ap of things to take with you. I have ordered your
under-linen, and I went into the tailor's shop about cloth clothes; but
is there nothing else you need--things which I, perhaps, know nothing
about?"

His lips parted to say, "No, nothing." But he reflected that he must
accept the means of getting a decent outfit, and he replied in a very
calm voice: "I hardly know myself, yet. I will make inquiries at the
office."

He inquired, and they gave him a list of indispensable necessaries. His
mother, as she took it from his hand, looked up at him for the first
time for very long, and in the depths of her eyes there was the humble
expression, gentle, sad, and beseeching, of a dog that has been beaten
and begs forgiveness.

On the 1st of October the Lorraine from Saint-Nazaire, came into the
harbour of Havre to sail on the 7th, bound for New York, and Pierre
Roland was to take possession of the little floating cabin in which
henceforth his life was to be confined.

Next day as he was going out, he met his mother on the stairs waiting
for him, to murmur in an almost inaudible voice:

"You would not like me to help you to put things to rights on board?"

"No, thank you. Everything is done."

Then she said:

"I should have liked to see your cabin."

"There is nothing to see. It is very small and very ugly."

And he went downstairs, leaving her stricken, leaning against the wall
with a wan face.

Now Roland, who had gone over the Lorraine that very day, could talk of
nothing all dinnertime but this splendid vessel, and wondered that his
wife should not care to see it as their son was to sail on board.

Pierre had scarcely any intercourse with his family during the days
which followed. He was nervous, irritable, hard, and his rough speech
seemed to lash every one indiscriminately. But the day before he left
he was suddenly quite changed, and much softened. As he embraced his
parents before going to sleep on board for the first time he said:

"You will come to say good-bye to me on board, will you not?"

Roland exclaimed:

"Why, yes, of course--of course, Louise?"

"Certainly, certainly," she said in a low voice.

Pierre went on: "We sail at eleven precisely. You must be there by
half-past nine at the latest."

"Hah!" cried his father. "A good idea! As soon as we have bid you
good-bye, we will make haste on board the Pearl, and look out for you
beyond the jetty, so as to see you once more. What do you say, Loui