Now, together and alone--since Mrs. Pottle had departed some day or two before to Fanshawe Manor, to which they were to follow later, when the _Mignonne_ would have sailed on her final cruise to join the fleet and take part in fighting France--they watched for the dawn to come; watched knowing that, with it, the lights on the frigate's masts would be put out, the sails be bent, and then--then--Ariadne would be desolate. At last, the dayspring was at hand. Towards the east, beneath the dark blue and windswept heavens, they saw the primrose hue coming; soon they knew that there would appear a brighter, more vivid yellow, and then the sun, and with that sun, departure. Already poor Ariadne could see, even without the perspective glass which Geoffrey had left behind for her use, that all was excitement and bustle aboard the ship. For by now the pipes were sounding, they could hear the hawsers coming on board, and the men singing too; and then Ariadne, her hand clutching Anne's arm, saw the outer jib loosed to the light south-westerly breeze which was blowing from where London lay. "Oh, Anne!" she whispered, "it is the first time he has left me since we were wed. The first time, and now he is going. Look at those hateful sails, and--oh! how can they sing?" "Be brave," said Anne, whose husband was not going away to sea; Anne, who, had he been doing so, would certainly have felt no regret; "heart up, you are a sailor's wife." But that did not comfort the girl, who watched now, without understanding, everything taking place; for--although she knew not the meaning of fore and main top-gallant sails and spankers, nor anything of mainsails, nor mainroyals and mizzen top-gallants, nor staysails and jibs--she could see that the _Mignonne_ was moving, going down the river towards where the sea was, with on it, perhaps, the great French fleet and also the dreaded Thurot who was reported to be lurking near. "He sees me!" she cried; "he sees me! Oh, God! he waves a handkerchief from--what is it?--the waist! He sees me--ah! Anne--Anne--look--oh!" she cried, "the ship is passing round that point. Oh! Anne, she is gone." "Heart up," again said Anne, comforting, yet still resolute. "'Tis but for a week. He will come back, my dear." Then she led the girl to her bed, and, getting into it herself, took her in her arms and caressed and soothed her. * * * * * * *