"
"Nay," said the little knight, "it would be scarce fitting that a
cavalier should throw off his harness for the fear of every puff
of wind and puddle of water. I would rather that my Company
should gather round me here on the poop, where we might abide
together whatever God may be pleased to send. But, certes,
Master Hawtayne, for all that my sight is none of the best, it is
not the first time that I have seen that headland upon the left."
The seaman shaded his eyes with his hand, and gazed earnestly
through the haze and spray. Suddenly he threw up his arms and
shouted aloud in his joy.
"'Tis the point of La Tremblade!" he cried. "I had not thought
that we were as far as Oleron. The Gironde lies before us, and
once over the bar, and under shelter of the Tour de Cordouan, all
will be well with us. Veer again, my hearts, and bring her to
try with the main course!"
The sail swung round once more, and the cog, battered and torn
and well-nigh water-logged, staggered in for this haven of
refuge. A bluff cape to the north and a long spit to the south
marked the mouth of the noble river, with a low-lying island of
silted sand in the centre, all shrouded and curtained by the
spume of the breakers.
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