Thanks to the early tidings which the guardsman had brought with him, his little party was now ahead of the news. As they passed through the village of Louvier in the early morning they caught a glimpse of a naked corpse¹ upon a dunghill, and were told by a grinning watchman that it was that of a Huguenot who had died impenitent², but that was a common enough occurrence already, and did not mean that there had been any change in the law. At Rouen all was quiet, and Captain Ephraim Savage³ before evening had brought both them and such property as they had saved aboard of his brigantine, the Golden Rod. It was but a little craft, some seventy tons burden, but at a time when so many were putting out to sea in open boats, preferring the wrath⁴ of Nature to that of the king, it was a refuge indeed. The same night the seaman⁵ drew up his anchor and began to slowly make his way down the winding⁶ river.

And very slow work it was. There was half a moon shining and a breeze from the east, but the stream writhed⁷ and twisted and turned until sometimes they seemed to be sailing up rather than down. In the long reaches they set the yard square and ran, but often they had to lower their two boats and warp⁸ her painfully along, Tomlinson of Salem, the mate, and six grave, tobacco-chewing, New England seamen⁹ with their broad palmetto hats, tugging¹⁰ and straining at the oars¹¹. Amos Green, De Catinat, and even the old merchant had to take their spell ere morning, when the sailors were needed aboard for the handling of the canvas. At last, however, with the early dawn the river broadened out and each bank trended away, leaving a long funnel-shaped

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