By this time the breeze was freshening nicely, and
Scudamore, ceasing to row, stepped the mast, and hoisting the brown
sail, glided along at a merry pace and with a hopeful heart. Passing the
mouth of the creek, he saw no sign of the traitorous pilot-boat, neither
did he meet any other craft in channel, although he saw many moored at
either bank. But nobody challenged him, as he kept in mid-stream, and
braced up his courage for the two great perils still before him ere he
gained the open sea. The first of these would be the outposts on either
side at Etaples, not far from the barracks where he had been jailed, and
here no doubt the sentinels would call him to account. But a far greater
danger would be near the river's mouth, where a bridge of boats, with a
broad gangway for troops, spanned the tidal opening.
There was no bridge across the river yet near the town itself, but,
upon challenge from a sentry, Scudamore stood up and waved his hat, and
shouted in fine nasal and provincial French, "The fisherman, Auguste
Baudry, of Montreuil!" and the man withdrew his musket, and wished him
good success. Then he passed a sandy island with some men asleep upon
it, and began to fear the daybreak as he neared the bridge of boats.
This crossed the estuary at a narrow part, and having to bear much
heavy traffic, was as solid as a floating bridge can be. A double row of
barges was lashed and chained together, between piles driven deep into
the river's bed; along them a road of heavy planks was laid, rising
and falling as they rose and fell with tide, and a drawbridge near the
middle of about eight yards' span must suffice for the traffic of the
little river.
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