The sailor hastened with rapid steps to his house, which stood on the quay, whence could be seen the Northern Ocean, of which he seemed so proud. Jean Cornbutte had amassed a comfortable sum at his calling. After having long commanded the vessels of a rich shipowner of Havre, he had settled down in his native town, where he had caused the brig “Jeune-Hardie” to be constructed at his own expense. Several successful voyages had been made in the North, and the ship always found a good sale for its cargoes of wood, iron, and tar. Jean Cornbutte then gave up the command of her to his son Louis, a fine sailor of thirty, who, according to all the coasting captains, was the boldest mariner in Dunkirk. Louis Cornbutte had gone away deeply attached to Marie, his father’s niece, who found the time of his absence very long and weary. Marie was scarcely twenty. She was a pretty Flemish girl, with some Dutch blood in her veins. Her mother, when she was dying, had confided her to her brother, Jean Cornbutte. The brave old sailor loved her as a daughter, and saw in her proposed union with Louis a source of real and durable happiness. The arrival of the ship, already signalled off the coast, completed an important business operation, from which Jean Cornbutte expected large profits. The “Jeune-Hardie,” which had left three months before, came last from Bodoë, on the west coast of Norway, and had made a quick voyage thence. On returning home, Jean Cornbutte found the whole house alive. Marie, with radiant face, had assumed her wedding-dress. “I hope the ship will not arrive before we are ready!” she said. “Hurry, little one,” replied Jean Cornbutte, “for the wind is north, and she sails well, you know, when she goes freely.” “Have our friends been told, uncle?” asked Marie. “They have.” “The notary, and the curé?” “Rest easy. You alone are keeping us waiting.” At this moment Clerbaut, an old crony, came in. “Well, old Cornbutte,” cried he, “here’s luck! Your ship has arrived at the very moment that the government has decided to contract for a large quantity of wood for the navy!” “What is that to me?” replied Jean Cornbutte. “What care I for the government?” “You see, Monsieur Clerbaut,” said Marie, “one thing only absorbs us,—Louis’s return.” “I don’t dispute that,” replied Clerbaut. “But—in short—this purchase of wood—” “And you shall be at the wedding,” replied Jean Cornbutte, interrupting the merchant, and shaking his hand as if he would crush it. “This purchase of wood—” “And with all our friends, landsmen and seamen, Clerbaut. I have already informed everybody, and I shall invite the whole crew of the ship.” “And shall we go and await them on the pier?” asked Marie. “Indeed we will,” replied Jean Cornbutte. “We will defile, two by two, with the violins at the head.”