get down to the mouth of the river, a distance of some seventy
miles, and out to sea, far enough to intercept the vessel. At four
o'clock they arrived at Cumberland, where the Pamunky and Mattapony
Rivers unite and form the York River. Here they were in tidal waters;
and as the tide, though not strong, was flowing up, Vincent tied the
boat to the branch of a tree, and lay down in the bottom for an hour's
sleep, telling Dan to wake him when the tide turned, or if he heard any
noise. Day had broken when the boat drifted round, and Dan aroused him.

The boat was rowed off to the middle of the river, as there could be no
longer any attempt at concealment. Dan now took the bow oar, and they
rowed until a light breeze sprang up. Vincent then put up the mast, and,
having hoisted the sail, took his place at the helm, while Dan went
forward into the bow. They passed several fishing boats, and the smoke
was seen curling up from the huts in the clearings scattered here and
there along the shore. The sun had now risen, and its heat was pleasant
after the damp night air.

Although the breeze was light, the boat made fair way with the tide, and
when the ebb ceased, at about ten o'clock, the mouth of the river was
but a few miles away. The mast was lowered and the sails stowed. The
boat was then rowed into a little creek and tied up to the bushes. The
basket of provisions was opened, and a hearty meal enjoyed, Tony being
now permitted for the first time to sit up in the boat. After the meal
Vincent and Dan lay down for a long sleep, while Tony, who had slept
some hours during the night, kept watch.

At four in the afternoon the tide again slackened, and as soon as it had
fairly turned they pushed out from the creek and again set sail. In
three hours they were at the mouth of the river. A short distance out
they saw several fishing boats, and dropping anchor a short distance
away from these, they lowered their sail, and taking the fishing lines
from the locker of the boat, set to to fish. As soon as it was quite
dark the anchor was hauled up, and Vincent and Dan took the oars, the
wind having now completely dropped. For some time they rowed steadily,
keeping the land in sight on their right hand.

Tony was most anxious to help, but as he had never had an oar in his
hand in his life, Vincent thought that he would do more harm than good.
It was, he knew, some ten miles from the mouth of the York River to
Fortress Monroe, at the entran