en
squeezed by a collision, and was in fact as weak as a charred stick. But
I had entirely forgotten this by some unaccountable fatality, during the
three days at Havre, when it might have been easily repaired.

The moment therefore I had hoisted the jib, the bowsprit end broke sharp
off into a ragged stump, and the jib instantly flew away into the air
just like an umbrella blown inside out.

This was of course a most critical time for such a mishap, with a strong
breeze dead ahead, driving me in upon piles, and a tumbling sea, and
numerous large luggers sailing about me in the dark. Therefore I felt
that this unlucky accident and the southwest wind meant, "I must not go
out to-night. It will not do to begin a voyage of a hundred miles with a
broken bowsprit."

[Picture: For a hundred miles]

All this prudent reasoning was at once cut short by the Frenchmen calling
out, "_Voulez-vous sortir encore_, _monsieur_?" and the Rob Roy thus
hailed could make but one reply, "_Oui_, _oui_, _certainement_;" so I bid
them lay hold again while I captured the truant jib, hauled down and
reefed it, and made it fast to the stem, and then again "_Lachez tous_,"
we are free on the rolling waves.

At the worst, methought, we can return in four or five hours, when the
tide falls, if we find it unadvisable to go on; but meanwhile our yawl
shot away westward to get a good offing from the Cape de la Heve, and
then I cooked breakfast (the former one counted of course in the former
day, according to the excellent rule already explained), and about
half-past four I laid on my straight course to old England, with a
capital breeze on my quarter, and a hundred times glad that I had not
gone back.

CHAPTER XII.

Nodding--Prancing--First Thoughts--England--Mid-channel
thoughts--Battle--Religion--Science--Church--Guide.

Up rose the sun, and all was cheerful. Then I laid her to, and got out
my axe, and chopped the bowsprit into shape, so that it would run out
further, and then set the whole jib firmly on it.

All the feelings restrained so long by the river work, and regatta
amenities, and Exhibition in Paris, now came forth powerfully in a flow
of enthusiasm.

Boys seem to like the stories of the canoe voyages, and perhaps they will
read this one of the yawl. If they have a sailor turn, they will imagine
the new pleasure to be felt when you glide away from a fast-retreating
land, and nothing is in front