“There will be none tomorrow, if this sea mist comes down,” said Wolfe, with a little grim smile, as he entered the boat again.  “Row me to the harbour’s mouth; I would take a look for myself at the position of the vessels.”

The sun was shining brilliantly upon land, but over the sea there was a little haze, which seemed disposed to increase.  It had been so for two or three days, the fog coming thicker at night.  Wolfe looked keenly about him as he reached the mouth of the harbour.  He did not attempt to enter it, but sat looking before him with intent, critical gaze.

“I see,” he remarked, after a pause.  “Now row me once more to the flagship, and so back.  The thing can be done.”

Promptitude was one of Wolfe’s characteristics; he never let grass grow under his feet.  If the thing was to be done, let it be done at once; and the British tar is never a laggard when there is fighting or adventure to be had!

Julian and Humphrey volunteered for the service.  Humphrey was a favourite with the sailors, having been employed almost constantly in carrying messages to and from the fleet, or in helping to land transports.  He was as expert now in the management of a boat as the best of the jack tars, and was eager to take part in the daring enterprise which was to be carried out that night.

Six hundred sailors, collected from different vessels, were to be told off for the task.  They set to work with hearty goodwill, muffling their oars, and preparing for their noiseless advance into the harbour.  The guns would roar ceaselessly overhead.  That would do much to drown any sound from the water.  Still, care and caution would have to be exercised; for the batteries of the fortress commanded the harbour, and the ships lay beneath their protecting guns.  If the little flotilla betrayed its approach by any unguarded sound, it might easily be annihilated before ever it could approach its goal.  So that the task set the hardy sailors was not without its distinct element of peril, which was perhaps its chiefest attraction.

The shades of night gathered slowly over land and sea.  It seemed to Humphrey and some of those waiting in the boats as though night had never fallen so slowly before.  But their eyes were gladdened by the sight of the soft fog wreaths which crept over the water as the dusk fell, lying upon it like a soft blanket, and blotting out the distance as much as the darkness could do.

It was not a heavy fog.  The sailors were in no danger of losing their way as they rowed, first for the harbour mouth, and then for the two French warships at anchor beneath the batteries.  But it was thick enough to hide their approach from those on land.  It was not probable that even the crews of the vessels would be aware of their close proximity till the word to board was given.  Unless some accidental and unguarded sound betrayed their advance, they might in all likelihood carry all before them by a surprise movement.