el in the street Dauphine, where already were our stepmother and our
young brothers and sisters, who had returned with her from Brest. Soon
our numerous family were again united. What transports of joy, what
saluting and embracing! O! there is nothing comparable to the pleasure
of meeting with those we love after a long absence!
My father went to visit the officers who were to make the voyage to
Senegal along with us. My step-mother busied herself in preparing
supper, and my sister Caroline, my cousin, and myself, went to sleep;
for any farther exercise but ill accorded with the fatigue we had
already undergone; otherwise we could easily have sat till supper, after
having eat of the good things we had had at the farm of Charente.
We spent the morrow, the 3d of June, in running about the town. In the
space of two hours we had seen every thing worth seeing. What a fine
thing a maritime town is for a maker of romances! But as I have neither
talents nor desire to write one, and as I have promised to the reader to
adhere strictly to the truth, I will content myself by telling him, that
in nine days I was tired of Rochefort.
CHAPTER II.
DEPARTURE FROM ROCHEFORT--THE PICARD FAMILY EMBARK IN THE MEDUSA
FRIGATE--ACCOUNT OF THE VOYAGE TILL THEY REACH THE ARGUIN BANK.
Early on the morning of the 12th of June, we were on our way to the
boats that were to convey us on board the Medusa, which was riding at
anchor off the island of Aix, distant about four leagues from Rochefort.
The field through which we passed was sown with corn. Wishing, before I
left our beautiful France, to make my farewell to the flowers, and,
whilst our family went leisurely forward to the place where we were to
embark upon the Charente, I crossed the furrows, and gathered a few
blue-bottles and poppies. We soon arrived at the place of embarkation,
where we found some of our fellow-passengers, who, like myself, seemed
casting a last look to Heaven, whilst they were yet on the French soil.
We embarked, however, and left these happy shores. In descending the
tortuous course of the Charente, contrary winds so impeded our progress,
that we did not reach the Medusa till the morrow, having taken
twenty-four hours in sailing four leagues. At length we mounted the
deck of the Medusa, of painful memory. When we got on board, we found
our births not provided for us, consequently were obliged to remain
indiscriminately together till next day. Our family,
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