eady, and did not mean that there had been any change in
the law. At Rouen all was quiet, and Captain Ephraim Savage before
evening had brought both them and such property as they had saved aboard
of his brigantine, the Golden Rod. It was but a little craft, some
seventy tons burden, but at a time when so many were putting out to sea
in open boats, preferring the wrath of Nature to that of the king, it
was a refuge indeed. The same night the seaman drew up his anchor and
began to slowly make his way down the winding river.

And very slow work it was. There was half a moon shining and a breeze
from the east, but the stream writhed and twisted and turned until
sometimes they seemed to be sailing up rather than down. In the long
reaches they set the yard square and ran, but often they had to lower
their two boats and warp her painfully along, Tomlinson of Salem, the
mate, and six grave, tobacco-chewing, New England seamen with their
broad palmetto hats, tugging and straining at the oars. Amos Green, De
Catinat, and even the old merchant had to take their spell ere morning,
when the sailors were needed aboard for the handling of the canvas.
At last, however, with the early dawn the river broadened out and each
bank trended away, leaving a long funnel-shaped estuary between.
Ephraim Savage snuffed the air and paced the deck briskly with a twinkle
in his keen gray eyes. The wind had fallen away, but there was still
enough to drive them slowly upon their course.

"Where's the gal?" he asked.

"She is in my cabin," said Amos Green. "I thought that maybe she could
manage there until we got across."

"Where will you sleep yourself, then?"

"Tut, a litter of spruce boughs and a sheet of birch bark over me have
been enough all these years. What would I ask better than this deck of
soft white pine and my blanket?"

"Very good. The old man and his nephew, him with the blue coat, can
have the two empty bunks. But you must speak to that man, Amos. I'll
have no philandering aboard my ship, lad--no whispering or cuddling or
any such foolishness. Tell him that this ship is just a bit broke off
from Boston, and he'll have to put up with Boston ways until he gets off
her. They've been good enough for better men than him. You give me the
French for 'no philandering,' and I'll bring him up with a round turn
when he drifts."

"It's a pity we left so quick or they might have been married before we
started. She's a good g