_September_, 1877.
The _Médée_ had been homeward bound for many a day.
Wind and current had favoured her. She sailed rapidly, so rapidly, for
days and nights on end, that one lost the notion of places and
distances. Vaguely we had seen pass the Straits of Malacca, taken in our
course; the Red Sea, ascended under steam in a blaze of sunlight; then
the point of Sicily, and at last the great couchant lion of Gibraltar.
Now we are watching the horizon and the first land, which may appear at
any moment, will be the land of Brittany.
I had joined the _Médée_ only during the latter part of the voyage
and, this time, my tour with Yves will have lasted less than five
months.
Amid the grey expanse little white lines now appear; then a tower with
dark little islets scattered about: all this still very distant and
scarcely visible in the dull wan daylight which envelopes us.
We might imagine without any trouble that we were still at the other
side of the world, in that extreme Asia which we have lately left; for
things on board have not changed, nor faces either. We are still
encumbered with Chinese knick-knacks; we continue to eat fruits gathered
on the other side and still green; we carry with us odours, savours of
China.
But no; our house has been translated very quickly; this tower and these
islets are the Pierres-Noires; Brest is there, quite near us, and before
night we shall have anchored there.
Always an emotion of remembrance, when this great roadstead of Brest
appears, imposing and solemn, and these great sailing ships which one
rarely sees elsewhere. All my first impressions of the navy, all my
first impressions of Brittany--and then, too, it is France.
There is the _Borda_ beyond; as I look at it, I can see again in my
mind's eye the desk over which I have pored in long hours of study; and
the blackboard on which I wrote feverishly, before the examination, the
complicated formulæ of mechanics and astronomy.
Yves at that time was a small boy with a very serious and thoughtful
air, a little round-faced Breton apprentice, who dwelt in the near-lying
ship, the _Bretagne_, the neighbour and companion of the _Borda._ We
were children then--to-day we are grown men--to-morrow . . . old
age--the day after, death.