Down swooped the great cog into the narrow channel which was the portal to safety.

On either bow roared the shallow bar.

Right ahead one small lane of black swirling water marked the pilot's course.

But true was the eye and firm the hand which guided.

A dull scraping came from beneath, the vessel quivered and shook, at the waist, at the quarter, and behind sounded that grim roaring of the waters, and with a plunge the yellow cog was over the bar and speeding swiftly up the broad and tranquil estuary of the Gironde..