With the wind as it was, we thought that we should probably make the
land somewhere about the Dorsetshire coast, should we not in the
meantime fall in with any homeward-bound ship.

From the position of Saint Malo on the coast of France, far down in the
deep bay or bight in which is found the islands of Jersey and Guernsey,
it will be seen that we had a long voyage before us to perform in an
open boat of so small a size and in the middle of winter. However, not
one of us thought about that. By daylight we had made such progress
that we were completely out of sight of land. A difference of opinion
now arose among us. La Motte very naturally wished to put into
Guernsey. It was his own country; he knew it well, and he undertook to
pilot us in there. Most of the men were anxious, as the breeze was
fair, to stand on at once for the coast of England.

"Now, mates," said he, "just listen to what I have to say. If the wind
continues fair, and we do not fall in with an enemy's cruiser, all well
and good, we may hit some harbour, or we may beach the boat with safety,
and get on shore; but now just look at the other side of the question.
We may be picked up by an enemy, and as we are in a French boat with the
name of her port on her stern, we shall be sent back from whence we have
come, and be much worse off than if we had remained aboard the lugger.
That's one thing which may occur; or the wind may change, and a gale
spring up, and instead of making the English coast in a couple or three
days, as you expect, we may be swamped, or be knocked about for a week
or ten days, and perhaps after all be driven back on to the coast of
France. Now, what I say is this? Here is Guernsey on our starboard
bow. We may be there by to-morrow morning at farthest. I've friends
who'll treat you kindly. You'd have time to look about you, and you'll
have no fear of being pressed; whereas if you land in England, after
all, before you get to your homes you may find yourselves in the hands
of a pressgang, and once more aboard a man-of-war."

I thought that there was so much reason in what La Motte urged, that,
anxious as I was to be in England, I could not help siding with him.
All the rest of the men were, however, dead against us. They had talked
so much of the delights of being on shore, that, in spite of all risks,
they were unwilling that any delay should occur.

"No, no; hurrah for Old England!" they cried. "As long as the breeze