The Sea Scouts retraced their way, keeping to the bank of the river. There were a few craft under way, but in the darkness it was impossible to distinguish what they were. It must have been soon after 2 a.m. that the search-party arrived at the village of Jumièges. Here, fortunately a rowing boat containing a belated fishing-party had just returned. In answer to Mr. Armitage's inquiry, the four people who had just landed--they were Parisian art-students on holiday--all replied at once. "Yes, monsieur, we did see a motor-boat. She passed close, very close, to our little boat. She was towing a large lighter." The Scoutmaster felt disappointed. "I am afraid that is not the motor-boat we are looking for," he said. "Did you happen to notice any of the crew?" "I did, monsieur," declared one of the men. "There was but one visible. He wore a blue blouse and a white hat--so. Like these messieurs here. The light shone from below upon him, understand; therefore I could discern. She was going towards Duclair." "A white boat with a deck-house, sir," corroborated one of his companions, tracing an outline with his finger. "Towards the front one little mast but no funnel. Monsieur is benighted? Then perhaps he would care to accompany us to our lodgings for refreshments." Mr. Armitage demurred, but the students were pressing in their invitation. Accordingly the whole party went into the village, and the Sea Scouts found themselves in strange surroundings--a cabaret. The landlord rose to the occasion. The sight of a couple of grown Englishmen and four English Sea Scouts provoked no comment. In five minutes the hungry search-party were sitting down to hot coffee and biscuits, a long roll, and plenty of fresh Normandy butter. "That is our affair, monsieur," protested one of the students when Mr. Armitage offered to pay for the refreshment. "When I was a _poilu_ of the 141st Regiment we were once on the left of an English battalion. We were hungry and they were well fed--merely a matter of commissariat, monsieur--and when they found out we were famished, half their rations were passed into our trench. Monsieur has served, of course?" Greatly refreshed, the Sea Scouts bade their hospitable hosts farewell, and set out to retrace their way back to Duclair. "Guess we know the way by this time," remarked Peter. "Three times in one night is about the limit. Do we turn out at seven to-morrow--or rather, to-day, sir?" "We're not on board yet, Peter," rejoined the Scoutmaster. "But I think I'm safe in saying that we'll keep to our hammocks till noon."