Bad business! It is the patrol boat which promenades every night.

Spain's customs officers.

In haste, they must change their direction, use artifice, lose precious time, and they are so belated already.
At last they have arrived without obstacle near the Spanish shore, among the large fishermen's barks which, on stormy nights, sleep there on their chains, in front of the "Marine" of Fontarabia.

This is the perilous instant.

Happily, the rain is faithful to them and falls still in torrents.