ver's mouth, where a bridge of boats, with a
broad gangway for troops, spanned the tidal opening.

There was no bridge across the river yet near the town itself, but,
upon challenge from a sentry, Scudamore stood up and waved his hat, and
shouted in fine nasal and provincial French, "The fisherman, Auguste
Baudry, of Montreuil!" and the man withdrew his musket, and wished him
good success. Then he passed a sandy island with some men asleep upon
it, and began to fear the daybreak as he neared the bridge of boats.
This crossed the estuary at a narrow part, and having to bear much
heavy traffic, was as solid as a floating bridge can be. A double row of
barges was lashed and chained together, between piles driven deep into
the river's bed; along them a road of heavy planks was laid, rising
and falling as they rose and fell with tide, and a drawbridge near the
middle of about eight yards' span must suffice for the traffic of the
little river. This fabric was protected from the heavy western surges
by the shoals of the bar, and from any English dash by a strong shore
battery at either end. At first sight it looked like a black wall across
the river.

The darkness of night is supposed to be deepest just before dawn--but
that depends upon the weather--and the sleep of weary men is often in
its prime at that time. Scudamore (although his life, and all that life
hangs on from heaven, were quivering at the puff of every breeze) was
enabled to derive some satisfaction from a yawn, such as goes the round
of a good company sometimes, like the smell of the supper of sleep
that is to come. Then he saw the dark line of the military bridge, and
lowered his sail, and unstepped his little mast. The strength of the
tide was almost spent, so that he could deal with this barrier at his
leisure, instead of being hurled against it.

Unshipping the rudder and laying one oar astern, Scudamore fetched along
the inner row of piles, for he durst not pass under the drawbridge,
steering his boat to an inch while he sat with his face to the oar,
working noiselessly. Then he spied a narrow opening between two barges,
and drove his boat under the chain that joined them, and after some
fending and groping with his hands in the darkness under the planks
of the bridge, contrived to get out, when he almost despaired of it,
through the lower tier of the supporters. He was quit of that formidable
barrier now, but a faint flush of dawn and of reflection from