tered the general saloon. This apartment is at the rear of the vessel. It forms a long square, and is furnished with tables, seats without backs, and lanterns suspended from the ceiling. There are two doors, one at each end, and several steps above the lower deck. Over one of the entrances, that of the fore-deck, there is a long inscription, in which the wonderful qualities of the vessel are enumerated—its great quickness, its superior construction, the experience of the captain, and the skilfulness of the sailors. Our boys, like persons who knew their business, had taken possession of two corners, and, by way of avoiding all possible discussion, had arranged our mattresses as if we intended to lie down directly we arrived. We lauded their zeal, and after warning them not to lose sight of our luggage for a single instant, returned to the deck.
This took place towards the end of October, some days after our return from San-Cian, the celebrated island where St. Francis Xavier died three centuries before. The sky was so pure and transparent that it resembled a dome of crystal; the wind was fresh, as the sailors say, and the waves danced joyfully. A squadron of fishing vessels and faï-tings were preparing to depart at the same time; on the right, on the left, before us and behind us, the sound of the gong was heard; then there was a firing of cannons, and we set sail.
