"The white ribbon must not be discarded," protested Paul, glancing at Grace.
"Certainly not; but we will have a gold anchor, say, from which the ribbon shall be suspended," added Shuffles. "On the anchor shall be engraved the single word Faithful."
"And 'Vous ne pouvez pas faire,' &c.," laughed Paul. "I think we must ask the Grand Protectress for a suitable emblem."
"You have great confidence in me, and I will give the subject faithful consideration," said Grace.
"Our motto is an excellent one, I think," continued Paul. "To us it will always mean that you cannot redress a wrong by resorting to dishonorable measures."
The conversation was interrupted by the call to breakfast. Before the meal was finished, the steamer that was to convey the party on shore came alongside. By the time she had made fast, and run out her planks, the boatswain piped, "All hands, on deck with bags, to go ashore." The stewards conveyed the baggage of the Arbuckles on board, and the ship's company marched in single file to the deck of the steamer. There were no turbulent spirits among them, and everything was done in order. In due time the party reached the railroad station, and seated themselves in the special cars, which had been provided for their use.
The Arbuckles, Dr. Winstock, Paul, and Shuffles occupied one compartment of a carriage, and, as usual, the pleasant and well-informed surgeon of the ship, who had been a very extensive traveller, was a living encyclopædia for the party. The course of the train was through Brittany, of which Dr. Winstock had much to say. It is a poor country, not unlike Scotland, though it has no high mountains. The lower order of the people wear quaint costumes, and have hardly changed their manners and customs for three hundred years.
"Do you see that building in the churchyard?" said the doctor, as he pointed out the window.
"What is it—the hearse-house?" asked Paul.
"No; I think they don't use hearses much here. It is a bone-house."