Pierre and Jean | Page 6

chilled, suddenly doubting her true vocation.
However, he said:
"At what hour can you be ready?"
"Well--at nine?"
"Not before?"
"No, not before. Even that is very early."
The old fellow hesitated; he certainly would catch nothing, for when
the sun has warmed the sea the fish bite no more; but the two brothers
had eagerly pressed the scheme, and organized and arranged everything
there and then.
So on the following Tuesday the Pearl had dropped anchor under the
white rocks of Cape la Heve; they had fished till midday, then they had
slept awhile, and then fished again without catching anything; and then
it was that father Roland, perceiving, rather late, that all that Mme.
Rosemilly really enjoyed and cared for was the sail on the sea, and
seeing that his lines hung motionless, had uttered in a spirit of
unreasonable annoyance, that vehement "Tschah!" which applied as
much to the pathetic widow as to the creatures he could not catch.
Now he contemplated the spoil--his fish--with the joyful thrill of a
miser; seeing as he looked up at the sky that the sun was getting low:
"Well, boys," said he, "suppose we turn homeward."
The young men hauled in their lines, coiled them up, cleaned the hooks
and stuck them into corks, and sat waiting.
Roland stood up to look out like a captain.
"No wind," said he. "You will have to pull, young 'uns."
And suddenly extending one arm to the northward, he exclaimed:

"Here comes the packet from Southampton."
Away over the level sea, spread out like a blue sheet, vast and sheeny
and shot with flame and gold, an inky cloud was visible against the
rosy sky in the quarter to which he pointed, and below it they could
make out the hull of the steamer, which looked tiny at such a distance.
And to southward other wreaths of smoke, numbers of them, could be
seen, all converging towards the Havre pier, now scarcely visible as a
white streak with the lighthouse, upright, like a horn, at the end of it.
Roland asked: "Is not the Normandie due to-day?" And Jean replied:
"Yes, to-day."
"Give me my glass. I fancy I see her out there."
The father pulled out the copper tube, adjusted it to his eye, sought the
speck, and then, delighted to have seen it, exclaimed:
"Yes, yes, there she is. I know her two funnels. Would you like to look,
Mme. Rosemilly?"
She took the telescope and directed it towards the Atlantic horizon,
without being able, however, to find the vessel, for she could
distinguish nothing--nothing but blue, with a coloured halo round it, a
circular rainbow--and then all manner of queer things, winking eclipses
which made her feel sick.
She said as she returned the glass:
"I never could see with that thing. It used to put my husband in quite a
rage; he would stand for hours at the windows watching the ships
pass."
Old Roland, much put out, retorted:
"Then it must be some defect in your eye, for my glass is a very good
one."

Then he offered it to his wife.
"Would you like to look?"
"No, thank you. I know before hand that I could not see through it."
Mme. Roland, a woman of eight-and-forty but who did not look it,
seemed to be enjoying this excursion and this waning day more than
any of the party.
Her chestnut hair was only just beginning to show streaks of white. She
had a calm, reasonable face, a kind and happy way with her which it
was a pleasure to see. Her son Pierre was wont to say that she knew the
value of money, but this did not hinder her from enjoying the delights
of dreaming. She was fond of reading, of novels, and poetry, not for
their value as works of art, but for the sake of the tender melancholy
mood they would induce in her. A line of poetry, often but a poor one,
often a bad one, would touch the little chord, as she expressed it, and
give her the sense of some mysterious desire almost realized. And she
delighted in these faint emotions which brought a little flutter to her
soul, otherwise as strictly kept as a ledger.
Since settling at Havre she had become perceptibly stouter, and her
figure, which had been very supple and slight, had grown heavier.
This day on the sea had been delightful to her. Her husband, without
being brutal, was rough with her, as a man who is the despot of his
shop is apt to be rough, without anger or hatred; to such men to give an
order is to swear. He controlled himself in the presence of strangers,
but in private he let loose and gave himself