... to their mouths to make him understand, but he always returned the same answer, 'O nonononono, nononono,' so they were obliged to leave him. Only a few people went in the boats. We laid down on the deck, with our head on a basket and a coat over us. The deck was covered with people lying in a heap like pigs. It was so disagreeable, that when I heard that we could not get in till six or seven o'clock, I thought that I would almost sooner go in the next boat than stay where I was. Soon after, Euphemia told me that the next boat was come, but we did not go in that either. Soon after, almost everybody went down to the cabin, except Carruthers, the affected lady, and me. The old man again began to be troublesome: he wanted to get to a chair at the opposite side of the cabin, and all at once down he got on his hands and knees, and began to crawl over the ladies, who called out, 'O! O dear! he will crush us.' He then wanted to go to bed, and kept poking about: he came to Euphemia's bed, and said, 'I'll get in here. Why mayn't I get in here?' and he stood upon a chair, and peeped into the bed. One of the ladies called out, 'There's a child in that bed.' 'Nononono-no,' said he, and there he stood. Euphemia prepared herself to jump out of bed if he got in, but after looking a little while he went away. Every time she spoke to Catherine he held up two of his fingers, and said, 'That won't do, that won't do.' The affected lady had laid her head on our knees, and she was never still for a moment. She kept continually asking how long it would be before we got in; it was very foggy, and the sailors had lost sight of the fort, so this lady thought she would direct them. 'Oh!'said she, 'I wish I could look up; I've got such famous eyes,' and then she sat up. 'Oh yes, I can see it.' One of the sailors tried to persuade her that one might fancy anything in a fog, but she still wanted to direct them. 'I'm sure,' said she, 'I see the fort. It would be much better if you were to go into the harbour.' They at last said they thought we should not get in all night.[3] Whenever they moved the helm, the lady screamed out that it would crush her. I felt very stupid and sleepy, and in a short time I fell asleep. When they were going in to Calais we went into the cabin; they took me down half asleep, and when I awoke I could hardly tell where I was; it looked like a burial-ground; the floor was covered with people and basons, and it was almost dark; in a little while we heard that we were going into the harbour, to our great joy; I thought I would sooner stay all my life in France than cross the sea again. We reached Calais a little after eight; every person got up and groped about: a gentleman said it was like a resurrection. One of Mr. Wilkinson's little girls, about three or four years old, said, 'Papa, must my kisses and cakes go to the custom-house?' When Euphemia[4] was getting up she said, 'I think we all look like wild beasts in our dens'; one of the plaid