sailed, some few days at most. I would tell him of it more at length when I joined him at Biloxi.
I gave it, with a broad gold piece, to the old fellow, and directed that he give it to Serigny. There I remained until I saw the man clamber up Le Dauphin's side, when I left at once, fearing further communication from de Serigny.
Entering Boulogne at daybreak, the undulating valley of the Liane claimed not one appreciative glance. The ancient city trembled in its slumber at my feet. Already it became restless with the promise of another day which clad its gables in flame and burned the rough old towers with the shining gold of God. A little beyond, the waters glimmered in the sun's first rays, and writhing seaward tossed themselves in anger against the dim white cliffs of our hereditary foes.
As a picture laid away in memory this all comes back to me pure and fresh, but on that morning I gave it no heed. From the heights I passed along through quiet streets into the lower town, thence to the beach, where I was soon inquiring among the sailors for the privateer. These women looked askance at me, and regarded my unfamiliar uniform with suspicion, but after great difficulty one of their number was induced to carry me alongside an ominous looking craft lying in the harbour—a black-hulled brig of probably six hundred and fifty tons burden. Of the sentinel on deck I asked:
"Is here," and at the word a dark, wiry man, who