The next evening, at about ten o'clock, they walked boldly through Dinan. Most of the inhabitants were already asleep, and the few who were still in the streets paid no heed to two sailors; going, they had no doubt, to Saint Malo. Crossing the river Rance by the bridge, they took the road in the direction of the port but, after following it for a mile or two, struck off to the east and, before morning, arrived on the river running up from the bay of Mount Saint Michaels. They lay down until late in the afternoon, and then crossed the river at a ferry, and kept along by the coast until they reached the Sebine river.
"We are getting on first rate," Ryan said, as they lay down for a few hours' sleep. "We have only got Avranches to pass, now."
"I hope we sha'n't be questioned at all, Dick, for we have now no good story to tell them; for we are going away from Saint Malo, instead of to it. Of course, as long as they don't question us we are all right. We are simply two sailors on our way home for a time; but if we have to show our papers, with those Spanish names on them, we should be in a fix. Of course, we might have run away from our ship at Saint Malo, but that would not explain our coming up this way. However, I hope my French is good enough to answer any casual questions without exciting attention. We will cross by the ferry boat, as soon as it begins to ply and, as Avranches stands some little distance up the river, we can avoid it altogether by keeping along the coastline."
A score of peasants had assembled by the time the ferry boat man made his appearance from his cottage, and Terence and his companion, who had been lying down 200 yards away, joined them just as they were going down to the boat.
"You are from Saint Malo, I suppose?" an old peasant said to Terence.
The latter nodded.
"We have got a month's leave from our ship," he said. "She has been knocked about by an English cruiser, and will be in the shipwright's hands for five or six weeks, before she is ready for sea again."
"You are not from this part of the country," the peasant, who was speaking in the patois of Normandy, remarked.
"No, we come from the south; but one of our comrades comes from Cherbourg and, as he cannot get away, we are going to see his friends and tell them that he is well. It is a holiday for us, and we may as well go there as anywhere else."
The explanation was simple enough for the peasant, and Terence continued chatting with him until they landed.
"You do not need to go through Avranches," the latter said. "Take the road by the coast through Granville to Coutances."
"How far is it to Coutances?"
"About twenty miles. At least, so I have heard, for I have never been there."
After walking a few miles, they went down on to the seashore and lay down among some rocks until evening. At eight o'clock they started again and walked boldly through Granville, where their sailor's dress would, they felt sure, attract no attention. It was about nine o'clock when they entered the place. Their reason for doing so at this hour was that they wished to lay in a stock of provisions, as they did not intend to enter Coutances until late at night; when they hoped to be able to get hold of a boat, at once. They had just made their purchases when they met a fat little man, with a red sashwhich showed him to be the Maire of the place, or some other public functionary.
"Where are you going, and what ship do you belong to?" he asked pompously.
"We are sailors on our way from Saint Malo to Cherbourg," Terence replied.
"You have papers, of course?"
"Of course, Monsieur le Maire."
"I must see them," the Maire said. "Come with me to my house, close by."
There were several persons near, and a man in civil uniform was with the Maire. Therefore Terence gave an apparently willing assent and, followed by the functionary, they went into a house close by. A lamp was burning on the table in the hall.
"Light these candles in my office," the Maire said. "The women have gone up to bed."
The man turned a key, went in and, bringing out two candles, lighted them at the lamp; and
they then went into the room. The Maire seated himself in an armchair at the table. The minor functionary placed the two suspected persons on the side facing him, and took his place standing by their side.
As they were going in, Terence whispered:
"If there is trouble, I will take this fellow, and you manage the Maire."
"Now," that functionary said, "let me see your papers.
"Why," he exclaimed, looking at the names, "you are not Frenchmen!"
"No," Terence said quietly. "We do not pretend to be but, as you see, we are sailors who have done service on board a French privateer."
"But where is this privateer?"
"I don't know, Monsieur le Maire. We were not satisfied with our treatment, so we left her at Brest."
"This is very serious," the Maire said. "You are Spaniards. You have deserted your ship at Brest. You have travelled a hundred and fifty miles through France, and now what are you doing here?"