"Little needst thou consider that, Dick," replied Geoffrey. "The river is not to be compared with the sea. Here we shall not be troubled by rough waves."
"Be not so sure about it," remarked Gripwell, with a roguish twinkle in his eye.
"How so?"
"Thou'lt know ere long," replied the man-at-arms shortly.
Next morning at high-water the Grâce à Dieu warped out into the river on her return voyage, while the Brothers, compelled to wait for cargo until the return of the English merchants from Rouen, was left in the charge of her shipmaster and crew.
Just before low tide a "bac" or ferry-boat manned by a crew of Normans came alongside the Brothers. This was the craft in which Geoffrey and his comrades were to make their sixty-mile voyage to the capital of Normandy.
The boat was about thirty feet in length, broad of beam, and shallow draught. With the exception of a small deck for'ard and a slightly longer one aft, under which a low-roofed cabin provided cramped quarters at night or in wet weather, the boat was open. Broad thwarts or benches for the rowers occupied the space amidships, for oars were used except on rare occasions when the wind was astern, and a square sail could be set with advantage.
At the second hour of the flood the bac left Harfleur, and under the steady, powerful strokes of the rowers, made good progress.
Geoffrey could not help noticing the apparently erratic manner in which the bearded helmsman steered, frequently turning the boat in diverse way, although the general direction was up stream.
"'Tis well he doth so," said Gripwell in answer to the lad's question. "Were it not for his skill we should be hard aground on one of the many sandbanks that lie hereabout."