to each other, and said how charming the islands were, in
their gray-green insubstantiality, with valleys furrowing them far
inward, like airy clefts in low banks of clouds. It seemed all the
nicer not to know just which was which; but when the ship drew nearer to
Cherbourg, he suggested that they could see better by going round to the
other side of the ship. Miss Triscoe, as at the other times when she had
gone off with Burnamy, marked her allegiance, to Mrs. March by leaving a
wrap with her.

Every one was restless in breaking with the old life at sea. There had
been an equal unrest when the ship first sailed; people had first come
aboard in the demoralization of severing their ties with home, and they
shrank from forming others. Then the charm of the idle, eventless life
grew upon them, and united them in a fond reluctance from the inevitable
end.

Now that the beginning of the end had come, the pangs of disintegration
were felt in all the once-more-repellant particles. Burnamy and Miss
Triscoe, as they hung upon the rail, owned to each other that they hated
to have the voyage over. They had liked leaving Plymouth and being
at sea again; they wished that they need not be reminded of another
debarkation by the energy of the crane in hoisting the Cherbourg baggage
from the hold.

They approved of the picturesqueness of three French vessels of war that
passed, dragging their kraken shapes low through the level water.
At Cherbourg an emotional French tender came out to the ship, very
different in her clamorous voices and excited figures from the steady
self-control of the English tender at Plymouth; and they thought the
French fortifications much more on show than the English had been.
Nothing marked their youthful date so much to the Marches, who presently
joined them, as their failure to realize that in this peaceful sea the
great battle between the Kearsarge and the Alabama was fought. The elder
couple tried to affect their imaginations with the fact which reanimated
the spectre of a dreadful war for themselves; but they had to pass on
and, leave the young people unmoved.

Mrs. March wondered if they noticed the debarkation of the pivotal girl,
whom she saw standing on the deck of the tender, with her hands at her
waist, and giving now this side and now that side of her face to the
young men waving their hats to her from the rail of the ship. Burnamy
was not of their number, and he seemed not to know that the girl