noon
`` To be sure , as long as you like . '' He bought a good cigar at the first tobacconist 's and went down to the quay with a light step . He glanced up at the sky , which was clear and luminous , of a pale blue , freshly swept by the sea-breeze . Papagris , the boatman , commonly called Jean Bart , was dozing in the bottom of the boat , which he was required to have in readiness every day at noon when they had not been out fishing in the morning . `` You and I together , mate , '' cried Pierre . He went down the iron ladder of the quay and leaped into the vessel . `` Which way is the wind ? ''