The prospect of his departure filled Félicité with despair, and in
order to bid him farewell, on Wednesday night, after Madame's
dinner, she put on her pattens and trudged the four miles that
separated Pont-l'Evêque from Honfleur.

When she reached the Calvary, instead of turning to the right, she
turned to the left and lost herself in coal-yards; she had to
retrace her steps; some people she spoke to advised her to hasten.
She walked helplessly around the harbour filled with vessels, and
knocked against hawsers. Presently the ground sloped abruptly,
lights flittered to and fro, and she thought all at once that she
had gone mad when she saw some horses in the sky.

Others, on the edge of the dock, neighed at the sight of the
ocean. A derrick pulled them up in the air and dumped them into a
boat, where passengers were bustling about among barrels of cider,
baskets of cheese and bags of meal; chickens cackled, the captain
swore and a cabin-boy rested on the railing, apparently
indifferent to his surroundings. Félicité, who did not recognise
him, kept shouting: "Victor!" He suddenly raised his eyes, but
while she was preparing to rush up to him, they withdrew the
gangplank.

The packet, towed by singing women, glided out of the harbour. Her
hull squeaked and the heavy waves beat up against her sides. The
sail had turned and nobody was visible;--and on the ocean,
silvered by the light of the moon, the vessel formed a black spot
that grew dimmer and dimmer, and finally disappeared.

When Félicité passed the Calvary again, she felt as if she must