"Jean-Marie, go as quickly as you can and tell Yves that I am waiting for him on shore, on the quay."
This was ten minutes later. It was clearly necessary that we should meet—after having written one another thus—in order to make the reconciliation complete.
When Yves arrived, his face had changed and he was smiling as I had not seen him smile for many a long day. I took his hand, his poor topman's hand, in mine; it was necessary to squeeze it very hard to make it feel the pressure, for work had greatly hardened it.
"But why did you do that? It wasn't kind, you know."
And this was all he found to say to me by way of reproach.
The guard at night on the Sèvre was not very strict.
"Look here, Yves, we are going to spend this first night of the New Year on shore, in Brest, and you are going to have dinner with me, as my guest. That is a thing we have never done and it will be fun. Quickly, go and brush your clothes (for he had got very dirty in irons in the hold), and let us go."
"Oh! but we must be quick, though. Let me rather brush myself when we get on shore. The gun will sound directly, and we shall not have time to get out."
We were in a remote part of the docks, very far from the gates, and we started off at once almost running.
But, as luck would have it, when we were but half-way, the gun sounded and we were too late.