her easy or free of risk, but we
succeeded in getting hold of her. Mr Ronald went up first, followed by
the other men; and as I was far too weak to help myself up, Peter had
gone up the side, and was singing out for a rope, when the Frenchmen,
instigated by what notion I know not, but fancying, I believe, that they
were to be made prisoners, cut off the tow-rope, and hoisting the
foresail, put down the helm, and stood away from the brig. Active as
monkeys, they soon swayed up the mainsail, and, hauling close on a wind,
they rapidly left the brig astern. I saw Peter eagerly waving to them
to come back, and I have no doubt but that he fancied if they did not
they would murder me. The brig, having no after-sail, could not haul
her wind, so that my shipmates were perfectly unable to recover me. I
certainly could do nothing to help myself, so I lay quiet, and trusted
that the Frenchmen would have pity on me. I still thought they might
murder me; and, at all events, expected that I should be sent to a
French prison. I only hoped that we might not reach the part of the
coast we had come from, for I could scarcely expect to escape being put
to death when it was known that I was one of the party who had killed
the French soldiers placed to guard us.

I do not think, at the same time, that the Frenchmen had any murderous
intentions. They were so pleased at recovering their boat and their
liberty, that they were inclined to treat me civilly, if not kindly, and
they continued to supply me with bread and water as I required. As we
were half-way across the Channel, and they had lost their reckoning, we
were not likely, I hoped, to make a good landfall in their attempt to
reach their home.

With anxious eyes I watched the brig on board which my shipmates had
taken refuge, but darkness coming on, we very soon lost sight of her.
My heart sunk within me, and I burst into a fit of tears, the first I
had shed for many a long year. They were as anxious to avoid meeting
any vessel as we had just been to find one. The wind had again chopped
round to the southward, and though not blowing very strong, we made but
little progress.

All night we stood on under close-reefed canvas, and when the next
morning dawned, I saw land to the southward. Its appearance evidently
puzzled the Frenchmen. I guessed it to be no other than that of the
island of Guernsey; while not a mile off, standing towards us under her
topsails, was a large scho