Pierre and Jean | Page 7

terrible vent, though he was
himself afraid of every one. She, in sheer horror of the turmoil, of
scenes, of useless explanations, always gave way and never asked for
anything; for a very long time she had not ventured to ask Roland to
take her out in the boat. So she had joyfully hailed this opportunity, and
was keenly enjoying the rare and new pleasure.
From the moment when they started she surrendered herself completely,
body and soul, to the soft, gliding motion over the waves. She was not

thinking; her mind was not wandering through either memories or
hopes; it seemed to her as though her heart, like her body, was floating
on something soft and liquid and delicious which rocked and lulled it.
When their father gave the word to return, "Come, take your places at
the oars!" she smiled to see her sons, her two great boys, take off their
jackets and roll up their shirt-sleeves on their bare arms.
Pierre, who was nearest to the two women, took the stroke oar, Jean the
other, and they sat waiting till the skipper should say: "Give way!" For
he insisted on everything being done according to strict rule.
Simultaneously, as if by a single effort, they dipped the oars, and lying
back, pulling with all their might, began a struggle to display their
strength. They had come out easily, under sail, but the breeze had died
away, and the masculine pride of the two brothers was suddenly
aroused by the prospect of measuring their powers. When they went out
alone with their father they plied the oars without any steering, for
Roland would be busy getting the lines ready, while he kept a lookout
in the boat's course, guiding it by a sign or a word: "Easy, Jean, and
you, Pierre, put your back into it." Or he would say, "Now, then,
number one; come, number two--a little elbow grease." Then the one
who had been dreaming pulled harder, the one who had got excited
eased down, and the boat's head came round.
But to-day they meant to display their biceps. Pierre's arms were hairy,
somewhat lean but sinewy; Jean's were round and white and rosy, and
the knot of muscles moved under the skin.
At first Pierre had the advantage. With his teeth set, his brow knit, his
legs rigid, his hands clinched on the oar, he made it bend from end to
end at every stroke, and the Pearl was veering landward. Father Roland,
sitting in the bows, so as to leave the stern seat to the two women,
wasted his breath shouting, "Easy, number one; pull harder, number
two!" Pierre pulled harder in his frenzy, and "number two" could not
keep time with his wild stroke.
At last the skipper cried: "Stop her!" The two oars were lifted

simultaneously, and then by his father's orders Jean pulled alone for a
few minutes. But from that moment he had it all his own way; he grew
eager and warmed to his work, while Pierre, out of breath and
exhausted by his first vigorous spurt, was lax and panting. Four times
running father Roland made them stop while the elder took breath, so
as to get the boat into her right course again. Then the doctor,
humiliated and fuming, his forehead dropping with sweat, his cheeks
white, stammered out:
"I cannot think what has come over me; I have a stitch in my side. I
started very well, but it has pulled me up."
Jean asked: "Shall I pull alone with both oars for a time?"
"No, thanks, it will go off."
And their mother, somewhat vexed, said:
"Why, Pierre, what rhyme or reason is there in getting into such a state.
You are not a child."
And he shrugged his shoulders and set to once more.
Mme. Rosemilly pretended not to see, not to understand, not to hear.
Her fair head went back with an engaging little jerk every time the boat
moved forward, making the fine wayward hairs flutter about her
temples.
But father Roland presently called out:
"Look, the Prince Albert is catching us up!"
They all looked round. Long and low in the water, with her two raking
funnels and two yellow paddle-boxes like two round cheeks, the
Southampton packet came ploughing on at full steam, crowded with
passengers under open parasols. Its hurrying, noisy paddle-wheels
beating up the water which fell again in foam, gave it an appearance of
haste as of a courier pressed for time, and the upright stem cut through

the water, throwing up two thin translucent waves which glided off
along the hull.
When it had come quite near the Pearl, father Roland lifted his hat, the
ladies shook their handkerchiefs, and half a dozen parasols eagerly
waved on board the