The broad lateen sails were spread, and the slaves sat quietly before their oars, ready to row, though for hour after hour there was no need of rowing.

The six vessels kept within easy distance of each other, and Captain Salt, on the deck of _L'Heureuse_, directed their movements with a serenity that cheered even the poor men on the benches below him.

As the awning shook and the masts creaked gently above them, they stretched their limbs, drew long breaths, and felt that after all it was good to live.
So steady did the wind keep all day that about five in the evening they brought the English coast in sight.

It was the opinion of all the captains that they should run up for Harwich at once; but the Englishman had other views.
"It is too early," he told M.de la Pailletine.

"There are cruisers about, and if we are seen the game will be spoiled." He gave orders to lower the sails and stand off till nightfall.
The captain, of course, obeyed.
They had not lain to above an hour when the man who had been sent to the masthead of _L'Heureuse_ shouted out: "A fleet to the north!" "Whither bound ?" called up Captain Salt.
"Steering west." "What number ?" The man was silent for a moment, then answered: "Thirty-six sail, all merchant-built, and an escort." "What is she like ?" "A frigate, of about thirty guns.".