shortly after, a slight heave gave Merriman a foretaste of what he
must soon expect. The sea was like a mill pond, but as they came out
from behind the Pointe de Grave they began to feel the effect of the
long, slow ocean swell. As soon as he dared Hilliard turned
southwards along the coast. This brought the swells abeam, but so
large were they in relation to the launch that she hardly rolled, but
was raised and lowered bodily on an almost even keel. Though Merriman
was not actually ill, he was acutely unhappy and experienced a thrill
of thanksgiving when, about five o'clock, they swung round east and
entered the estuary of the Lesque.

"Must go slowly here," Hilliard explained, as the banks began to
draw together. "There's no sailing chart of this river, and we
shall have to feel our way up."

For some two miles they passed through a belt of sand dunes, great
yellow hillocks shaded with dark green where grasses had seized a
precarious foothold. Behind these the country grew flatter, and
small, blighted-looking shrubs began to appear, all leaning
eastwards in witness of the devastating winds which blew in from
the sea. Farther on these gave place to stunted trees, and by the
time they had gone ten or twelve miles they were in the pine forest.
Presently they passed under a girder bridge, carrying the railway
from Bordeaux to Bayonne and the south.

"We can't be far from the mill now," said Hilliard a little later.
"I reckoned it must be about three miles above the railway."

They were creeping up very slowly against the current. The engines,
running easily, were making only a subdued murmur inaudible at any