gone forward. The proximity of the land and the approach of women--
a bete noire no less dreaded--seemed to flurry the brined spirit of
the Granville's' mate.

Perhaps the knowledge that the end of a rope, not judged clear,
would inevitably be applied to his own person, shook the nerve of
the boy on the forecastle--perhaps his hands were cold and his
faculties benumbed. He cast a line which seemed to promise well at
first. Two coils of it unfolded themselves gracefully against the
grey sky, and then Confusion took the others for herself. A British
oath from the deck of the ship went out to meet a fine French
explosion of profanity from the boat, both forestalling the splash
of the tangled rope into the water under the bows of the ship, and a
full ten yards out of the reach of the man who stood, boathook in
hand, ready to catch it. There were two ladies in the stern of the
boat, muffled up to the eyes, and betokening by their attitude the
hopeless despair and misery which seize the southern fair the moment
they embark in so much as a ferry boat. The fore part of the heavy
craft was piled up with trunks and other impedimenta of a feminine
incongruity. A single boatman had rowed the boat from the shore,
guiding it into mid-stream, and there describing a circle calculated
to insure a gentle approach on the lee side. This man, having laid
aside his oars, now stood, boathook in hand, awaiting the inevitable
crash. The offending boy in the bows was making frantic efforts to
haul in his misguided rope, but the possibility of making a second
cast was unworthy of consideration. The mate muttered such a string
of foreboding expletives as augured ill for the delinquent. The
boatman was preparing to hold on and fend off at the same moment--a
sudden gust of wind gave the boat a sharp buffet just as the man
grappled the mizzen-chains--he overbalanced himself, fell, and