Passage of the Deroute. There was then no lighthouse at any point on
either coast. It had been a clear sunset; the night was darker than
summer nights usually are; it was moonlight, but large clouds, rather
of the equinox than of the solstice overspread the sky, and, judging by
appearances, the moon would not be visible until she reached the
horizon at the moment of setting. A few clouds hung low near the
surface of the sea and covered it with vapor.

All this darkness was favorable. Gacquoil, the pilot, intended to
leave Jersey on the left, Guernsey on the right, and by boldly sailing
between Hanois and Dover, to reach some bay on the coast near St. Malo,
a longer but safer route than the one through Minqulers; for the French
coaster had standing orders to keep an unusually sharp lookout between
St. Hélier and Granville.

If the wind were favorable, and nothing happened, by dint of setting
all sail Gacquoil hoped to reach the coast of France at daybreak.

All went well. The corvette had just passed Gros Nez. Towards nine
o'clock the weather looked sullen, as the sailors express it, both wind
and sea rising; but the wind was favorable, and the sea was rough, yet
not heavy, the waves now and then dashing over the bow of the corvette.
"The peasant" whom Lord Balcarras had called general, and whom the
Prince de La Tour d'Auvergne had addressed as cousin, was a good
sailor, and paced the deck of the corvette with calm dignity. He did
not seem to notice that she rocked considerably. From time to time he
took out of his waistcoat pocket a cake of chocolate, and breaking off
a piece, munched it. Though his hair was gray, his teeth were sound.

He spoke to no one, except that from time to time he made a few concise