ecruit had joined, who belonged to his town, and informed him
that the family had moved away on the other side of the ocean, to St.
Pierre-Miquelon. So Yves had written, but still no letters came. But one
day it chanced that the cruiser was sent up there, to keep an eye on the
fisheries, and he was in a fever of waiting until they should arrive. On
the first day that he obtained shore leave he had wandered up and down
the little streets, and looked at names over _cafes_ and shops, and asked
questions of all who would listen to him. No one knew anything of
Jeanne-Marie Kermadec. At last one man remembered that a family of that
name had remained less than a year and had gone back to France.

Then he had wandered off again, and from the cafes comrades of his called
to him to join them, but he strolled on, and suddenly he had seen a
hollow-eyed woman enter a drinking-shop, and on her arm she bore a baby.
So of course he had followed her, feeling as if he had been very drunk.
But he had not had a drop. She had gone to a bleary man who sat at a
little table, with others, and tried to make him come out with her. But
the man swore at her, and the woman left, crying, and Yves had followed
her out into the street, and when he spoke she knew him, and cried
harder. So he had gone as far as her house, and then she wept on his
shoulder. Her people had gone away but she had remained, for her love had
gone out to this man and the Virgin on the hill was very far away. At
first she had been very happy, but now Yves could see what was happening,
and the baby was very hungry, for there was no bread in the house.

Then Yves had emptied his pocket on the table and gone away, very
unsteadily, and some of the men on his ship laughed at him. But perhaps
he was looking dangerous, because after he had glared at them once they
left him alone.

After this he had met Jeanne-Marie several times, but his ship soon left
on a trip to some places in Canada. In one of these there was a great
coal mine near the sea, and in another town perched queerly on a rock
they had anchored in the _Saint Laurent_. Yes, perhaps it was Quebec;
he knew the people spoke French there. Then after a time the cruiser had
returned to St. Pierre. He thought it might be better not to go back to
that house, but he found that he could not keep away.

It was some illness he did not know that killed her. Yes, he had been
there when she died, and had paid money to a doctor and to t