Jean in a low tone said to his mother: "Look, mother, she is close upon us!" And Mme. Roland uncovered her eyes, blinded by tears.
The Lorraine came on, still under the impetus of her swift exit from the harbor, in the brilliant, calm weather. Beausire, with his glass to his eye, called out:
"Look out! M. Pierre is at the stern, all alone, plainly to be seen! Look out!"
The ship was almost touching the Pearl now, as tall as a mountain and as swift as a train. Mme. Roland, distraught and desperate, held out her arms toward it; and she saw her son, her Pierre, with his officer's cap on, throwing kisses to her with both hands.
But he was going away, flying, vanishing, a tiny speck already, no more than an imperceptible spot on the enormous vessel. She tried still to distinguish him, but she could not.
Jean took her hand:
"You saw?" he said.
"Yes, I saw. How good he is!"
And they turned to go home.
"Cristi! How fast she goes!" exclaimed Roland with enthusiastic conviction.