During the night the air was calm, and the vessels in which Mary and her company had embarked made such small progress, being worked only by the oars, that the land came into view again with the gray light of the morning. The helmsman awoke Mary, and the sight of the shore renewed her anguish and tears. She said that she _could not_ go. She wished that Elizabeth's ships would come in sight, so as to compel her squadron to return. But no English fleet appeared. On the contrary, the breeze freshened. The sailors unfurled the sails, the oars were taken in, and the great crew of oarsmen rested from their toil. The ships began to make their way rapidly through the rippling water. The land soon became a faint, low cloud in the horizon, and in an hour all traces of it entirely disappeared. The voyage continued for ten days. They saw nothing of Elizabeth's cruisers. It was afterward ascertained, however, that these ships were at one time very near to them, and were only prevented from seeing and taking them by a dense fog, which at that time happened to cover the sea. One of the vessels of burden was seen and taken, and carried to England. It contained, however, only some of Mary's furniture and effects. She herself escaped the danger. The fog, which was thus Mary's protection at one time, was a source of great difficulty and danger at another; for, when they were drawing near to the place of their landing in Scotland, they were enveloped in a fog so dense that they could scarcely see from one end of the vessel to the other. They stopped the progress of their vessels, and kept continually sounding; and when at length the fog cleared away, they found themselves involved in a labyrinth of rocks and shoals of the most dangerous character. They made their escape at last, and went on safely toward the land. Mary said, however, that she felt, at the time, entirely indifferent as to the result. She was so disconsolate and wretched at having parted forever from all that was dear to her, that it seemed to her that she was equally willing to live or to die. Mary, who, among her other accomplishments, had a great deal of poetic talent, wrote some lines, called her Farewell to France, which have been celebrated from that day to this. They are as follows: ADIEU. Adieu, plaisant pays de France! O ma patrie, La plus cherie; Qui a nourri ma jeune enfance. Adieu, France! adieu, mes beaux jours! La nef qui dejoint mes amours, N'a cy de moi que la moitie; Une parte te reste; elle est tienne; Je la fie a ton amitie, Pour que de l'autre il te souvienne.