SUFFERINGS OF LIEUTENANT o'bRIEN. 247 



We were now once more in a wandering situation, found there was no 

 confidence to be placed in any thing scarcely that these wretches said. The 

 weather, however, and the approach of day, obliged us to put the veracity of 

 their last information to trial. We shortly discovered the barn and farm- 

 house, and had the good fortune to arrive at the former a little before day- 

 light ; found it full of hay, as they stated ; a most timely relief for us, being 

 quite drenched with the incessant rain, and all over mud and dirt : each soon 

 found, or made a convenient hole for himself through the hay, taking the 

 precaution to work a good way down, and to cover himself well over, lest 

 our steps into this place should lead to suspicion, and we might be discovered ; 

 indeed we were suspicious even of the very people who had directed us hither. 

 So great was our opinion now of the folks we had to deal with. We fell into 

 a most profound sleep, nor did I awake until nine o' clock, (Friday, Septem- 

 ber 18th,) when I heard my name called repeatedly by Mr. Tuthill ; he pro- 

 posed that we should quit this place immediately, and get down to the sea 

 side, as the day was the only time to succeed in procuring a boat, from the 

 method they had of securing them at night. To me, this proposition appeared 

 replete with temerity ; the others did not approve of it, nor did they take 

 much pains to contradict it. I used the most forcible arguments I was 

 master of to dissuade them from so rash a proceeding — pointed out the pre- 

 cautions we had observed in the inland parts of the country, as the only thing 

 that had insured our success in arriving where we then were ; although there 

 was much less danger in the interior than on the sea coast, where there 

 would be of course a strict look-out kept, by custom-house officers, gardes de 

 cote, &c. 



My observations gave rise to a number of arguments ; and, if I recollect 

 right, Mr. Tuthill observed, that he would quit the barn, and proceed by 

 himself, if we persevered in remaining any longer there. I suggested it as 

 the best plan to wait until night : we could, in the event of not succeeding, 

 always make this our rendezvous, and could arrive at it before day-light — ■ 

 procuring subsistence at some lonely cottage during the night. All my 

 rhetoric was in vain : they all appeared to be desirous to try their fortune 

 by day-light. I then requested, at any rate, that they would wait until noon, 

 the usual time for the country people to dine — as we might with the more 

 facility get away unnoticed ; this was agreed to, and at noon we made a 

 sortie, and got on the high road, leading in the direction we intended to take, 

 without being seen by any body. We proceeded along, apparently with great 

 intrepidity — although, I confess, I had the greatest dread of being each 

 moment stopped. It proved to be market day at Estaples ; the road was 

 sometimes very much crowded with country people, going to, and returning 

 from the ferry boat. We passed so many without experiencing anything 

 disagreeable, that I began to think we should succeed in getting to the sand 

 hills, without interruption, where we could remain until night in perfect 

 security. If we were thus fortunate, I considered it would be owing to every 

 one imagining, that no suspicious people would attempt to pass so public a 

 way, in the middle of the day ; but our hopes were too sanguine, as the 

 reader will soon discover, and my apprehensions appeared to be too well 

 founded. 



We kept advancing towards the sand hills with great celerity, little sus- 

 pecting that the moment was near at hand, when every hope of regaining our 

 native soil would be destroyed. Every pleasure we had anticipated on our 

 arrival there, the visiting of our friends, our advancement in our profession — 

 in fact, every thing pleasing to the human mind that we had indulged and 

 cherished, during our long and fatiguing march, was soon to be frustrated. 

 But to proceed ; we had now a poor sorry village to pass ; and, at the very 



