They did not seem to have any form of service, but in the night, at anchor, Harvey heard them across the star-powdered black water, singing something that sounded like a hymn.

It went to a very slow tune.
La brigantine Qui va tourner, Roule et s'incline Pour m'entrainer.

Oh, Vierge Marie, Pour moi priez Dieu! Adieu, patrie; Quebec, adieu! Tom Platt visited her, because, he said, the dead man was his brother as a Freemason.

It came out that a wave had doubled the poor fellow over the heel of the bowsprit and broken his back.

The news spread like a flash, for, contrary to general custom, the Frenchman held an auction of the dead man's kit,--he had no friends at St.Malo or Miquelon,--and everything was spread out on the top of the house, from his red knitted cap to the leather belt with the sheath-knife at the back.