The afternoon of the same day. Yves is in my room, busy putting his
stripes on his sleeves, in haste to finish before darkness falls,
looking comical as always, with his big air of sea-rover, when he is
engaged in sewing.
They are not very elegant, his poor clothes; they show signs of hard
wear. For he was not rich when he left Brest with his reduced pay; and,
so as not to break into his allowance, he had refrained from drawing too
many things from the store. But they are so clean, the little woollen
stripes are so neatly placed one above the other, on each forearm and on
the bottom of each sleeve, that he will pass muster very well. These new
stripes give them even a certain lustre of youth. Besides, Yves looks
well in anything; and then, too, one wears very little clothing on
board, and as he will put them on but rarely, they will certainly serve
him until the end of the voyage. As for money, Yves has none; he has
forgotten even the use and value of it, as often happens to sailors--for
he allots to his wife, at Brest, his pay and his stripe-money, all that
he earns.
By the time it is dark, his work is finished. He carefully folds his
coat and then sweeps away the little ends of thread which he has let
fall on the floor. Then he informs himself very exactly of the month and
the date, lights a candle, and begins to write.
"AT SEA, ON BOARD THE _Primauguet_,
"23_rd April_, 1882.
"MY DEAR WIFE,--I am writing these few words in advance to-day in M.
Pierre's room. I will post them next month when we touch at the Hawaii
Islands (a country . . . but I don't suppose you will know where it is).
"I want to tell you that I have recovered my stripes to-day and that you
may set your mind at rest, I shall not lose them again; I have sewn them
on _very tight_ this time.
"Dear wife, this reminds me that it is only six months since we parted,
and that it will be a long time yet before we see each other again. But
I assure you that I should dearly love to be back for a time at Toulven,
to give you a hand in getting our house ready; and yet, it is not simply
for that, you know, but above all, to spend some time with you, and to
see our little Pierre running about. They will have to give me a long
leave when we return, at least fifteen or twenty days; indeed I do not
think twenty will be enough and I shall ask for as many as thirty.
"Dear Marie, I can tell you, however, that I am very happy on board,
especially because I have been able to embark with M. Pierre. It is what
I had hoped for for a very long time. It has been a very fine voyage and
a very economical one for me who have need to save a lot of money as you
know. Perhaps I may get another promotion before we disembark, seeing
that I am on very good terms with all the officers.
"I have also to tell you that the flying fish . . ."
Crack! On deck someone whistles: "Aloft everyone!" Yves hurries away;
and no one has ever heard the end of the story of the flying fish.
He has preserved with his wife his childlike manner of being and
writing. With me, he is changed, he has become a new Yves, more complex,
more sophisticated than the Yves of old.