Honfleur.

When she reached the Calvary, instead of turning to the right, she
turned to the left and lost herself in coal-yards; she had to retrace
her steps; some people she spoke to advised her to hasten. She walked
helplessly around the harbour filled with vessels, and knocked against
hawsers. Presently the ground sloped abruptly, lights flitted to and
fro, and she thought all at once that she had gone mad when she saw some
horses in the sky.

Others, on the edge of the dock, neighed at the sight of the ocean. A
derrick pulled them up in the air, and dumped them into a boat, where
passengers were bustling about among barrels of cider, baskets of cheese
and bags of meal; chickens cackled, the captain swore and a cabin-boy
rested on the railing, apparently indifferent to his surroundings.
Felicite, who did not recognise him, kept shouting: "Victor!" He
suddenly raised his eyes, but while she was preparing to rush up to him,
they withdrew the gangplank.

The packet, towed by singing women, glided out of the harbour. Her hull
squeaked and the heavy waves beat up against her sides. The sail had
turned and nobody was visible;--and on the ocean, silvered by the light
of the moon, the vessel formed a black spot that grew dimmer and dimmer,
and finally disappeared.

When Felicite passed the Calvary again, she felt as if she must entrust
that which was dearest to her to the Lord; and for a long while she
prayed, with uplifted eyes and a face wet with tears. The city was
sleeping; some customs officials were taking the air; and the water kept
pouring through the holes of the dam with a deafening roar. The town
clock struck two.

The parlour of the convent would not open until morning, and surely a
delay would annoy Madame, so, in spite of her desire to see the other
child, she went home. The maids of the inn were just arising when she
reached Pont-l'Eveque.

So the poor boy would be on the ocean for months! His previous trips
had not alarmed her. One can come back from England and Brittany; but
America, the colonies, the islands, were all lost in an uncertain region
at the very end of the world.

From that time on, Felicite thought solely of her nephew. On warm days
she feared he would suffer from thirst, and when it stormed, she was
afraid he would be struck by lightning. When she harkened to the wind
that rattled in the chimney and dislodged the tiles on the roof, she
imagined that he was being buffeted by the same s