At regular hours the sea retreated, and great spaces
were left uncovered everywhere, as if the Channel
was slowly drying up; then with the same lazy slowness,
the waters rose again, and continued their everlasting
coming and going, without any heed of the dead.
At the foot of the cross, Gaud remained, surrounded
by these tranquil mysteries, gazing ever before her,
until the night fell and she could see no more.
September had passed. The sorrowing wife took
scarcely any nourishment, and could no longer sleep.
She remained at home now, crouching low with her hands
between her knees, her head thrown back and resting
against the wall behind. What was the good of
getting up or going to bed now? When she was
thoroughly exhausted she threw herself, dressed, upon
her bed. Otherwise she remained in the same position,
chilled and benumbed; in her quiescent state, only
her teeth chattered with the cold; she had that continual
impression of a band of iron round her brows; her cheeks
looked wasted; her mouth was dry, with a feverish taste,
and at times a painful hoarse cry rose from her throat,
and was repeated in spasms, while her head beat backward
against the granite wall. Or else she called
Yann by his name in a low, tender voice, as if he were
quiet close to her, whispering words of love to her.
Sometimes she occupied her brain with thoughts of
quite insignificant things; for instance, she amused
herself by watching the shadow of the china Virgin
lengthen slowly over the high woodwork of the bed,
as the sun went down. And then the agonized thoughts
returned more horrible, and her wailing cry broke
out again as she beat her head against the wall.
All the hours of the day passed, and all the hours
of evening, and of night, and then the hours of the
morning. When she reckoned the time he ought
to have been back, she was seized with a still greater
terror; she wished to forget all dates and the very
names of the days.
Usually there is some information concerning the wrecks
off Iceland; those who return have seen the tragedy
from afar, or else have found some wreckage or bodies,
or have an indication to guess the rest. But
of the Leopoldine nothing had been seen, and
nothing was known. The Marie-Jeanne men,
the last to have seen her, on the 2d of August, said
that she was to have gone on fishing farther towards
the north, and, beyond that, the secret was unfathomable.
Waiting, always waiting, and knowing nothing!
When would the time come when she need wait no longer?
She did not even know that; and, now, she almost wished
that it might be soon.
Oh! if he were dead; let them at least have pity enough
to tell her so! Oh! to see her darling, as he
was at this very moment, that is, what was left him!
If only the much-implored Virgin, or some other power,
would do her the blessing to show her, by second-sight,
her beloved! either living and working hard to return
a rich man, or else as a corpse, surrendered by the
sea, so that she might at least know a certainty.
