"Good!" rejoined the Scoutmaster. "Then I think I'll turn in for an hour or so. You'll find a chart of Cherbourg in the wheel-house. Provided you make due allowance for the set of the tide, there is nothing of a difficult nature to contend against. You can just distinguish the central breakwater--the Digue. The eastern entrance is the one for us." Mr. Armitage went below, while Stratton entered the wheel-house and "took over" from Flemming. The next hour passed slowly. Although the young helmsman kept the _Olivette_ well against the tide, her progress seemed painfully slow. It was not until the tide slackened and changed that the boat made any appreciable headway. "Call Mr. Armitage," said Stratton as the _Olivette_ rounded the Fort de l'Est--the easternmost point of the Digue--and the whole of the vast enclosed Cherbourg Harbour came into view. The Scoutmaster was quickly on deck. "We're in, then?" he remarked. "Fine breakwater that. Have you any idea of what it cost?" "No, sir," replied Peter. "Roughly, £220 a linear foot," declared Mr. Armitage. "It took more than seventy years to build, and is 4060 yards in length, or two and a half times the length of Plymouth Breakwater. Now, Roche, slow down to five knots, and stand by the reversing-lever." "Do we anchor, sir?" asked Peter. "No," was the reply. "We'll go into the Avant Port and afterwards into the Bassin à Flot--that's a sort of dock with gates to prevent the water running out. Get the hands ready with the warps and fenders." Very gently the _Olivette_ brought up alongside the weed-covered walls of the quay. As the tide had only just begun to rise, the masonry towered nearly thirty feet above her deck. Willing hands ashore helped to secure the little English craft, from the stern of which the Red Ensign drooped in the calm, sheltered basin. Although it was yet early, the Sea Scouts had to receive a visitor. A short thick-set bearded Frenchman, with a sheaf of papers under his arm, ponderously descended the vertical ladder and scrambled upon the _Olivette's_ deck. "Your papairs, ef you please," he demanded. "From England, eh? you is capitaine, monsieur? Have you anyt'ing to declare?" "_Quelques boîtes d'allumettes, un peu de sel, pas de vin, pas de whisky, pas de tabac,_" replied Mr. Armitage. The _douanier's_ face had grown graver and graver as the recital proceeded. This craft was different from those with which he usually had to deal. English yachts generally had spirits and beer on board, and as a result he had obtained a glass of whisky and a generous _pourboire_. This time he had struck a "dry" ship. "I must ze search make," he declared. "Certainly, Monsieur Jules," rejoined the Scoutmaster in French. "It will not be the first time you have explored my lockers."