She anchored, and boats put off to take soundings and explore the shores.

Philip was rowed in by Jean Touzel.
Stepping out upon the beach of Mattre 'Ile, Philip slowly made his way over the shingle to the ruined chapel, in no good humour with himself or with the world, for exploring these barren rocks seemed a useless whim of the Admiralty, and he could not conceive of any incident rising from the monotony of duty to lighten the darkness of this very brilliant day.

His was not the nature to enjoy the stony detail of his profession.
Excitement and adventure were as the breath of life to him, and since he had played his little part at the Jersey battle in a bandbox eleven years before, he had touched hands with accidents of flood and field in many countries.
He had been wrecked on the island of Trinidad in a tornado, losing his captain and his ship; had seen active service in America and in India; won distinction off the coast of Arabia in an engagement with Spanish cruisers; and was now waiting for his papers as commander of a ship of his own, and fretted because the road of fame and promotion was so toilsome.

Rumours of war with France had set his blood dancing a little, but for him most things were robbed of half their pleasure because they did not come at once.
This was a moody day with him, for he had looked to spend it differently.

As he walked up the shingle his thoughts were hanging about a cottage in the Place du Vier Prison.