284 ALONGSHORE v 



were there to watch then* menfolk in and out, to 

 give them their first greetings and last farewells. 

 Fussy steam-tugs towed as many as three drifters 

 up and down the strait channel. Hawsers parted. 

 Collisions were narrowly averted. The crews of 

 twenty or thirty men clustered up in the bows, 

 singing themselves to sea, or else made sail in 

 haste to catch the first wind outsidfe. Behind us, 

 over Boulogne, dark clouds hung low, and the 

 smoke from the harbour writhed up to the dome 

 of Notre Dame, so placidly, so protectively 

 dominating the town. The sun came out. It 

 shone on the golden crosses and sacred statuettes 

 which top the topmasts of the sailing vessels. 

 May St. Jacques, the fishers' saint, and Notre 

 Dame de Bon Secours aid them ! The sky looked 

 wild, the sun stormy. A sou'westerly breeze 

 sprang up quietly, like an enemy from ambush. 

 It bellied the sails in the offing. It lifted the 

 clouds off the sea. It revealed for a minute or 

 two the white cliffs of England. 



'Shall us stay out our tickets, Jim,' I asked, 

 'and not go home till Tuesday?' 



'Had us better to ?' 



'Can if you like, if we've got enough money.' 



We counted our money. 



