"You must leave at once, Ma'me Honorine. The boats are ready . . . everybody's packing up. There'll be no one in the village by eleven o'clock."
Véronique interposed:
"Honorine's not in a condition to travel."
"Yes, I am; I'm better," the Breton woman declared.
"No, it would be ridiculous. Let us wait a day or two . . . . Come back in two days, Corréjou."
She pushed the sailor towards the door. He, for that matter, was only too anxious to go:
"Very well," he said, "that'll do: I'll come back the day after to–morrow. Besides, we can't take everything with us. We shall have to come back now and again to fetch our things . . . . Good–bye, Ma'me Honorine; take care of yourself."
And he ran outside.
"Corréjou! Corréjou!"
Honorine was sitting up in bed and calling to him in despair:
"N
