CHAPTER XXXVI

It was about six weeks after the _Médée_ had been laid up at Brest and I had separated from Yves, when one day, at Athens, I think, I received this surprising letter:

"BREST, _15th September_, 1877.

"MY DEAR BROTHER,--I write you these few words, in haste to let you know that I got married yesterday. And, you may be sure, I would have asked your advice in advance, but, you must understand, I had no time to lose having been named to join the _Cornélie_, and having only eight days before me to spend with my wife.

"I think that you will find, you also, my dear brother, that this is better than being always moving about, as you know, from one ship to another. My wife's name is Marie Keremenen; I may tell you I am very proud of her and think we shall get on very well together if only I can settle down.

"I will write you a longer letter before I leave, my dear brother, and I can assure you I am very sad at the idea of embarking without you.

"I end by embracing you with all my heart.

"Your loving brother,

"YVES KERMADEC.

"P.S.--I have just learnt that my destination is altered; I am embarking on the _Ariane_ which does not leave until the middle of November. That gives me nearly two months to spend with my wife. We shall have good time in which to get to know one another, and you may be sure I am very pleased."

On their return from their voyages, sailors are wont to do all sorts of stupid things with their money; it is a thing excused by tradition. And seaport towns have reason to know their rather wild eccentricities.

Sometimes, even, they marry, by way of pastime, the first woman that offers in order to have an occasion for donning a black coat.

And Yves, who had already in times past exhausted all kinds of foolishness, he, too, for a change, had finished by marrying.

Yves married! And to whom in heaven's name? Perhaps some shameless hussy of the town, picked up by chance in an hour when he was tipsy!

I had good reason to be uneasy, remembering a certain creature in a feathered hat whom he had been on the point of marrying for a lark--when he was twenty--in this same town of Brest.