all my regards are for the land." Having caused a bed to be made for her on deck, she wept herself asleep, previously enjoining her attendants to waken her at the first peep of day, if the French coast was still visible. Her wishes were gratified; for during the night the wind died away, and the vessel made little progress. Mary rose with the dawn, and feasted her eyes once more with a sight of France. At sunrise, however, the breeze returned, and the galley beginning to make way, the land rapidly receded in the distance. Again her tears burst forth, and again she exclaimed,--"Farewell, beloved France! I shall never, never, see you more." In the depth of her sorrow, she even wished that the English fleet, which she conjectured had been sent out to intercept her, would make its appearance, and render it necessary for her to seek for safety, by returning to the port from whence she had sailed. But no interruption of this kind occurred.[39] It is more than likely, that it was during this voyage Mary composed the elegant and simple little song, so expressive of her genuine feelings on leaving France. Though familiarly known to every reader, we cannot deny ourselves the pleasure of inserting it here. Adieu, plaisant pays de France! O my patrie, La plus cherie; Qui a nourri ma jeune enfance. Adieu, France! adieu, mes beaux jours! La nef qui déjoint mes amours, N'à cy de moi que la moitié; Une parte te reste; elle est tienne; Je la fie à ton amitié, Pour que de l'autre il te souvienne![40] Brantome, who sailed in the same vessel with Mary, and gives a particular account of all the events of this voyage, mentions, that the day before entering the Frith of Forth, so thick a mist came on, that it was impossible to see from the poop to the prow. By way of precaution, lest they should run foul of any other vessel, a lantern was lighted, and set at the bow. This gave Chatelard occasion to remark, that it was taking a very unnecessary piece of trouble, so long at least as Mary Stuart remained upon deck, and kept her eyes open. When the mist, at length, cleared away, they found their vessel in the midst of rocks, from which it required much skill and no little labour to get her clear. Mary declared, that so far as regarded her own feelings, she would not have looked upon shipwreck as a great calamity; but that she would not wish to see the lives of the friends who were with her endangered (among whom not the least dear were her four Maries), for all the kingdom of Scotland. She added, that as a bad omen had attended her departure so this thick fog seemed to be but an evil augury at her arrival. At length, the harbour of Leith appeared in sight, and Mary's eye rested, for the first time, upon Arthur Seat and the Castle of Edinburgh. CHAPTER VII. MARY'S ARRIVAL AT HOLYROOD, WITH SKETCHES OF HER PRINCIPAL NOBILITY.