on the swollen stream. When near enough
he saw that their faces were pale and they were making motions for
him to stop; but the current was so swift that such a thing was
impossible. He was irresistibly carried along by the terrible force. He
next noticed several guards rush out on the bridge, who, throwing off
their coats, began quickly to turn heavy cranks, and then he saw the
sheet of glistening hooks rising slowly from the water. Now he
understood why they had tried to stop him. To be thrown with all that
force against those hooks meant not only certain death, but fearful
mutilation.

Swiftly he drew near the wicked looking points and slowly, oh, so slowly
they rose above the water. The people watched with nervous dread.
Could they be hoisted high enough before he reached them? Many a silent
prayer was murmured that the guards would be successful. Bravely those
men strained every muscle; but the thing was unwieldy and the work was
slow--fearfully slow. The terror of the people was depicted on their
faces. They now saw that the last row of hooks was nearing the surface,
but Boyton was almost upon them. The panting and perspiring guards
redoubled their efforts. Paul swept under and the lower line of hooks
barely allowed him to pass unscathed. A great shout went up from the
crowd.

The current at that point was running fully twelve miles an hour. Boyton
was asked how he felt when going so rapidly: "Such lively motion," he
said, "greatly excites you. Your heart beats fast; you feel as if you
had enormous power, whereas you have no power at all. There is something
in the danger that pleases and thrills you."

After passing under the smuggler's chain gate, his course ran between
lines of hills which fringe the banks of the river. He could see here
and there on the slopes, an old woman with a cow. Every cow seemed to
have a woman attendant in that country. Now and again one of them would
catch sight of Paul as he sped along. For a second she would gaze at the
unusual object and then move off--she and her cow. One old dame happened
to be nearer the water's edge than the others, the voyager saluted by
standing up in the water and shouting:

"Bon jour"

She crossed herself, and fled.

Next morning he was nearing the rapids of the Saute du Rhone, and
inquired of the people he saw: "How far is the Saute?

"About two kilometers," was the answer.

"Which side shall I take for safety?"

"