passengers from Havre, was here exchanged for two smaller, better
suited to the state of the river. We were taught to expect rather a
large party, as we had understood that forty persons were going from
our hotel.

The bell of the _Dorade_, the opposition vessel, was sounding its
tocsin to summon passengers on board, while ours was altogether mute.
Presently, through the grey mist of the morning, we observed parties
flocking down to the place of embarkation, who, somewhat to our
surprise, all entered the other vessel. A large boat in the centre, in
which the baggage is deposited, was speedily filled, carpet bags being
piled upon carpet bags, until a goodly pyramid arose, which the rising
sun touched with every colour of the prism. The decks of the _Dorade_
were now crowded with passengers, while two respectable-looking young
women, in addition to ourselves, formed the whole of our company.

Our bell now gave out a few faint sounds, as if rather in compliance
with the usual forms observed, than from any hope that its warning
voice would be heeded; and getting up our steam, we took the lead
gallantly, as if determined to leave the heavier boat behind.
Presently, however, the _Dorade_ passed us with all her gay company,
and speeding swiftly on her way, would have been out of sight in a few
minutes, but for the windings of the river, which showed us her smoke
like a pennon in the distance. We were now left alone in our glory,
and felt assured of what we had more than suspected before, namely,
that we had got into the wrong boat. We then, though rather too
late, inquired the cause of the extraordinary disproportion of the
passengers, and were told that the _Etoile_ was the favourite boat
going down the river, while the _Dorade_ had it hollow in going up.