"I do not know yet exactly. We will make it fit in with one of your return voyages."
At last they were all out of the cabin, and up on deck among the crowd of visitors, porters, and sailors. The steam was snorting in the huge belly of the vessel, which seemed to quiver with impatience.
"Good-bye," said Roland in a great bustle.
"Good-bye," replied Pierre, standing on one of the landing-planks lying between the deck of the Lorraine and the quay. He shook hands all round once more, and they were gone.
"Make haste, jump into the carriage," cried the father.
A fly was waiting for them and took them to the outer harbour, where Papagris had the Pearl in readiness to put out to sea.
There was not a breath of air; it was one of those crisp, still autumn days, when the sheeny sea looks as cold and hard as polished steel.
Jean took one oar, the sailor seized the other and they pulled off. On the breakwater, on the piers, even on the granite parapets, a crowd stood packed, hustling, and noisy, to see the Lorraine come out. The Pearl glided down between these two waves of humanity and was soon outside the mole.
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