about. Think what a waistcoat I could have made for you,Jules, out of this scarlet cloth. With the gold buttons it wouldhave been superb, and it would have been the envy of the quarter;but it would never do."
"I should think not, Marie. Burn the clothes up, and give me thebuttons and gold lace. I will put them in a bag with some stones,and drop them into the river. The sooner we get rid of them, thebetter."
As soon as the things were put into a bag, he went out with withthem. The wind was blowing strongly and, as he had predicted thenight before, the clouds were flying fast, and there were manysigns of dirty weather. He returned a couple of hours later.
"There is quite an excitement in the town, Marie," he said."Everyone is talking about it. Two rascally English prisoners haveescaped, and the soldiers say that they must be somewhere in thetown, for that they could never have passed through the lines. Somegendarmes have been along the quays, inquiring if a boat has beenmissed during the night; but they all seem to be safe. Writtennotices have been stuck up warning everyone, on pain of theseverest punishment, not to give shelter to two young men, inwhatever guise they may present themselves. The gendarmes say thatthe military authorities are convinced that they must have receivedassistance from without."
For the next three days, indeed, an active search was kept up.Every house was visited by the gendarmes but, as there was noreason for suspecting one person more than another, there was noabsolute search made of the houses; which indeed, in so large atown as Bayonne, would have been almost impossible to carry outeffectually.
The fisherman reported each day what was going on.
"The soldiers are giving it up," he said, at the end of the thirdday. "I saw Jacques today for the first time. He tells me there wasa tremendous row when your escape was discovered. The warder, andevery soldier who had been on duty that night, were arrested andquestioned. The warder was the one first suspected, on the groundthat you must have had assistance from without. He said that if youhad, he knew nothing about it; and that, as you knew all thesoldiers of the prison guard, and as he had heard many of them sayit was very hard, after fighting as you did on their behalf, thatyou should be kept prisoner, any of them might have furnished youwith tools for cutting the door and filing the bars. This was soclear that he was released at once. The soldiers were kept for twodays under arrest. This morning the governor himself came down tothe prison, and the men under arrest were drawn up. He spoke tothem very sharply, to begin with.
"'One or more of you is assuredly concerned in this matter. Abreach of trust of this kind is punishable with death.'
"Then he stopped, and looked fiercely up and down the line, andwent on in a different tone:
"'At the same time, I admit that some allowance is to be made forthe crime, and I can understand that as soldiers you felt sympathywith soldiers who, although prisoners at the time, did not hesitateto cast in their lot with you, and to fight side by side with you.Still, a soldier should never allow private sentiments to interferewith his duty. I myself should have been glad, when you arrivedhere and I heard of what had happened, to have been able to placethese British officers and soldiers in a ship, and to have sentthem back to their own country; but that would have been a breachof my duty, and I was forced to detain them here as prisoners. Ofcourse, if I could find out which among y
ou have been concerned inthis affair, it would be my duty to punish them--for there musthave been more than one--severely. However, although I have done mybest to discover this, I am not sorry, men, that I have been unableto do so; for although these men may have failed in their duties assoldiers, they have shown themselves true-hearted fellows to runthat risk--not, I am sure, from any thought of reward, but to helpthose who had helped them.
"'You can all return to your duty, and I hope that you will, infuture, remember that duty is the first thing with a soldier, andthat he should allow no other feeling to interfere with it.'
"Jacques and his comrades are all satisfied that, although thegeneral felt it was his duty to reprimand them, he was at heart byno means sorry that you had got off.
"The gendarmes are still making inquiries, but of course they havelearned nothing. Nobody was about on the wharves at that time ofnight, and I don't think that they will trouble themselves muchlonger about it. They will come to believe that you must, somehow,have managed to get through the line of fortifications, and thatyou will be caught trying to make your way across the country.
"In another three or four days it will be quite safe for you to godown the river. For the first two days every boat that went downwas stopped and examined, and some of the vessels were searched bya gunboat, and the hatches taken off; but I hear that no boats havebeen stopped today, so I fancy you will soon be able to go downwithout fear."
Although at night Terence and Ryan were able to emerge from theirplace of concealment, and walk up and down the little yard for twoor three hours, they were heartily glad when, a week after theirconfinement, Jules told them that he thought they might start atdaybreak, the next morning.
"Now, messieurs, if you will tell me what you want, I will buy thethings for you."
They had already made out a list. It consisted of a nine-gallonbreaker for water, a dozen bottles of cheap wine, thirty pounds ofbiscuits, and fifteen pounds of salt meat, which Jules's wife wasto cook. They calculated that this would be sufficient to lastthem, easily, until they had passed along the Spanish coast to apoint well beyond the towns garrisoned by the French, if not toCorunna itself.
"But how about the boat?" Terence asked, after all the otherarrangements had been decided upon. "As I told you, we don't wishto take a boat belonging to anyone who would feel its loss; andtherefore it must be a ship's boat, and not one of the fishermen's.If we had money to pay for it, it would be another matter; but wehave scarcely enough now to maintain us on our way through Spain,and there are no means of sending money here when we rejoin ourarmy."
"I understand that, monsieur; and I have been along the quay thismorning taking a look at the boats. There are at least a dozen wecould choose from; I mean ships' boats. Of course, many of thecraft keep their boats hauled up at the davits or on deck, but mostof them keep one in the water, so that they can row off to anothership or to the stairs. Some simply leave them in the water, becausethey are too lazy to hoist them up. That is the case, I think, withone boat that belongs to a vessel that came in, four days since,from the West Indies. It's a good-sized ship's dinghy, such as isused for running out warps, or putting a sailor ashore to bring offanything required. The other boats are better suited for a voyage,but they are for the most part too large and heavy to be rowed bytwo oars and, moreover, they have not a mast and sail on board, asthis has. Therefore that is the one that I fixed my eye on.
"The ship is lying alongside, and there is not another craftoutside her. The boat is fastened to her bowsprit, and I can takeoff my boots and get on board and drop into her, withoutdifficulty; and push her along to the foot of some stairs which arebut ten yards away. Of course, we will have the water and food andthat bundle of old nets ready, at the top of the stairs, and we canbe out into the stream five minutes after I have cut her loose. Wemust start just before daylight is breaking, so as to be off beforethe fishermen put out for, if any of these were about, they wouldat once notice that I have not got my own boat. At the same time Idon't want to be far ahead of them, or to pass the gunboats at themouth of the river in the dark, for that would look suspicious."
"And now, Jules, about yourself. Of course, I know well that nomoney could repay you for the kindness you have shown us, and yourrisking so much for strangers; and you know that we have not withus the means of making any return, whatever, for your services."
"I don't want any return, monsieur," the fisherman said. "I wentinto the matter a good deal against my will, because my wife hadset her mind upon it; but since you came here I have got to havejust as much interest in the matter as she has. I would not take asou from you, now; but if, some day, when these wars are over, youwill send a letter to Marie with some little present to her, justto show her that you have not forgotten us, it would be a greatpleasure to us."
"That I will certainly do, Jules. It may be some time before therewill be an opportunity of doing it, but you may be sure that weshall not forget you and your wife, or cease to be grateful foryour kindnesses; and that, directly peace is made, or there is achance in any other way of sending a letter to you, we will do so."
That evening Jacques paid a visit to his sister. He had abstainedfrom doing so before, because he thought that the soldiers who weresuspected of being concerned in the escape might all be watched;and that if any of them were seen to enter a house, a visit mightbe paid to it by the gendarmes. He did not come until it was quitedark, and made a long detour in the town before venturing toapproach it. Before he entered the lane he took good care that noone was in sight.
When, after chatting for an hour, he rose to leave, Terence toldhim that when he wrote to his sister he should inclose a letter tohim; as it would be impossible to write to him direct, for therewould be no saying where he might be stationed. He begged him toconvey the heartiest thanks of himself and Ryan to his comrades forthe share they had taken in the matter.
On saying good night, Terence insisted on Marie accepting, as aparting gift, his watch and chain. These were handsome ones, and ofFrench manufacture, Terence having bought them from a soldier whohad taken them from the body of a French officer, killed duringSoult's retreat from Portugal. They could, therefore, be shown byher to her friends without exciting any suspicion that they hadbeen obtained from an English source. Marie accepted them veryunwillingly, and only after Terence declaring that he should feelvery grieved if she would not take the one present he was capableof making.
"Besides," he added, "no one can tell what fortune may bring about.Your husband might lose his boat, or have a long illness; and it iswell to have something that you can part with, without discomfort,in such a time of need."
Jules, although desiring no pay for his services and risks, wasvery much gratified at the present.
"I for my part do not say no, monsieur," he said. "What you say isright. We are careful people, and I have laid by a little money;but as you say, one cannot tell what may happen. And if the weatherwere bad and there was a risk of never getting back home again, itwould be a consolation to me to know that, in addition to the fewhundred francs we have laid by since we were married, two yearsago, there is something that would bring Marie, I should say, sevenor eight hundred francs more, at least. That would enable her toset up a shop or laundry, and to earn her own living. I thank youfrom my heart, monsieur, for her and for myself."
Terence and Ryan slept as soundly as usual until aroused by Jules.Then they put on their sea boots again, loaded themselves with thenets and the bags with the provisions and wine, while Jules tookthe water barrel and after saying goodbye to Marie, started. Therewas not a soul on the wharf and, putting the stores down at the topof the steps, they watched Jules who, after taking off his boots,went across a plank to the ship, made his way noiselessly out on tothe bow, swinging himself down into the boat, loosening the headrope before he did so. A push with the oar against the ship's bowsent the boat alongside the quay, and he then worked her along,with his hands against the wall, until he reached the steps.
The stores
were at once transferred to the boat, and they pushed itout into the stream. The tide had but just turned to run out and,for half a mile, they allowed her to drift down the river. By thistime the light was broadening out in the sky. Jules stepped themast and hoisted the sail, and then seated himself in the stern andput an oar out in the hole cut for it to steer with. Terencewatched the operation carefully. The wind was nearly due aft, andthe boat ran rapidly through the water.
"We are just right as to time," Jules said, as he looked back wherethe river made a bend. "There are two others coming down half amile behind us, so that we shall only seem to be rather earlierbirds than the rest."
Near the mouth of the river two gunboats were anchored. They passedwithin a short distance of one of these, and a solitary sailor,keeping anchor watch on deck, remarked:
"You are going to have a fine day for your fishing, comrade."
"Yes, I think so, but maybe there will be more wind presently."
Some time before reaching the gunboat, Ryan had lain down and thenets were thrown loosely over him, as it would be better that thereshould not seem to be more than the two hands that were generallycarried in the small fishing boats. Once out of the river theysteered south, laying a course parallel to the shore and about amile out. After an hour's sail Jules directed her head into alittle bay, took out an empty basket that he had brought with him,and stepped ashore, after a cordial shake of the hand. He hadalready advised them to bear very gradually to the southwest, andhad left a small compass on board for their guidance.
"They are things we don't often carry," he said, "in boats of thissize; but it will be well for you to take it. If you were blown outof sight of land you would find it useful. Keep well out from theSpanish coast, at any rate until you are well past Bilbao; afterthat you can keep close in, if you like, for you will be taken fora fishing boat from one of the small villages.
"I shall walk straight back now to the town. No questions are askedat the gates and, if anyone did happen to take notice of me, theywould suppose I had been round peddling fish at the farmhouses."
Coming along, he had given instructions to Terence as to sailingthe boat. When running before the wind the sheet was to be loose,while it was to be tightened as much as might be necessary to makethe sail stand just full, when the wind was on the beam or forwardof it.
"You will understand," he said, "that when the wind is right aheadyou cannot sail against it. You must then get the sail in as flatas you can, and sail as near as you can to the wind. Then when youhave gone some distance you must bring her head round, till thesail goes over on the other side; and sail on that tack, and somake a zigzag course: but if the wind should come dead ahead, Ithink your best course would be to lower the sail and row againstit. However, at present, with the wind from the east, you will beable to sail free on your proper course."
Then he pushed the boat off.
"You had better put an oar out and get her head round," he said,"before hoisting the sail again. Goodbye; bon voyage!"
Since leaving the river, Terence had been sailing under hisinstructions and, as soon as the boat was under way again he saidto his companion:
"Here we are, free men again, Dicky."
"I call it splendid, Terence. She goes along well. I only hope shewill keep on like this till we get to Corunna or, better still, tothe mouth of the Douro."
"We must not count our chickens before they are hatched, Dicky.There are storms and French privateers to be reckoned with. We arenot out of the wood yet, by a long way. However, we need not botherabout them, at present. It is quite enough that we have got a stoutboat and a favouring wind."
"And plenty to eat and drink, Terence; don't forget that."
"No, that is a very important item, especially as we dare not landto buy anything, for some days."
"What rate are we going through the water, do you think?"
"Jules said we were sailing about four knots an hour when we weregoing down the river, and about three when we had turned south andpulled the sail in. I suppose we are about halfway between the twonow, so we can count it as three knots and a half."
"That would make," Ryan said, after making the calculation,"eighty-four miles in twenty-four hours."
"Bravo, Dicky! I doubted whether your mental powers were equal toso difficult a calculation. Well, Jules said that it was about fourhundred miles to Corunna, and about a hundred and fifty toSantander, beyond which he thought we could land safely at anyvillage."
"Oh, let us stick to the boat as long as we can!" Ryan exclaimed.
"Certainly. I have no more desire to be tramping among thosemountains and taking our chance with the peasants than you have,and if the wind keeps as it is now we should be at Corunna insomething like five days. But that would be almost too much to hopefor. So that it does but keep in its present direction till we arepast Santander, I shall be very well satisfied."
The mountains of Navarre and Biscay were within sight from the timethey had left the river, and it did not need the compass to showthem which way they should steer. There were many fishing boatsfrom Nivelle, Urumia, and Saint Sebastian to be seen, dotted overthe sea on their left. They kept farther out than the majority ofthese, and did not pass any of them nearer than half a mile.
After steering for a couple of hours, Terence relinquished the oarto his companion.
"You must get accustomed to it, as well as I," he said, "for wemust take it in turns, at night."
By twelve o'clock they were abreast of a town; which was, they hadno doubt, San Sebastian. They were now some four miles from theSpanish coast. They were travelling at about the same rate as thatat which they had started, but the wind came off the high land, andsometimes in such strong puffs that they had to loosen the sheet.The fisherman had shown them how to shorten sail by tying down thereef points and shifting the tack and, in the afternoon, thesqualls came so heavily that they thought it best to lower the sailand reef it. Towards nightfall the wind had risen so much that theymade for the land, and when darkness came on threw out the littlegrapnel the boat carried, a hundred yards or so from the shore, ata point where no village was visible. Here they were sheltered fromthe wind and, spreading out the nets to form a bed, they laidthemselves down in the bottom of the boat, pulling the sail partlyover them.
"This is jolly enough," Ryan said. "It is certainly pleasanter tolie here and look at the stars than to be shut up in that hidingplace of Jules's."
"It is a great nuisance having to stop, though," Terence replied."It is a loss of some forty miles."
"I don't mind how long this lasts," Ryan said cheerfully. "I couldgo on for a month at this work, providing the provisions would holdout."
"I don't much like the look of the weather, Dicky. There wereclouds on the top of some of the hills and, though we can managethe boat well enough in such weather as we have had today, it willbe a different thing altogether if bad weather sets in. I shouldnot mind if I could talk Spanish as well as I can Portuguese. Thenwe could land fearlessly, if the weather was too bad to hold on.But you see, the Spanish hate the Portuguese as much as they do theFrench; and would, as likely as not, hand us over at once at thenearest French post."
They slept fairly and, at daybreak, got up the grapnel and hoistedthe sail again. Inshore they scarcely felt the wind but, as soon asthey made out a couple of miles from the land, they felt that itwas blowing hard.
"We won't go any farther out. Dick, lay the boat's head to the westagain. I will hold the sheet while you steer, and then I can letthe sail fly, if a stronger gust than usual strikes us. Sit wellover this side."
'She is walking along now.']
"She is walking along now," Ryan said joyously. "I had no idea thatsailing was as jolly as it is."
They sped along all day and, before noon, had passed Bilbao. As theafternoon wore on the wind increased in force, and the clouds beganto pass rapidly overhead, from the southeast.
"We had better get her in to the shore," Terence said. "Even withthis scrap of sail, we
keep on taking the water in on that lowerside. I expect Santander lies beyond that point that runs out aheadof us, and we will land somewhere this side of it."
But as soon as they turned the boat's head towards the shore, andhauled in the sheet as tightly as they could, they found that, tryas they would, they could not get her to lie her course.
"We sha'n't make the point at all," Terence said, half an hourafter they had changed the course. "Besides, we have been nearlyover, two or three times. I dare say fellows who understood a boatwell could manage it but, if we hold on like this, we shall end bydrowning ourselves. I think the best plan will be to lower the sailand mast, and row straight to shore."
"I quite agree with you," Ryan said. "Sailing is pleasant enough ina fair wind, but I cannot say I care for it, as it is now."
With some difficulty, for the sea was getting up, they lowered thesail and mast and, getting out the oars, turned her head straightfor the shore. Both were accustomed to rowing in still water, butthey found that this was very different work. After struggling atthe oars for a couple of hours, they both agreed that they were agood deal farther away from the land than when they began.
"It is of no use, Dick," Terence said. "If we cannot make againstthe wind while we are fresh, we certainly cannot do so when we aretired; and my arms feel as if they would come out of theirsockets."
"So do mine," Ryan said, with a groan. "I am aching all over, andboth my hands are raw with this rough handle. What are we to do,then, Terence?"
"There is nothing to do that I can see, but to get her head roundand run before the wind. It is a nuisance, but perhaps the galewon't last long and, when it is over, we can get up sail and makefor the northwestern point of Spain. We have got provisions enoughto last for a week.
"That is more comfortable," he added, as they got the boat in therequired direction. "Now, you take the steering oar, Dick, and seethat you keep her as straight as you can before the wind; while Iset to and bale. She is nearly half full of water."
It took half an hour's work, with the little bowl they found in theboat, before she was completely cleared of water. The relief givento her was very apparent, for she rose much more lightly on thewaves.
"We will sit down at the bottom of the boat, and take it by turnsto hold the steering oar."
They had brought with them a lantern in which a lighted candle waskept burning, in order to be able to light their pipes. This wasstowed away in a locker in the stern, with their store of biscuitand, after eating some of these, dividing a bottle of wine, andlighting their pipes, they felt comparatively comfortable. Theywere, of course, drenched to the skin and, as the wind was cold,they pulled the sail partly over them.
"She does not ship any water now, Terence. If she goes on likethis, it will be all right."
"I expect it will be all right, Dick, though it is sure to be verymuch rougher than this when we get farther out. Still, I fancy anopen boat will live through almost anything, providing she is lightin the water. I don't suppose she would have much chance if she hada dozen men on board, but with only us two I think there is everyhope that she will get through it.
"It would be a different thing if the wind was from the west, andwe had the great waves coming in from the Atlantic, as we had inthat heavy gale when we came out from Ireland. As it is, nothingbut a big wave breaking right over her stern could damage us veryseriously. There is not the least fear of her capsizing, with uslying in the bottom."
They did not attempt to keep alternate watches that night, onlychanging occasionally at the steering oar, the one not occupieddozing off occasionally. The boat required but little steering for,as both were lying in the stern, the tendency was to run straightbefore the wind. As the waves, however, became higher, she neededkeeping straight when she was in a hollow between two seas. Itseemed sometimes that the waves following behind the boat mustbreak on to her, and swamp her but, as time after time she roseover them, their anxiety on this score lessened, and they grew moreand more confident that she would go safely through it.
Occasionally the baler was used, to keep her clear of the waterwhich came in in the shape of spray. At times they chattedcheerfully, for both were blessed with good spirits and the facultyof looking on the best side of things. They smoked their pipes inturns, getting fire from each other, so as to avoid the necessityof resorting to the lantern, which might very well blow out, inspite of the care they had at first exercised by getting under thesail with it when they wanted a light.
They were heartily glad when morning broke. The scene was a wildone. They seemed to be in the centre of a circle of mist, whichclosed in at a distance of half a mile or so, all round them. Attimes the rain fell, sweeping along with stinging force but, wet asthey were, this mattered little to them.
"I would give something for a big glass of hot punch," Ryan said,as he munched a piece of biscuit.
"Yes, it would not be bad," Terence agreed; "but I would ratherhave a big bowl of hot coffee."
"I have changed my opinion of a seafaring life," Ryan said, after apause. "It seemed delightful the morning we started, but it has itsdrawbacks; and to be at sea in an open boat, during a strong galein the Bay of Biscay, is distinctly an unpleasant position."
"I fancy it is our own fault, Dicky. If we had known how to managethe boat, I have no doubt that we should have been able to get toshore. When the wind first began to freshen, we ought not to havewaited so long as we did, before we made for shelter."
"Well, we shall know better next time, Terence. I think that, nowthat it is light, we had better get some sleep, by turns. Do youlie down for four hours, and then I will take a turn."
"All right! But be sure you wake me up, and mind you don't go tosleep; for if you did we might get broadside on to these waves, andI have no doubt they would roll us over and over. So mind, ifbefore the four hours are up you feel you cannot keep your eyesopen, wake me at once. Half an hour will do wonders for me, and Ishall be perfectly ready to take the oar again."