furnish the boat we needed; so I determined to put all to
the hazard and make for Cancale. It was, as nearly as they could
tell, about five and twenty miles from our present position, so
that we could not hope to reach it before night, and we had to
reconcile ourselves to the prospect of another day's march across
country on the morrow.

We set off, a strange company indeed. One of the deserters led the
way; behind him went the cart containing the French captain and his
men, now passing as deserters, and all gagged; then came seven of
my comrades with their hands tied, the other two deserters marching
one on each side of them; and the rear was brought up by the bosun,
Joe and myself, and the two men being attired as French soldiers
and having their heads bandaged, their supposed wounds being
sufficient to account for their silence if they were addressed.

Having plenty of time before us, we chose devious and little
frequented roads, the deserters who led us being fortunately
familiar with the district. We avoided the villages when we could,
but towards evening came to a hamlet which it was impossible to
shun, since only through it could we gain a ford at a stream that
crossed our route.

The appearance of a party of soldiers aroused great interest among
the villagers. They came about us, asking who we were and whither
we were going. They were greatly excited when they learned that we
were escorting deserters and recaptured English prisoners. The real
deserters told a glib story of the furious fight they had had with
the villains (pointing to the unhappy officer and his men). The
villagers threw up their hands with shrill exclamations at this
moving recital, and, going up to the cart, gazen open-mouthed and
not without a secret sympathy at the prostrate forms.

Then they asked why the deserters were gagged. At this I took up
the tale, explaining that they were desperate characters, and had
used such terrible language against his sacred majesty the king
that, as a loyal officer, I had sworn they should not speak again
until they were safely jailed in St. Malo. The captain's face was
distorted with rage as he listened to this libel: he flung his
manacled hands about and made frantic efforts to speak, which Joe's
gag was too thoroughly fixed to allow.

"Voila!" said I, with a dramatic gesture; and the simple villagers,
taking the officer's writhings and gnashings as so much evidence of
his desperate wickedness, poure