approached us. She was one of the vessels constantly employed on the coast to prevent Protestants leaving the kingdom; and all who were found were seized, and the men sent to the galleys, the women to convents. No language can describe our consternation at this sudden change in our prospects; a moment before the cup of happiness was at our lips and now dashed to the ground.
We were at the distance of a cannon-shot from the frigate, and what would she think of us? We were in a little bit of a boat, at anchor, in a place which did not afford safe anchorage even for large shipping. She cast anchor, ordered the English vessel to do the like, boarded her, and searched every nook and corner, without finding any French Protestants on board except Mr. Mausy, the minister, whose departure was authorized by law, and his family, who were with him, and had passports. What a blessing that we were not on board at this time! Had the frigate been only one hour later in appearing, we should all have been lost. After the search, the Englishman was ordered to sail instantly. The wind was favorable, so he could make no excuse, and we had the misery of seeing him leave us behind. He could not even see us, for the frigate was between him and our boat.
Our situation was deplorable, we were in a state of perfect despair and knew not what to do, for danger stared us in the face alike in every direction. If we remained where we were, we should certainly excite suspicion, and the frigate would send to overhaul us. If we attempted to return to Tremblade, the chances were a hundred to one against our succeeding. To add to our dismay, our poor boatman seemed incapable of exertion, he did nothing but cry and lament over his infatuation, that he should have allowed himself to be persuaded to take
