ubtless they enjoyed the mystery, and desired to keep
it up for their own amusement. Howe, when he found a tongue, reproached
his companions in mischief for their cowardice, and boasted of what
great things would have been accomplished if they had supported him to
the end; but his most intimate associates were disgusted with him, and
avoided him as much as possible.

At seven bells in the morning, a breakfast of coffee, mutton chops,
potatoes, and hot biscuit put most of the runaways in the port watch in
better humor than before, and another did a similar service for those
in the starboard watch half an hour later. They ate and drank all they
could, rather than all they needed, and probably shuddered when they
thought of the consequences of evil-doing, as embodied in salt beef and
hard bread, without a drop of water.

At one bell in the forenoon watch, the lookout in the foretop shouted,
"Land, ho, on the lee bow." An hour after, the bold rugged shores of
Ushant were plainly in sight, and Dr. Winstock informed Paul and Grace
that they were in the very waters where the English fleet, under
Admiral Sir Edward Hawkes, had won the great naval victory over the
French in 1759.

"Sail, ho!" shouted the lookout.

"Where away?" called the officer forward.

"On the weather bow. It's a topsail schooner, and looks like the
Josephine."

Glasses were in demand, and the officers soon satisfied themselves that
the sail ahead was the consort. It was evident that, hugging the wind
closely, she had gone farther from the coast than the Young America.
She took a pilot off Ushant, and continued on her course, though Mr.
Lowington was anxious to communicate with her, and learn the result of
the mutiny which had also prevailed on board. Off the island, the ship
was boarded by a pilot, and following the Josephine, passed through the
Goulet de Brest, which is the only entrance to the harbor. This passage
is not more than a mile wide, and is defended on each side by strong
forts. The harbor is a land-locked bay, deep enough for vessels of the
largest class, and with space enough to accommodate, at least, five
hundred of them. Brest is the most important naval station of France,
and its fortress and docks were full of interest to the young tourists.
The city, which contains a population of eighty thousand, is built on
the summit and slopes of a hill, some of the streets upon whose sides
are so steep as to be impassable for vehicles.

The