I was aware that I had accepted a heavy responsibility in adopting this
refractory brother, the more so because I took my oath very seriously.
But fate separated us on the second day following, and soon we were half
the world apart.
Yves set sail for the Atlantic, and I left for the Levant, for Stamboul.
It was not until fifteen months later, in May, 1877, that we met again
on board the _Médée_, which was cruising between India and China.