It seems odd to us to find ourselves performing the formal duties of
citizens in the way of the world in general. At the Mairie, and at the
parish priest's house, we feel very awkward and at moments are hard put
to it not to laugh.
The little sea-gull is definitely registered in the records of Toulven
under the Christian names of Yves-Pierre--his father's name and mine, in
accordance with the custom of the country. And it is arranged with the
priest that he will await us at nine o'clock to-morrow morning, at the
church, and that there shall be a _Te Deum._
"And now let us go straight home," says Yves. "The old man is probably
in already and they will be waiting supper for us."