h of the rudder being necessarily proportioned to the height of
the vessel. Three men, the skipper and two sailors, with a cabin-boy,
sufficed to navigate these ponderous sea-going machines. The decks, fore
and aft, were, as we have already said, without bulwarks. The great
lumbering hull of this particular vessel was painted black, and on it,
visible even in the night, stood out, in white letters, the words,
_Vograat, Rotterdam_.

About that time many events had occurred at sea, and amongst others, the
defeat of the Baron de Pointi's eight ships off Cape Carnero, which had
driven the whole French fleet into refuge at Gibraltar; so that the
Channel was swept of every man-of-war, and merchant vessels were able to
sail backwards and forwards between London and Rotterdam, without a
convoy.

The vessel on which was to be read the word _Vograat_, and which
Gwynplaine was now close to, lay with her main-deck almost level with
the wharf. But one step to descend, and Homo in a bound, and Gwynplaine
in a stride, were on board.

The deck was clear, and no stir was perceptible. The passengers, if, as
was likely, there were any, were already on board, the vessel being
ready to sail, and the cargo stowed, as was apparent from the state of
the hold, which was full of bales and cases. But they were, doubtless,
lying asleep in the cabins below, as the passage was to take place
during the night. In such cases the passengers do not appear on deck
till they awake the following morning. As for the crew, they were
probably having their supper in the men's cabin, whilst awaiting the
hour fixed for sailing, which was now rapidly approaching. Hence the
silence on the two decks connected by the gangway.

The wolf had almost run across the wharf; once on board, he slackened
his pace into a discreet walk. He still wagged his tail--no longer
joyfully, however, but with the sad and feeble wag of a dog troubled in
his mind. Still preceding Gwynplaine, he passed along the after-deck,
and across the gangway.

Gwynplaine, having reached the gangway, perceived a light in front of
him. It was the same that he had seen from the shore. There was a
lantern on the deck, close to the foremast, by the gleam of which was
sketched in black, on the dim background of the night, what Gwynplaine
recognized to be Ursus's old four-wheeled van.

This poor wooden tenement, cart and hut combined, in which his childhood
had rolled along, was fastened to the bottom