And the captain of the yacht went aft and called all hands on deck, and gave his orders, and, by dint of loud hallooing and hard swearing, got them so promptly executed that when the tide turned the yacht sailed. They had a very fine run under the starlit sky over the calm sea; but for the painful errand they would have been a party of pleasure. Even as it was, they enjoyed the trip. There was nothing on General Lyon’s conscience, or on Dick’s mind, to deaden either of them to the heavenly beauty of the night. They had slept on the train, and so now they were wide awake on the yacht. They walked up and down the deck talking sociably with each other, admiring the elegant form and the swift-sailing of the yacht, delighting in the fresh breezes of the ocean, and almost worshiping the glory of the star-spangled heavens. They walked up and down fore and aft, while the yacht sped over the waters, until they became hungry, and then they remembered for the first time that they had had neither dinner nor tea, nor had brought any provisions for a meal on board. “It is usual for parties who hire a yacht to find their own grub, I believe, and we never thought of doing it,” said Dick. “We had no time for doing it,” said the General. “Well, I fancy the master does not keep a black fast He must have a secret store somewhere, so I will just step and see.” And Dick went in search of the master, who undertook to be their host for the voyage. In twenty minutes after the voyagers were called to supper in the captain’s cabin—and to such a supper for hungry men! There were pickled salmon, cold ham, cold chicken, an excellent salad, light bread Stilton cheese, pastry, fruits native and tropical, and such fine wines as can only be procured—or could _then_ only be procured, duty free, at the Channel Isles. They made an excellent meal and then returned to the deck and sat down to enjoy the lovely night and the pure sea-breezes, until twelve midnight, when feeling a little tired, they went down into the cabin and turned in. Rocked by the motion of the vessel they fell asleep, and slept soundly until the “Flying Foam” entered the harbor of St. Aubins. Then they were awakened by the captain’s steward, who came down to tell them the yacht was in port. The sun was just rising. The pretty little maritime town lay gleaming in the earliest beams of the morning. Behind it arose the dark background of Noirmont Heights. On the right and left, rolled a richly-wooded landscape of hill and dell. Even the gravity of the errand upon which they had come could not quite make our friends insensible to the novelty and beauty of the scene. “Will you choose to have breakfast before you go on shore?” inquired the master, coming to the side of the two gentlemen, as they stood on deck looking out upon the harbor, with its little shipping, and the town, with its quaint Anglo-French streets and houses, while they waited for the boat to be got ready.