As it was only a distance of thirty-five kilometres, or, roughly, 23 miles, Mr. Armitage decided to bring up on moorings off Duclair until the tide changed. This would enable the crew to make up arrears of sleep, or, at any rate, go a long way towards doing so, while, with the favourable tide, the boat ought to arrive at Rouen early in the afternoon.
The Scoutmaster was dubious as to what would happen when the Olivette did arrive there. It looked as if the cruise would have to terminate abruptly, while to repair the damage would probably eat up the whole of the Troop's finances.
He said nothing of this to the lads under his care.
He was content to let events shape their course, and not to meet trouble half-way. The youngsters were enjoying themselves, and he would not place their pleasures under a cloud by as much as hinting that the cruise of the Olivette would be drastically curtailed.
It was a picturesque stretch of the river that confronted the Sea Scouts when the voyage was resumed. The Seine made a huge U-shaped bend, almost encircling the Forest of Roumare on the port hand, and skirting the Forests of Mauny and du Rouvray to starboard. On either bank were numerous villages, while occasionally small islands were passed.
The Olivette was abreast of the Obelisk at Le Val de la Haye, when her crew noticed a weird sort of craft approaching at tremendous speed. At first the Sea Scouts could not make head or tail of it. There was hardly anything to be seen but a triangular girder appearing above the apex of a double crest of spray, but the noise the quaint craft made was terrific.
"It's driven by an aerial propeller," declared Peter. "I can see the glint on the blades as they revolve."
Approaching at a rate of about forty-five miles an hour, the vessel passed the Olivette "like a streak of greased lightning". That was Hepburn's definition.
As she passed, the Sea Scouts saw that she was a hydro-glisseur, her hull composed of three rectangular floats in line ahead and supporting an aluminium cabin. Right aft was the motor with a triple chain-driven air propeller. In the bows a tiny Tricolour stood out stiffly in the breeze. Her crew consisted of two people—one, a bareheaded mechanic, wearing a blue overall, the other, a youngish man, the outstanding features of his costume being a velour Alpine hat, with a tuft of feathers, and a pair of light-yellow kid gloves.
Noticing the Red Ensign flying on board the Olivette, the Frenchman took off his hat and made an elaborate bow. Not to be outdone in politeness, the Scoutmaster gave the order, "Alert!" and while the crew stood to attention he saluted the owner of the glisseur in scout fashion.