On the poop-deck stood the black-gowned Jesuits, the sad-faced nuns, several members of the great company, soldiers and adventurers.
The wharves and docks and piers were crowded with the curious: bright-gowned peasants, soldiers from the fort, merchants, and a sprinkling of the noblesse.

It was not every day that a great ship left the harbor on so long and hazardous a voyage.
The Chevalier leaned against the railing, dreamily noting the white faces in the sunshine.

He was still vaguely striving to convince himself that he was in the midst of some dream.

He was conscious of an approaching illness, too.

When would he wake?
.