It was the bore, or "La Barre"--a tidal wave caused by the flood tide forcing its way into the funnel-shaped estuary and overwhelming the ebb. "Hang on to something, all hands!" shouted Mr. Armitage. "Hard-a-starboard, Peter." Round swung the _Olivette_ until her bows pointed down-stream. "Easy ahead!" was the next order. Straight for the centre of the bow-shaped wall of water the staunch little craft headed. Into it she plunged, thrusting her bluff snout deep into the wave. A foaming torrent swept the foredeck, and, breaking against the wheel-house, flew high in the air in a cloud of spray. For a few seconds it seemed as if the _Olivette_ were standing on her heel. Her momentum was temporarily stopped. Somewhere below, the sound audible above the roar of the bore, came the crash of broken glass. Then with a dizzy, disconcerting movement the boat slid down the reverse side of the liquid wall into the agitated water beyond. "There's another one, sir!" exclaimed Peter as soon as the moisture on the wheel-house windows cleared sufficiently to enable him to see ahead. Three more times in quick succession the _Olivette_ charged moving walls of roaring surf-crested water; then she found herself in a turmoil of dangerous waves, steep, irregular, and silent as they surged onwards in the wake of the bore. In a few moments the agitation died away; the _Olivette_ ported helm, and, with a six-knot tide to aid her on her way, progressed rapidly up-stream. "Jolly exciting, eh, what?" exclaimed Peter. "Does that happen twice every day, sir? If so, what do we do when there's a bore at night?" "We'll certainly have a repetition of it," replied Mr. Armitage, "but I hope we'll be in fairly sheltered water to-night. We've struck it at rather an awkward time, as we're right on the top of the spring tides. At neaps the bore is hardly noticeable." Before the tide changed again the _Olivette_ had passed Caudebec and followed the wide and sharp curve that the Seine makes round the forest of Jumièges, and brought up off the little town of Duclair. "We won't feel much of the bore here," said Mr. Armitage, when the _Olivette_ had picked up a set of moorings lent by a courteous Frenchman. "It will be safe to leave the boat; so who's for the shore? A jolly good walk will do us good. Are you coming with us, Tom?" Old Boldrigg expressed his readiness to go. Hitherto he had spent most of his time on board while the _Olivette_ was in port. "And what did you think of the bore, Mr. Boldrigg?" asked Peter, while the old seaman was changing into "shore rig". "Not much, by a long chalk, Master Peter," was the reply. "When I saw that there a-bearing down on us, I wished I was properly afloat--plenty of sea-room, you'll understand. Rivers is all very well, but give me the deep sea--it's safer." CHAPTER XIV The Derelict