As I have stated, we left Jethou about noon on the 3rd, and rounded the southern end of hilly Herm, then we laid our course so as to pass between Alderney and Cape La Hogue, but for fear of rocks gave the cape a rather wide berth, so that about three o'clock we had Alderney a couple of miles off on our weather beam. I was laughing at Alec about his yarn of the "Dewdrop," when an idea occurred to me. "What do you say to a glass of ale at the tavern you put up at in Braye for those eleven days, eh, Alec?" "Just the thing. I have not tasted a glass for months." "Nor I," I replied. "Swing her round," and putting the helm over, we made for Braye Harbour to get a glass of beer. The wind being south-west was somewhat against us, but in an hour we were lying safely in the little harbour, not far from the shore end of the great breakwater, which is nearly a mile in length. We had two glasses of ale each and no more, and having verified Alec's yarn of the "Dewdrop," which was substantially correct, once more embarked, and with a fair wind cut through the water at a smart race. Rounding Cape La Hogue we were fortunate to get the tide in our favour, and by sunrise on the 4th could just make out the entrance to Havre, from which we were some seven or eight miles distant, and passing Fecamp, were abreast of Dieppe at three p.m. So far we had done remarkably well, and I proposed to Alec, that as I had a little money, we should go ashore and have a civilized dinner and a look round the town; but he took a different view of the matter, and advocated keeping on as long as the wind favoured us, and to this I readily assented, as the wind was now somewhat unsteady. "Begum" seemed quite to enjoy the fun as well as ourselves, and made himself quite at home, though I have no doubt he would have thoroughly enjoyed a run ashore, and, as luck would have it, that night he had it. Some twenty miles further along the coast, that is, beyond Dieppe, we met with our first mishap. The sea hereabout was decidedly choppy, and the wind very puffy, and during one of these puffs we sprung the foremast, which could not have been very strong, as the wind was not at all high. Consulting a chart of the French coast, which we had obtained at Braye, we decided, as it seemed to be setting in for a dirty night, to round in to the mouth of the river Somme and stay the night at St. Valery, so that we could get a new mast stepped early next morning, before proceeding across Channel. It was lucky we did so, for the wind backed to the westward, raising a lumpy sea, and down came the rain till past midnight, after which the wind lulled and went to south-west again. About two a.m. out came the moon, and quickly chased away the remaining black clouds, after which it was fine again. It did not matter what the weather during the night was, as we were safe in Port St. Valery, from seven p.m. of the 4th, till eleven a.m. on the 5th.