a carved shield representing a siren, could be read the word Gina.
Since early morning the dockyard had been filled by a crowd of curious people. The guests who were fortified with cards of admittance took their places in the tiers of the platform. In the front row arm chairs, upholstered in Utrecht velvet, awaited the authorities, the godmother and her family. Lookers on of little importance and the workmen took risks by placing themselves near the shore and the boat.
It was a beautiful, sunshiny day, as beautiful as It had been when they had made the excursion to Hemixem, almost a year before. Everybody who had the slightest pretension to importance in the world of intellect, style and politics, met there as if by chance. They strutted about, these people who counted, the Saint-Fardiers, the Vanderlings, the Brullekens, the De Zaters, the Fuchskops, the many Verhulsts, Verbists, Peeters and Janssens, and all the Vons and the Vans of the other occasion. It was always the same crowd.
Dupoissy was radiant and put on as many airs as if he had been the designer, owner and captain of the ship all in one. The ladies exhibited charming gowns designed with very evident meaning. Angéle and Cora Vanderling sat simpering next to their fiances, the young Saint-Fardiers, who were parading stylish lounging suits of blue with brass buttons, like the uniform of a naval officer. Door Bergmans was also at the ceremony, accompanied by his friends, the realist painter William Marbol and Rombaut de Vyveloy, the composer.
And now everything was ready. The crew gathered upon the bridge of the boat, according to the cus-
