After some slight objections, which I easily removed, we wrote a new letter to Monsieur d’Orvilliers, of which I was to be the bearer, and, every thing being ready, we embarked--four French and five English--to go to Cayenne. In taking leave of the captain, I said to him, “that if the war continued, and he or any others of his nation should come to Cayenne, I could not again be made prisoner.” He answered me, “that he knew that already; the custom being not twice to make prisoner of the same person in the course of the same war, at least, unless he should be taken with arms in his hands.” I then thanked him for his honorable treatment of myself, and, grasping his hand, I said to him: “Monsieur, two things give me pain at this parting. It is not exactly the pillage you have made at Oyapoc, because the French will perhaps return you the same with interest; but it is, in the first place, because we have not both of us the same faith; and in the second place, because your people have not been willing to return to me the furniture of my church on the conditions I proposed, reasonable as they are, for it causes me to fear lest the profanation of what belongs to the temple of the Lord may draw down His anger upon you. I would advise you,” I added, while embracing him, “to pray God each day to enlighten you as to the true way to heaven; for as there is but one God, so there can be but one true faith.” After which I descended into the boat which was to carry us; and immediately I saw all the crew come up on deck, the flag and pennant were hoisted, the gun was fired, and we were many times saluted with “_Houras_,” to which we replied as often with “_Vive le roi_.” Scarcely had we gone a quarter of a league on our way when the ship got under sail, and, toward five o’clock, we lost sight of her. The sea, however, was very rough, and we had only miserable oars to row with, when, to complete our difficulty, our rudder became disabled. A hinge, which was held in its place by a screw below, came out and fell into the sea. We then resorted to the only expedient in our power, that of attaching the ring of the rudder to the stern-post of the boat; but the iron shortly wore off the cord, and we found ourselves in great danger. What increased our fear was, that the night became very dark, and we were far distant from land. We determined, therefore, to anchor until next morning, when we could find out some way to relieve ourselves from this unfortunate condition. As the English appreciated better than we did the peril in which we were, one of them proposed to me to hoist the lantern high up on one of the masts, as a signal for succor. But I represented to him its uselessness, because we were too far distant to be seen, and, besides, no one would dare to come to us in the uncertainty whether we were friends or enemies.