At the Cross of Plouezoc’h she bade good-bye
to the old man, and begged him to return. The
lights of Paimpol were already in view, and there was
no more occasion to be afraid.
So hope was over for this time. Who could tell
her when she might see Yann again?
An excuse to return to Pors-Even would have been easy;
but it would really look too bad to begin her quest
all over again. She would have to be braver and
prouder than that. If only her little confidant
Sylvestre had been there, she might have asked him
to go and fetch Yann, so that there could be some
explanation. But he was gone now, and for how
many years?
“Me get married?” said Yann to his parents
that same evening. “Me get married?
Good heavens, why should I? Shall I ever be as
happy as here with ye? no troubles, no tiffs with
any one, and warm soup ready for me every night when
I come home from sea. Oh! I quite understand
that you mean the girl that came here to-day, but
what’s such a rich girl to do with us?
’Tisn’t clear to my thinking. And
it’ll be neither her, nor any other. It’s
all settled, I won’t marry—it ain’t
to my liking.”
The two old Gaoses looked at one another in silence,
deeply disappointed, for, after having talked it over
together, they were pretty well sure that this young
lady would not refuse their handsome Yann. But
they did not try to argue, knowing how useless that
would be. The mother lowered her head, and said
no more; she respected the will of her son, her eldest
born, who was all but the head of the family; although
he was always tender and gentle with her, more obedient
than a child in the petty things of life, he long
ago had been her absolute master for the great ones,
eluding all restraint with a quiet though savage independence.
He never sat up late, being in the habit, like other
fishermen, of rising before break of day. And
after supper at eight o’clock, he had given
another satisfactory look to his baskets and new nets
from Loguivy, and began to undress—calm
to all appearances, and went up to sleep in the pink-curtained
bed, which he shared with his little brother Laumec.
For the last fortnight Gaud’s little confidant,
Sylvestre, had been quartered in Brest; very much
out of his element, but very quiet and obedient to
discipline. He wore his open blue sailor-collar
and red-balled, flat, woollen cap, with a frank, fearless
look, and was noble and dignified in his sailor garb,
with his free step and tall figure, but at the bottom
of his heart he was still the same innocent boy as
ever, and thinking of his dear old grandam.
One evening he had got tipsy together with some lads
from his parts, simply because it is the custom; and
they had all returned to the barracks together arm-in-arm,
singing out as lustily as they could.
