_Telegram_: "Toulon, 3rd April, 1883.--To Yves Kermadec, on board the
_Primauguet_, Brest. You have been appointed mate. All good wishes.
"PIERRE."
It was his joyous welcome, his home-coming feast, for, only twenty-four
hours before, the _Primauguet_, returned from its distant cruise in the
Pacific, had come to anchor in the waters of France.
And these golden stripes which I sent to Yves by telegraph, he did not
water them, as he had watered formerly his stripes of wool. No, times
had changed; he took refuge in the spar-deck, in the corner where his
sack and locker were, which he regarded as his little home; he hurried
down to this quiet spot in order that he might be alone to contemplate
this happiness which had come to him, to read and read again this
blessed little blue paper which had opened before him an entirely new
era.
It was so wonderful, so unexpected, after his past bad conduct!
I had been to Paris to ask this favour, intriguing hard for my adopted
brother, and making myself answerable for his future conduct. A woman
friend had been good enough to exert in my cause her very powerful
influence, and, with her help, the promotion of Yves was carried by
assault, difficult though it was.
And Yves could not cease from contemplating his good fortune in all its
aspects. . . . First, instead of asking for a short leave which might
perhaps have been given to him very grudgingly, now, with his gold
stripes he could depart straightway for Toulven; he would be put on the
reserve list for three months at least, perhaps for four; he would have
the whole summer to spend with his wife and son, in the little house
which was now completed, and where they were only waiting for him to
enter into occupation. . . . And secondly, they were quite rich, which
was by no means a drawback. . . .
Never in the life of this poor wandering toiler had there come an hour
so happy, a joy so deep as that which his brother Pierre had just sent
him by telegraph. . . .