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ANICELANDFISHERMANANICELANDFISHERMANbyPIERRELOTITranslatedbyM.JulesCambon1 ANICELANDFISHERMANPIERRELOTIThefirstappearanceofPierreLoti'sworks,twentyyearsago,causedasensationthroughoutthosecircleswhereinthecreationsofintellectandimaginationarefelt,studied,anddiscussed.Theauthorwasonewho,withapowerwhichnoonehadwieldedbeforehim,carriedoffhisreadersintoexoticlands,andwhoseart,inappearancemostsimple,provedagenuineenchantmentfortheimagination.ItwasthetimewhenM.Zolaandhisschoolstoodattheheadoftheliterarymovement.TherebreathedforthfromLoti'swritingsanall-penetratingfragranceofpoesy,whichliberatedFrenchliteraryidealsfromtheheavyandoppressiveyokeoftheNaturalisticschool.Truthnowsoaredonunhamperedpinions,andthereadingworldwascompletelywonbytheunsurpassedintensityandfaithfulaccuracywithwhichhedepictedthealluringcharmsoffar-offscenes,andpaintedthenaivesouloftheracesthatseemtoendureintheislesofthePacificassurvivingrepresentativesoftheworld'sinfancy.ItwasthenlearnedthatthisindependentwriterwasnamedinreallifeLouisMarieJulienViaud,andthathewasanavalofficer.Thisveryfact,thathewasnotawriterbyprofession,addedindeedtohissuccess.Heactuallyhadseenthatwhichhewasdescribing,hehadlivedthatwhichhewasrelating.Whatinanyothermanwouldhaveseemedbutresearchandoddity,remainednaturalinthecaseofasailorwhoreturnedeachyearwithamanuscriptinhishand.Africa,Asia,theislesofthePacific,weretheusualscenesofhisdramas.FinallyfromFranceitself,andfromtheoldestprovincesofFrance,hedrewsubject-matterfortwoofhisnovels,/AnIcelandFisherman/and/Ramuntcho/.Thisprovedasurprise.OurBretonsailorsandourBasquemountaineerswerenotlessforeigntotheParisiandrawing-roomthanwasAziyadeorthelittleRahahu.OneclaimedtohaveaknowledgeofBrittany,orofthePyrenees,becauseonehadvisitedDinardorBiarritz;whileinrealityneitherTahitinortheIsleofPaquescouldhaveremainedmorecompletelyunknowntous.Thedevelopmentsofhumanindustryhavebroughttheextremitiesof2 ANICELANDFISHERMANtheworldnearertogether;butthesoulofeachracecontinuestocloakitselfinitsownindividualityandtoremainamysterytotherestoftheworld.Onetraitaloneiscommontoall:theinfinitesadnessofhumandestiny.ThisitwasthatLotiimpressedsovividlyonthereadingworld.Hissuccesswasgreat.Thoughayoungmanasyet,LotisawhisworkcrownedwithwhatinFrancemaybeconsideredthesupremesanction:hewaselectedtomembershipintheFrenchAcademy.HisnamebecamecoupledwiththoseofBernardindeSt.PierreandofChateaubriand.Withthesoleexceptionoftheauthorof/PaulandVirginia/andofthewriterof/Atala/,heseemedtobeonewithoutpredecessorandwithoutamaster.Itmaybewellheretoinquirehowmuchreasonthereisforthisassertion,andwhatnovelfeaturesarepresentedinhiswork.IthasbecomeatritesayingthatFrenchgeniuslacksthesenseofNature,thattheFrenchtongueiscolourless,andthereforewantsthemoststrikingfeatureofpoetry.Ifweabandonedforonemomentthedomainoflettersandtookacomprehensiveviewofthefieldofart,wemightbepermittedtoexpressastonishmentatthepassingofsosummaryajudgmentonthegeniusofanationwhichhas,intherealsenseoftheterm,producedtwosuchpaintersofNatureasClaudeLorrainandCorot.Butevenintherealmoflettersitiseasilyseenthatthismodeofthinkingisduelargelytoinsufficientknowledgeofthelanguage'sresources,andtoastudyofFrenchliteraturewhichdoesnotextendbeyondtheseventeenthcentury.WithoutgoingbacktotheDukeofOrleansandtoVillon,oneneedonlyreadafewofthepoetsofthesixteenthcenturytobestruckbytheprominencegiventoNatureintheirwritings.NothingismoredelightfulthanRonsard'sword-paintingsofhissweetcountryofVendome.UntilthedayofMalherbe,thedidacticRegnierandtheCalvinisticMarotaretheonlytwowhocouldbesaidtogivecolourtothepreconceivedandprevalentnotionastothedrynessofFrenchpoetry.AndevenafterMalherbe,intheseventeenthcentury,wefindthatLaFontaine,themosttrulyFrenchofFrenchwriters,wasapassionateloverofNature.Hewhocanseenothinginthelatter'sfablesbeyondthelittledramaswhichtheyunfoldandtheordinarymoralwhichthepoetdrawstherefrom,must3 ANICELANDFISHERMANconfessthathefailstounderstandhim.Hislandscapespossessprecision,accuracy,andlife,whilesuchisthefragranceofhisspeechthatitseemsladenwiththefreshperfumeofthefieldsandfurrows.Racinehimself,themostpenetratingandthemostpsychologicalofpoets,istoowellversedinthehumansoulnottohavefeltitsintimateunionwithNature.HismagnificentverseinPhedre,"Ah,quenesuis-jeassiseal'ombredesforets!"isbutthecryofdespair,theappeal,filledwithanguish,ofaheartthatistroubledandwhichofthassoughtpeaceandalleviationamidthecoldindifferenceofinanimatethings.ThesmallplacegiventoNatureintheFrenchliteratureoftheseventeenthcenturyisnottobeascribedtothelanguagenorexplainedbyalackofsensibilityonthepartoftherace.Thetruecauseistobefoundinthespiritofthatperiod;forinvestigationwilldisclosethattheverysameconditionthencharacterizedtheliteraturesofEngland,ofSpain,andofItaly.Wemustbearinmindthat,owingtoanalmostuniquecombinationofcircumstances,thereneverhasbeenaperiodwhenmanwasmoreconvincedofthenobilityand,Idaresayit,ofthesovereigntyofman,orwasmoreinclinedtolookuponthelatterasabeingindependentoftheexternalworld.Hedidnotsuspecttheintimatelyclosebondswhichunitethecreaturetothemediuminwhichitlives.Amanoftheworldintheseventeenthcenturywasutterlywithoutanotionofthosetruthswhichintheirensembleconstitutethenaturalsciences.Hecrossedthethresholdoflifepossessedofadeepclassicalinstruction,andall-imbuedwithstoicalideasofvirtue.Atthesametime,hehadreceivedthemouldofastrongbutnarrowChristianeducation,inwhichnothingfiguredsavehisrelationswithGod.Thistwofoldtrainingelevatedhissoulandfortifiedhiswill,butwrenchedhimviolentlyfromallcommunionwithNature.ThisisthestandpointfromwhichwemustviewtheheroesofCorneille,ifwewouldunderstandthoseextraordinarysoulswhich,alwaysatthehighestdegreeoftension,denythemselves,asaweakness,everythingthatresemblestendernessorpity.Again,thusandthusalonecanweexplainhowDescartes,andwithhimallthephilosophersofhiscentury,rancountertoallcommonsense,andrefusedtorecognisethatanimalsmightpossessa4 ANICELANDFISHERMANsoul-likeprinciplewhich,howeverremotely,mightlinkthemtothehumanbeing.When,intheeighteenthcentury,mindsbecameemancipatedfromthenarrowrestrictionsofreligiousdiscipline,andwhenmethodwasintroducedintothestudyofscientificproblems,Naturetookherrevengeaswellinliteratureasinallotherfieldsofhumanthought.RousseauitwaswhoinauguratedthemovementinFrance,andthewholeofEuropefollowedinthewakeofFrance.Itmayevenbedeclaredthatthereactionagainsttheseventeenthcenturywasinmanyrespectsexcessive,fortheeighteenthcenturygaveitselfuptoaspeciesofsentimentaldebauch.Itisnonethelessafactthattheauthorof/LaNouvelleHeloise/wasthefirsttoblendthemorallifeofmanwithhisexteriorsurroundings.HefeltthesavagebeautyandgrandeurofthemountainsofSwitzerland,thegraceoftheSavoyhorizons,andthemorefamiliareleganceoftheParisiansuburbs.Wemaysaythatheopenedtheeyeofhumanitytothespectaclewhichtheworldofferedit.InGermany,Lessing,Goethe,Hegel,Schellinghaveproclaimedhimtheirmaster;whileeveninEngland,Byron,andGeorgeEliotherself,haverecognisedallthattheyowedtohim.ThefirstofRosseau'sdisciplesinFrancewasBernardindeSt.Pierre,whosenamehasfrequentlybeenrecalledinconnectionwithLoti.Indeed,thecharmingmasterpieceof/PaulandVirginia/wasthefirstexampleofexoticisminliterature;andtherebyitexcitedthecuriosityofourfathersatthesametimethatitdazzledthembythewealthandbrilliancyofitsdescriptions.ThencameChateaubriand;butNaturewithhimwasnotamerebackground.Hesoughtfromitanaccompaniment,inthemusicalsenseoftheterm,tothemovementsofhissoul;andbeingsomewhatpronetomelancholy,histasteseemstohavefavouredsombrelandscapes,stormyandtragical.Theentireromanticschoolwasbornfromhim,VictorHugoandGeorgeSand,TheophileGautierwhodrawsfromtheFrenchtongueresourcesunequalledinwealthandcolour,andevenM.Zolahimself,whosenaturalism,afterall,isbutthelastformand,asitwere,theendofromanticism,sinceitwouldbedifficulttodiscoverinhimanycharacteristicthatdidnotexist,asagermatleast,inBalzac.5 ANICELANDFISHERMANIhavejustsaidthatChateaubriandsoughtinNatureanaccompanimenttothemovementsofhissoul:thiswasthecasewithalltheromanticists.WedonotfindRene,Manfred,Indiana,livinginthemidstofatranquilandmonotonousNature.Thestormsofheavenmustrespondtothestormsoftheirsoul;anditisafactthatallthesegreatwriters,ByronaswellasVictorHugo,havenotsomuchcontemplatedandseenNatureastheyhaveinterpreteditthroughthemediumoftheirownpassions;anditisinthissensethatthekeenAmielcouldjustlyremarkthatalandscapeisaconditionorastateofthesoul.M.Lotidoesnotmerelyinterpretalandscape;thoughperhaps,tobeginwith,heisunconsciousofdoingmore.Withhim,thehumanbeingisapartofNature,oneofitsveryexpressions,likeanimalsandplants,mountainformsandskytints.Hischaractersarewhattheyareonlybecausetheyissueforthfromthemediuminwhichtheylive.Theyaretrulycreatures,andnotgodsinhabitingtheearth.Hencetheirprofoundandstrikingreality.HencealsooneofthepeculiarcharacteristicsofLoti'sworkers.Helovestopaintsimplesouls,heartsclosetoNature,whoseprimitivepassionsaresingularlysimilartothoseofanimals.HeishappyintheislesofthePacificoronthebordersofSenegal;andwhenheshiftshisscenesintooldEuropeitisneverwithmenandwomenoftheworldthatheentertainsus.Whatwecallamanoftheworldisthesameeverywhere;heismouldedbythesocietyofmen,butNatureandtheuniversehavenoplaceinhislifeandthought.M.PaulBourget'sheroesmightlivewithoutdistinctioninNewportorinMonteCarlo;theytakerootnowhere,butliveinthelargecities,inwinterresortsandindrawing-roomsastransientvisitorsintemporaryabiding-places.LotiseekshisheroesandhisheroinesamongthoseantiqueracesofEuropewhichhavesurvivedallconquests,andwhichhavepreserved,withtheirnativetongue,theindividualityoftheircharacter.HemetRamuntchointheBasquecountry,butdearerthanalltohimisBrittany:hereitwasthathemethisIcelandfishermen.6 ANICELANDFISHERMANTheBretonsoulbearsanimprintofArmorica'sprimitivesoil:itismelancholyandnoble.Thereisanundefinablecharmaboutthosearidlandsandthosesod-flankedhillsofgranite,whosesolehorizonisthefar-stretchingsea.Europeendshere,andbeyondremainsonlythebroadexpanseoftheocean.Thepoorpeoplewhodwellherearesilentandtenacious:theirheartisfulloftendernessandofdreams.Yann,theIcelandfisherman,andhissweetheart,GaudofPaimpol,canonlylivehere,inthesmallhousesofBrittany,wherepeoplehuddletogetherinastandagainstthestormswhichcomehowlingfromthedepthsoftheAtlantic.Loti'snovelsarenevercomplicatedwithamassofincidents.Thecharactersareofhumblestationandtheirlifeisassimpleastheirsoul./Aziyade/,/TheRomanceofaSpahi/,/AnIcelandFisherman/,/Ramuntcho/,allpresentthestoryofaloveandaseparation.Adeparture,ordeathitself,intervenestoputanendtotheromance.Butthecausematterslittle;theseparationisthesame;theheartsarebroken;Naturesurvives;itcoversoverandabsorbsthemiserableruinswhichweleavebehindus.NoonebetterthanLotihaseverbroughtoutthefrailtyofallthingspertainingtous,fornoonebetterthanhehasmadeusrealizethepersistencyoflifeandtheindifferenceofNature.ThiscircumstanceimpartstothereadingofM.Loti'sworksacharacterofpeculiarsadness.Thetrendofhisnovelsisnotonethatincitescuriosity;hisheroesaresimple,andtheatmosphereinwhichtheyliveisforeigntous.Whatsaddensusisnottheirhistory,buttheundefinableimpressionthatourpleasuresarenothingandthatwearebutanaccident.Thisisathoughtcommontothedegreeoftritenessamongmoralistsandtheologians;butastheypresentit,itfailstomoveus.IttroublesusaspresentedbyM.Loti,becausehehasknownhowtogiveitalltheforceofasensation.Howhasheaccomplishedthis?Hewriteswithextremesimplicity,andisnotaversetotheuseofvagueandindefiniteexpressions.AndyetthewealthandprecisionofGautier'sandHugo'slanguagefailtoendowtheirlandscapeswiththestrikingcharmandintenselifewhicharetobefoundinthoseofLoti.IcanfindnootherreasonforthisthanthatwhichIhavesuggestedabove:the7 ANICELANDFISHERMANlandscape,inHugo'sandinGautier'sscenes,isabackgroundandnothingmore;whileLotimakesitthepredominatingfigureofhisdrama.OursensibilitiesarenecessarilyarousedbeforethisapparitionofNature,blind,inaccessible,andall-powerfulastheFatesofold.ItmayproveinterestingtoinquirehowLoticontrivedtosoundsuchanewnoteinart.Heboasted,onthedayofhisreceptionintotheFrenchAcademy,thathehadneverread.Manyprotested,somesmiled,andalargenumberofpersonsrefusedtobelievetheassertion.Yetthestatementwasactuallyquitecredible,forthefoundationandbasisofM.Lotirestonanaivesimplicitywhichmakeshimverysensitivetothethingsoftheoutsideworld,andgiveshimaperfectcomprehensionofsimplesouls.Heisnotareader,forheisnotimbuedwithbooknotionsofthings;hisideasofthemaredirect,andeverythingwithhimisnotmemory,butreflectedsensation.Ontheotherhand,thatsailor-lifewhichhadenabledhimtoseetheworld,musthaveconfirmedinhimthismentalattitude.Thedeckofficerwhowatchesthevessel'scoursemaydonothingwhichcoulddistracthisattention;butwhileeverreadytoactandalwaysunoccupied,hethinks,hedreams,helistenstothevoicesofthesea;andeverythingabouthimisofinteresttohim,theshapeoftheclouds,theaspectofskiesandwaters.Heknowsthatamereboard'sthicknessisallthatseparateshimanddefendshimfromdeath.SuchisthehabitualstateofmindwhichM.Lotihasbroughttothecolouringofhisbooks.Hehasrelatedtoushow,whenstillalittlechild,hefirstbeheldthesea.Hehadescapedfromtheparentalhome,alluredbythebriskandpungentairandbythe"peculiarnoise,atoncefeebleandgreat,"whichcouldbeheardbeyondlittlehillsofsandtowhichledacertainpath.Herecognisedthesea;"beforemesomethingappeared,somethingsombreandnoisy,whichhadloomedupfromallsidesatonce,andwhichseemedtohavenoend;amovingexpansewhichstruckmewithmortalvertigo;...abovewasstretchedoutfullaskyallofonepiece,ofadarkgraycolourlikeaheavymantle;very,veryfaraway,inunmeasurabledepthsofhorizon,couldbeseenabreak,anopeningbetweenseaandsky,alongempty8 ANICELANDFISHERMANcrack,ofalightpaleyellow."Hefeltasadnessunspeakable,asenseofdesolatesolitude,ofabandonment,ofexile.Heranbackinhastetounburdenhissouluponhismother'sbosom,and,ashesays,"toseekconsolationwithherforathousandanticipated,indescribablepangs,whichhadwrungmyheartatthesightofthatvastgreen,deepexpanse."Apoetoftheseahadbeenborn,andhisgeniusstillbearsatraceoftheshudderoffearexperiencedthateveningbyPierreLotithelittlechild.Lotiwasbornnotfarfromtheocean,inSaintonge,ofanoldHuguenotfamilywhichhadnumberedmanysailorsamongitsmembers.WhileyetamerechildhethumbedtheoldBiblewhichformerly,inthedaysofpersecution,hadbeenreadonlywithcautioussecrecy;andheperusedthevessel'sancientrecordswhereinmarinerslongsincegonehadnoted,almostacenturybefore,that"theweatherwasgood,"that"thewindwasfavourable,"andthat"doradoesorgilt-headswerepassingneartheship."Hewaspassionatelyfondofmusic.Hehadfewcomrades,andhisimaginationwasoftheexaltedkind.Hisfirstambitionwastobeaminister,thenamissionary;andfinallyhedecidedtobecomeasailor.Hewantedtoseetheworld,hehadthecuriosityofthings;hewasinclinedtosearchforthestrangeandtheunknown;hemustseekthatsensation,delightfulandfascinatingtocomplexsouls,ofbetakinghimselfoff,ofwithdrawingfromhisownworld,ofbreakingwithhisownmodeoflife,andofcreatingforhimselfvoluntaryregrets.HefeltinthepresenceofNatureaspeciesofdisquietude,andexperiencedtherefromsensationswhichmightalmostbeexpressedincolours:hishead,hehimselfstates,"mightbecomparedtoacamera,filledwithsensitiveplates."Thispowerofvisionpermittedhimtoapprehendonlytheappearanceofthings,nottheirreality;hewasconsciousofthenothingnessofnothing,ofthedustofdust.Theremnantsofhisreligiouseducationintensifiedstillmorethisdistastefortheexternalworld.HewaswonttospendhissummervacationinthesouthofFrance,andhepreserveditswarmsunnyimpressions.ItwasonlylaterthathebecameacquaintedwithBrittany.Sheinspiredhimatfirstwithafeelingofoppressionandofsadness,anditwaslongbeforehelearnedtoloveher.9 ANICELANDFISHERMANThuswasformedanddeveloped,farfromliterarycirclesandfromParisiancoteries,oneofthemostoriginalwritersthathadappearedforalongtime.Henotedhisimpressionswhiletouringtheworld;onefinemorninghepublishedthem,andfromtheveryfirstthereadingpublicwaswon.Herelatedhisadventuresandhisownromance.Thequestioncouldthenberaisedwhetherhisskillandartwouldproveasconsummateifheshoulddeviatefromhisownpersonalitytowritewhatmightbetermedimpersonalpoems;anditispreciselyinthislastdirectionthathesubsequentlyproducedwhatarenowconsideredhismasterpieces.Astrangewriterassuredlyisthis,atoncelogicalandillusive,whomakesusfeelatthesametimethesensationofthingsandthatoftheirnothingness.AmidsomanyworkswhereintheluxuriesoftheOrient,thequasianimallifeofthePacific,theburningpassionsofAfrica,arepaintedwithavigourofimaginationneverwitnessedbeforehisadvent,/AnIcelandFisherman/shinesforthwithincomparablebrilliancy.SomethingofthepuresoulofBrittanyistobefoundinthesemelancholypages,which,solongastheFrenchtongueendures,mustevoketheadmirationofartists,andmustarousethepityandstirtheemotionsofmen.JULESCAMBON.10 ANICELANDFISHERMANBIOGRAPHICALNOTETherealnameofPIERRELOTIisLOUISMARIEJULIENVIAUD.HewasbornofProtestantparents,intheoldcityofRochefort,onthe14thofJanuary,1850.Inoneofhispleasantvolumesofautobiography,"LeRomand'unEnfant,"hehasgivenaverypleasingaccountofhischildhood,whichwasmosttenderlycaredforandsurroundedwithindulgences.Ataveryearlyagehebegantodevelopthatextremesensitivenesstoexternalinfluenceswhichhasdistinguishedhimeversince.HewasfirsttaughtataschoolinRochefort,butattheageofseventeen,beingdestinedforthenavy,heenteredthegreatFrenchnavalschool,LeBorda,andhasgraduallyriseninhisprofession.Hispseudonymissaidtohavehadreferencetohisextremeshynessandreserveinearlylife,whichmadehiscomradescallhimafter"leLoti,"anIndianflowerwhichlovestoblushunseen.Hewasnevergiventobooksorstudy(whenhewasreceivedattheFrenchAcademy,hehadthecouragetosay,"Lotinesaitpaslire"),anditwasnotuntilhisthirtiethyearthathewaspersuadedtowritedownandpublishcertaincuriousexperiencesatConstantinople,in"Aziyade,"abookwhich,likesomanyofLoti's,seemshalfaromance,halfanautobiography.HeproceededtotheSouthSeas,and,onleavingTahiti,publishedthePolynesianidyl,originallycalled"Raharu,"whichwasreprintedas"LeMariagedeLoti"(1880),andwhichfirstintroducedtothewiderpublicanauthorofremarkableoriginalityandcharm.Lotinowbecameextremelyprolific,andinasuccessionofvolumeschronicledoldexoticmemoriesormanipulatedthejournalofnewtravels."LeRomand'unSpahi,"arecordofthemelancholyadventuresofasoldierinSenegambia,belongsto1881.In1882Lotiissuedacollectionofshortstudiesunderthegeneraltitleof"Fleursd'Ennui."In1883heachievedthewidestcelebrity,fornotonlydidhepublish"MonFrereYves,"anoveldescribingthelifeofaFrenchbluejacketinallpartsoftheworld--perhaps,onthewhole,tothisdayhismostcharacteristicproduction--buthewasinvolvedinapublicdiscussion11 ANICELANDFISHERMANinamannerwhichdidhimgreatcredit.WhiletakingpartasanavalofficerintheTonquinwar,LotihadexposedinaParisiannewspaperaseriesofscandalswhichsucceededonthecaptureofHue,and,beingrecalled,hewasnowsuspendedfromtheserviceformorethanayear.Hecontinuedforsometimenearlysilent,butin1886,hepublishedanoveloflifeamongtheBretonfisher-folk,entitled"Pecheursd'Islande";thishasbeenthemostpopularofallhiswritings.In1887hebroughtoutavolumeofextraordinarymerit,whichhasneverreceivedtheattentionitdeserves;thisis"Proposd'Exil,"aseriesofshortstudiesofexoticplaces,inLoti'speculiarsemi-autobiographicstyle.ThefantasticromanceofJapanesemanners,"MadameChrysantheme,"belongstothesameyear.Passingoveroneortwoslighterproductions,wecometo1890,to"AuMaroc,"therecordofajourneytoFezincompanywithaFrenchembassy.Acollectionofstrangelyconfidentialandsentimentalreminiscences,called"LeLivredelaPitieetdelaMort,"belongsto1891.LotiwasonboardhisshipattheportofAlgierswhennewswasbroughttohimofhiselection,onthe21stofMay,1891,totheFrenchAcademy.SincehehasbecomeanImmortaltheliteraryactivityofPierreLotihassomewhatdeclined.In1892hepublished"Fantomed'Orient,"anotherdreamystudyoflifeinConstantinople,asortofcontinuationof"Aziyade."HehasdescribedavisittotheHolyLandinthreevolumes,"LeDesert,""Jerusalem,""LaGalilee"(1895-96),andhehaswrittenonenovel,"Ramentcho"(1897),astoryofmannersintheBasqueprovince,whichisquiteonalevelwithhisbestwork.In1898hecollectedhislateressaysas"FiguresetChosesquipassaient."In1899-1900LotivisitedBritishIndia,andintheautumnofthelatteryearChina;andhehasdescribedwhathesawthere,aftertheseige,inacharmingvolume,"DerniersJoursdePekin,"1902.E.G.12 ANICELANDFISHERMANPART1ONTHEICYSEACHAPTERITHEFISHERMENTheretheywere,fivehuge,square-builtseamen,drinkingawaytogetherinthedismalcabin,whichreekedoffish-pickleandbilge-water.Theoverheadbeamscamedowntoolowfortheirtallstatures,androundedoffatoneendsoastoresembleagull'sbreast,seenfromwithin.Thewholerolledgentlywithamonotonouswail,incliningoneslowlytodrowsiness.Outside,beyonddoubt,laytheseaandthenight;butonecouldnotbequitesureofthat,forasingleopeninginthedeckwasclosedbyitsweather-hatch,andtheonlylightcamefromanoldhanging-lamp,swingingtoandfro.Afireshoneinthestove,atwhichtheirsaturatedclothesweredrying,andgivingoutsteamthatmingledwiththesmokefromtheirclaypipes.Theirmassivetable,fittedexactlytoitsshape,occupiedthewholespace;andtherewasjustenoughroomformovingaroundandsittinguponthenarrowlockersfastenedtothesides.Thickbeamsranabovethem,verynearlytouchingtheirheads,andbehindthemyawnedtheberths,apparentlyhollowedoutofthesolidtimbers,likerecessesofavaultwhereintoplacethedead.Allthewainscotingwasroughandworn,impregnatedwithdampandsalt,defacedandpolishedbythecontinualrubbingsoftheirhands.Theyhadbeendrinkingwineandciderintheirpannikins,andthesheerenjoymentoflifelituptheirfrank,honestfaces.Now,theylingeredattablechatting,inBretontongue,onwomenandmarriage.AchinastatuetteoftheVirginMarywasfastenedonabracketagainstthemidshippartition,intheplaceofhonour.Thispatronsaintofoursailorswasratherantiquated,andpaintedwithverysimpleart;yettheseporcelainimages13 ANICELANDFISHERMANlivemuchlongerthanrealmen,andherredandbluerobestillseemedveryfreshinthemidstofthesombregreysofthepoorwoodenbox.Shemusthavelistenedtomanyanardentprayerindeadlyhours;atherfeetwerenailedtwonosegaysofartificialflowersandarosary.Thesehalf-dozenmenweredressedalike;athickbluewoollenjerseyclungtothebody,drawninbythewaist-belt;ontheheadwaswornthewaterproofhelmet,knownasthesou'-wester.Thesemenwereofdifferentages.Theskippermighthavebeenaboutforty;thethreeothersbetweentwenty-fiveandthirty.Theyoungest,whomtheycalledSylvestreor"Lurlu,"wasonlyseventeen,yetalreadyamanforheightandstrength;afinecurlyblackbeardcoveredhischeeks;stillhehadchildlikeeyes,bluish-greyinhue,andsweetandtenderinexpression.Huddledagainstoneanother,forwantofspace,theyseemedtofeeldownrightcomfort,snuglypackedintheirdarkhome.Outsidespreadtheoceanandnight--theinfinitesolitudeofdarkfathomlesswaters.Abrasswatch,hungonthewall,pointedtoeleveno'clock--doubtlesselevenatnight--anduponthedeckpatteredthedrizzlingrain.Amongthemselves,theytreatedthesequestionsofmarriageverymerrily;butwithoutsayinganythingindecent.No,indeed,theyonlysketchedplansforthosewhowerestillbachelors,orrelatedfunnystorieshappeningathomeatwedding-feasts.Sometimeswithahappylaughtheymadesomerathertoofreeremarksaboutthefuninlove-making.Butlove-making,asthesemenunderstandit,isalwaysahealthysensation,andforallitscoarsenessremainstolerablychaste.ButSylvestrewasworried,becauseamatecalledJean(whichBretonspronounce"Yann")didnotcomedownbelow.WherecouldYannbe,bytheway?washelashedtohisworkondeck?Whydidhenotcomebelowtotakehisshareintheirfeast?"It'scloseonmidnight,hows'ever,"observedthecaptain;anddrawinghimselfupheraisedthescuttlewithhishead,soastocallYannthatway.Thenaweirdglimmerfellfromabove."Yann!Yann!Lookalive,matey!""Matey"answeredroughlyfromoutsidewhilethroughthehalf-opened14 ANICELANDFISHERMANhatchwaythefaintlightkeptenteringlikethatofdawn.Nearlymidnight,yetitlookedlikeapeepofday,orthelightofthestarrygloaming,sentfromafarthroughmysticlensesofmagicians.Whentheapertureclosed,nightreignedagain,saveforthesmalllamp,"sended"nowandagainaside,whichsheditsyellowlight.Amaninclogswasheardcomingdownthewoodensteps.Heenteredbentintwolikeabigbear,forhewasagiant.Atfirsthemadeawryface,holdinghisnose,becauseoftheacridsmellofthesouse.Heexceededalittletoomuchtheordinaryproportionsofman,especiallyinbreadth,thoughhewasstraightasapoplar.Whenhefacedyouthemusclesofhisshoulders,mouldedunderhisbluejersey,stoodoutlikegreatglobesatthetopsofhisarms.Hislargebrowneyeswereverymobile,withagrand,wildexpression.SylvestrethrewhisarmsroundYann,anddrewhimtowardshimtenderly,afterthefashionofchildren.SylvestrewasbetrothedtoYann'ssister,andhetreatedhimasanelderbrother,ofcourse.AndYannallowedhimselftobepulledaboutlikeayounglion,answeringbyakindsmilethatshowedhiswhiteteeth.Theseweresomewhatfarapart,andappearedquitesmall.Hisfairmoustachewasrathershort,althoughnevercut.Itwastightlycurledinsmallrollsabovehislips,whichweremostexquisitelyanddelicatelymodelled,andthenfrizzedoffattheendsoneithersideofthedeepcornersofhismouth.Theremainderofhisbeardwasshaven,andhishighlycolouredcheeksretainedafreshbloomlikethatoffruitneveryethandled.WhenYannwasseated,themugswerefilledupanew.Thelightingofallthepipeswasanexcuseforthecabinboytosmokeafewwiffshimself.Hewasarobustlittlefellow,withroundcheeks--akindoflittlebrothertothemall,moreorlessrelatedtooneanotherastheywere;otherwisehisworkhadbeenhardenoughforthedarlingofthecrew.Yannlethimdrinkoutofhisownglassbeforehewassenttobed.Thereupontheimportanttopicofmarriagewasrevived."ButIsay,Yann,"askedSylvestre,"whenarewegoingtocelebrateyourwedding?""Yououghttobeashamed,"saidthemaster;"ahulkingchaplikeyou,15 ANICELANDFISHERMANtwenty-sevenyearsoldandnotyetspliced;ho,ho!Whatmustthelassesthinkofyouwhentheyseeyourollby?"Yannansweredbysnappinghisthickfingerswithacontemptuouslookforthewomenfolk.Hehadjustworkedoffhisfiveyears'governmentnavalservice;anditwasasmaster-gunnerofthefleetthathehadlearnedtospeakgoodFrenchandholdscepticalopinions.Hehemmedandhawedandthenrattledoffhislatestloveadventure,whichhadlastedafortnight.IthappenedinNantes,aFree-and-Easysingerfortheheroine.Oneevening,returningfromthewaterside,beingslightlytipsy,hehadenteredthemusichall.Atthedoorstoodawomansellingbigbouquetsattwentyfrancsapiece.Hehadboughtonewithoutquiteknowingwhatheshoulddowithit,andbeforehewasmuchmorethaninhadthrownitwithgreatforceatthevocalistuponthestage,strikingherfullintheface,partlyasaroughdeclarationoflove,partlythroughdisgustforthepainteddollthatwastoopinkforhistaste.Theblowhadfelledthewomantotheboards,and--sheworshippedhimduringthethreefollowingweeks."Why,blessye,lads,whenIleftshemademethisherepresentofarealgoldwatch."Thebettertoshowitthemhethrewituponthetablelikeaworthlesstoy.Thiswastoldwithcoarsewordsandoratoricalflourishesofhisown.Yetthiscommonplaceofcivilizedlifejarredsadlyamongsuchsimplemen,withthegrandsolemnityoftheoceanaroundthem;intheglimmeringofmidnight,fallingfromabove,wasanimpressionofthefleetingsummersofthefarnorthcountry.ThesewaysofYanngreatlypainedandsurprisedSylvestre.Hewasagirlishboy,broughtupinrespectforholythings,byanoldgrandmother,thewidowofafishermaninthevillageofPloubazlanec.Asatinychildheusedtogoeverydaywithhertokneelandtellhisbeadsoverhismother'sgrave.FromthechurchyardonthecliffthegreywatersoftheChannel,whereinhisfatherhaddisappearedinashipwreck,couldbeseeninthefardistance.Ashisgrandmotherandhimselfwerepoorhehadtotaketofishingin16 ANICELANDFISHERMANhisearlyyouth,andhischildhoodhadbeenspentoutontheopenwater.Everynighthesaidhisprayers,andhiseyesstillworetheirreligiouspurity.Hewascaptivatingthough,andnexttoYannthefinest-builtladofthecrew.Hisvoicewasverysoft,anditsboyishtonescontrastedmarkedlywithhistallheightandblackbeard;ashehadshotupveryrapidlyhewasalmostpuzzledtofindhimselfgrownsuddenlysotallandbig.HeexpectedtomarryYann'ssistersoon,butneveryethadansweredanygirl'sloveadvances.Therewereonlythreesleepingbunksaboard,onebeingdouble-berthed,sothey"turnedin"alternately.Whentheyhadfinishedtheirfeast,celebratingtheAssumptionoftheirpatronsaint,itwasalittlepastmidnight.Threeofthemcreptawaytobedinthesmalldarkrecessesthatresembledcoffin-shelves;andthethreeotherswentupondecktogetonwiththeirofteninterrupted,heavylabouroffish-catching;thelatterwereYann,Sylvestre,andoneoftheirfellow-villagersknownasGuillaume.Itwasdaylight,theeverlastingdayofthoseregions--apale,dimlight,resemblingnoother--bathingallthings,likethegleamsofasettingsun.Aroundthemstretchedanimmensecolourlesswaste,andexceptingtheplanksoftheirship,allseemedtransparent,ethereal,andfairy-like.Theeyecouldnotdistinguishwhatthescenemightbe:firstitappearedasaquiveringmirrorthathadnoobjectstoreflect;andinthedistanceitbecameadesertofvapour;andbeyondthatavoid,havingneitherhorizonnorlimits.Thedampfreshnessoftheairwasmoreintenselypenetratingthandryfrost;andwhenbreathingit,onetastedtheflavourofbrine.Allwascalm,andtherainhadceased;overheadtheclouds,withoutformorcolour,seemedtoconcealthatlatentlightthatcouldnotbeexplained;theeyecouldseeclearly,yetonewasstillconsciousofthenight;thisdimnesswasallofanindefinablehue.Thethreemenondeckhadlivedsincetheirchildhooduponthefrigidseas,intheverymidstoftheirmists,whicharevagueandtroubledasthebackgroundofdreams.Theywereaccustomedtoseethisvaryinginfinitudeplayabouttheirpaltryarkofplanks,andtheireyeswereasused17 ANICELANDFISHERMANtoitasthoseofthegreatfreeocean-birds.Theboatrolledgentlywithitseverlastingwail,asmonotonousasaBretonsongmoanedbyasleeper.YannandSylvestrehadgottheirbaitandlinesready,whiletheirmateopenedabarrelofsalt,andwhettinghislongknifewentandsatbehindthem,waiting.Hedidnothavelongtowait,ortheyeither.Theyscarcelyhadthrowntheirlinesintothecalm,coldwaterinfact,beforetheydrewinhugeheavyfish,ofasteel-greysheen.Andtimeaftertimethecodfishletthemselvesbehookedinarapidandunceasingsilentseries.Thethirdmanrippedthemopenwithhislongknife,spreadthemflat,saltedandcountedthem,andpiledupthelot--whichupontheirreturnwouldconstitutetheirfortune--behindthem,allstillredlystreamingandstillsweetandfresh.Thehourspassedmonotonously,whileintheimmeasurablyemptyregionsbeyondthelightslowlychangedtillitgrewlessunreal.Whatatfirsthadappearedalividgloaming,likeanorthernsummer'seve,becamenow,withoutanyintervening"darkhourbeforedawn,"somethinglikeasmilingmorn,reflectedbyallthefacetsoftheoceansinfading,roseate-edgedstreaks."Youreallyoughttomarry,Yann,"saidSylvestre,suddenlyandveryseriouslythistime,stilllookingintothewater.(HeseemedtoknowsomebodyinBrittany,whohadallowedherselftobecaptivatedbythebrowneyesofhis"bigbrother,"buthefeltshyuponsosolemnasubject.)"Me!Lor',yes,somedayIwillmarry."Hesmiled,didthealwayscontemptuousYann,rollinghispassionateeyes."ButI'llhavenoneofthelassesathome;no,I'llwedthesea,andIinviteyeallinthebarkeynow,totheballI'llgiveatmywedding."Theykeptonhaulingin,fortheirtimecouldnotbelostinchatting;theyhadanimmensequantityoffishinatravelingshoal,whichhadnotceasedpassingforthelasttwodays.Theyhadbeenupallnight,andinthirtyhourshadcaughtmorethanathousandprimecods;sothateventheirstrongarmsweretiredandtheywerehalfasleep.Buttheirbodiesremainedactiveandtheycontinuedtheirtoil,thoughoccasionallytheirmindsfloatedoffintoregionsofprofoundsleep.Butthefreeairtheybreathedwasaspureasthatofthefirstyoung18 ANICELANDFISHERMANdaysoftheworld,andsobracing,thatnotwithstandingtheirwearinesstheyfelttheirchestsexpandandtheircheeksglowasatarising.Morning,thetruemorninglight,atlengthcame;asinthedaysofGenesis,ithad"dividedfromthedarkness,"whichhadsettleduponthehorizonandrestedthereingreatheavymasses;andbytheclearnessofvisionnow,itwasseennighthadpassed,andthatthatfirstvaguestrangeglimmerwasonlyaforerunner.Inthethickly-veiledheavens,brokeoutrentshereandthere,likesideskylightsinadome,throughwhichpiercedgloriousraysoflight,silverandrosy.Thelower-lyingcloudsweregroupedroundinabeltofintenseshadow,encirclingthewatersandscreeningthefar-offdistanceindarkness.Theyhintedasofaspaceinaboundary;theywereascurtainsveilingtheinfinite,orasdraperiesdrawntohidethetoomajesticmysteries,whichwouldhaveperturbedtheimaginationofmortals.Onthisspecialmorning,aroundthesmallplankplatformoccupiedbyYannandSylvestre,theshiftingouterworldhadanappearanceofdeepmeditation,asthoughthiswereanaltarrecentlyraised;andthesheavesofsun-rays,whichdartedlikearrowsunderthesacredarch,spreadinalongglimmeringstreamoverthemotionlesswaves,asoveramarblefloor.Then,slowlyandmoreslowlyyetloomedstillanotherwonder;ahigh,majestic,pinkprofile--itwasapromontoryofgloomyIceland.Yann'sweddingwiththesea?Sylvestrewasstillthinkingofit--afterresuminghisfishingwithoutdaringtosayanythingmore.Hehadfeltquitesadwhenhisbigbrotherhadsoturnedtheholysacramentofmarriageintoridicule;anditparticularlyhadfrightenedhim,ashewassuperstitious.Forsolong,too,hehadmusedonYann'smarriage!HehadthoughtthatitmighttakeplacewithGaudMevel,ablondelassfromPaimpol;andthathewouldhavethehappinessofbeingpresentatthemarriage-feastbeforestartingforthenavy,thatlongfiveyears'exile,withitsdubiousreturn,thethoughtofwhichalreadypluckedathisheart-strings.Fouro'clockinthemorningnow.Thewatchbelowcameup,allthree,torelievetheothers.Stillrathersleepy,drinkinginchestfulsofthefresh,chillair,theysteppedup,drawingtheirlongsea-bootshigher,andhaving19 ANICELANDFISHERMANtoshuttheireyes,dazzledatfirstbyalightsopale,yetinsuchabundance.YannandSylvestretooktheirbreakfastofbiscuits,whichtheyhadtobreakwithamallet,andbegantomunchnoisily,laughingattheirbeingsoveryhard.Theyhadbecomequitemerryagainattheideaofgoingdowntosleep,snuglyandwarmlyintheirberths;andclaspingeachotherroundthewaisttheydanceduptothehatchwaytoanoldsong-tune.BeforedisappearingthroughtheaperturetheystoppedtoplaywithTurc,theship'sdog,ayoungNewfoundlandwithgreatclumsypaws.Theysparredathim,andhepretendedtobitethemlikeayoungwolf,untilhebittoohardandhurtthem,whereuponYann,withafrownandangerinhisquick-changingeyes,pushedhimasidewithanimpatientblowthatsenthimflyingandmadehimhowl.Yannhadakindheartenough,buthisnatureremainedratheruntamed,andwhenhisphysicalbeingwastouched,atendercaresswasoftenmorelikeamanifestationofbrutalviolence.CHAPTERIIICELANDERSTheirsmackwasnamed/LaMarie/,andhermasterwasCaptainGuermeur.Everyyearshesetsailforthebigdangerousfisheries,inthefrigidregionswherethesummershavenonight.Shewasaveryoldship,asoldasthestatuetteofherpatronsaintitself.Herheavy,oakenplankswereroughandworn,impregnatedwithoozeandbrine,butstillstrongandstout,andsmellingstronglyoftar.Atanchorshelookedanoldunwieldytubfromhersomassivebuild,butwhenblewthemightywesterngales,herlightnessreturned,likeasea-gullawakenedbythewind.Thenshehadherownstyleoftumblingovertherollers,andreboundingmorelightlythanmanynewerones,launchedwithallyournewfangles.Asforthecrewofsixmenandtheboy,theywere"Icelanders,"thevaliantraceofseafarerswhosehomesareatPaimpolandTreguier,andwhofromfathertosonaredestinedforthecodfisheries.TheyhardlyeverhadseenasummerinFrance.Attheendofeachwinterthey,withotherfishers,receivedthepartingblessingintheharbourofPaimpol.Andforthatfete-dayanaltar,alwaysthesame,andimitating20 ANICELANDFISHERMANarockygrotto,waserectedonthequay;andoverit,inthemidstofanchors,oarsandnets,wasenthronedtheVirginMary,calm,andbeamingwithaffection,thepatronessofsailors;shewouldbebroughtfromherchapelfortheoccasion,andhadlookedupongenerationaftergenerationwithhersamelifelesseyes,blessingthehappyforwhomtheseasonwouldbelucky,andtheotherswhonevermorewouldreturn.TheHost,followedbyaslowprocessionofwives,mothers,sweethearts,andsisters,wasborneroundtheharbour,wheretheboatsboundforIceland,bedeckedinallcolours,saluteditonitsway.Thepriesthaltedbeforeeach,givingthemhisholyblessing;andthenthefleetstarted,leavingthecountrydesolateofhusbands,lovers,andsons;andastheshoresfadedfromtheirview,thecrewssangtogetherinlow,fullvoices,thehymnssacredto"theStaroftheOcean."Andeveryyearsawthesameceremonies,andheardthesamegood-byes.Thenbeganthelifeoutupontheopensea,inthesolitudeofthreeorfourroughcompanions,onthemovingthinplanksinthemidstoftheseethingwatersofthenorthernseas.Untilnow/LaMarie/followedthecustomofmanyIcelanders,whichismerelytotouchatPaimpol,andthentosaildowntotheGulfofGascony,wherefishfetcheshighprices,orfartherontotheSandyIsles,withtheirsaltyswamps,wheretheybuythesaltforthenextexpedition.Thecrewsoflustyfellowsstayafewdaysinthesouthern,sun-kissedharbour-towns,intoxicatedbythelastraysofsummer,bythesweetnessofthebalmyair,andbythedownrightjollityofyouth.WiththemistsofautumntheyreturnhometoPaimpol,ortothescatteredhutsofthelandofGoelo,toremainsometimeintheirfamilies,inthemidstoflove,marriages,andbirths.Veryoftentheyfindunseenbabiesupontheirreturn,waitingforgodfatherseretheycanbebaptized,formanychildrenareneededtokeepupthisraceoffishermen,whichtheIcelandicMolochdevours.21 ANICELANDFISHERMANCHAPTERIIITHEWOMENATHOMEAtPaimpol,onefineeveningofthissameyear,uponaSundayinJune,twowomenweredeeplybusyinwritingaletter.Thistookplacebeforealargeopenwindow,witharowofflowerpotsonitsheavyoldgranitesill.Aswellascouldbeseenfromtheirbendingoverthetable,bothwereyoung.Onceworeaverylargeold-fashionedcap;theotherquiteasmallone,inthenewstyleadoptedbythewomenofPaimpol.TheymighthavebeentakenfortwolovinglasseswritingatendermissivetosomehandsomeIcelander.Theonewhodictated--theonewiththelargehead-dress--drewupherhead,wool-gathering.Oh,shewasold,veryold,notwithstandingherlookfrombehind,inhersmallbrownshawl--wemeandownrightold.Asweetoldgranny,seventyatleast.Verypretty,though,andstillfresh-coloured,withtherosycheekssomeoldpeoplehave.Her/coiffe/wasdrawnlowupontheforeheadanduponthetopofthehead,wascomposedoftwoorthreelargerollsofmuslinthatseemedtotelescopeoutofoneanother,andfellontothenape.Hervenerableface,framedinthepurewhitepleats,hadalmostaman'slook,whilehersoft,tendereyesworeakindlyexpression.Shehadnotthevestigeofatoothleft,andwhenshelaughedsheshowedherroundgums,whichhadstillthefreshnessofyouth.Althoughherchinhadbecomeaspointed"asthetoeofa/sabot/"(asshewasinthehabitofsaying),herprofilewasnotspoiledbytime;anditwaseasilyimaginedthatinheryouthithadbeenregularandpure,likethesaints'adorningachurch.Shelookedthroughthewindow,tryingtothinkofnewsthatmightamusehergrandsonatsea.ThereexistednotinthewholecountryofPaimpolanotherdearoldbodylikeher,toinventsuchfunnystoriesuponeverybody,andevenuponnothing.Alreadyinthislettertherewerethreeorfourmerrytales,butwithouttheslightestmischief,forshehadnothingill-naturedabouther.Theotherwoman,findingthattheideasweregettingscarce,begantowritetheaddresscarefully:"TOMONSIEURMOAN,SYLVESTRE,ABOARDTHE/MARIE/,22 ANICELANDFISHERMANc/oCAPTAINGUERMEUR,INTHESEAOFICELAND,NEARRYKAWYK."Heresheliftedherheadtoask:"Isthatall,GrannyMoan?"Thequeristwasyoung,adorablyyoung,agirloftwentyinfact;veryfair--ararecomplexioninthiscornerofBrittany,wheretheracerunsswarthy--veryfair,wesay,withgreatgreyeyesbetweenalmostblacklashes;herbrows,asfairasthehair,seemedasiftheyhadadarkerstreakintheirmidst,whichgaveawonderfulexpressionofstrengthandwilltothebeautifulface.Therathershortprofilewasverydignified,thenosecontinuingthelineofthebrowwithabsoluterectitude,asinaGreekstatue.Adeepdimpleunderthelowerlipfoileditupdelightfully;andfromtimetotime,whenshewasabsorbedbyaparticularidea,shebitthislowerlipwithherwhiteupperteeth,makingthebloodrunintinyredveinsunderthedelicateskin.Inhersuppleformtherewasnolittlepride,withgravityalso,whichsheinheritedfromtheboldIcelandicsailors,herancestors.Theexpressionofhereyeswasbothsteadyandgentle.Hercapwasintheshapeofacockle-shell,wornlowonthebrow,anddrawnbackoneitherside,showingthicktressesofhairabouttheears,ahead-dressthathasremainedfromremotetimesandgivesquiteanoldenlooktothewomenofPaimpol.Onefeltinstinctivelythatshehadbeenreareddifferentlythanthepooroldwomantowhomshegavethenameofgrandmother,butwhoisrealitywasbutadistantgreat-aunt.ShewasthedaughterofM.Mevel,aformerIcelander,abitofafreebooter,whohadmadeafortunebyboldundertakingsoutatsea.Thefineroomwheretheletterhadbeenjustwrittenwashers;anewbed,suchastownspeoplehave,withmuslinlace-edgedcurtains,andonthestonewallsalight-colouredpaper,toningdowntheirregularitiesofthegranite;overheadacoatingofwhitewashcoveredthegreatbeamsthatrevealedtheantiquityoftheabode;itwasthehomeofwell-to-dofolk,andthewindowslookedoutupontheoldgraymarket-placeofPaimpol,wherethe/pardons/areheld."Isitdone,GrannyYvonne?Haveyounothingelsetotellhim?""No,mylass,onlyIwouldlikeyoutoaddawordofgreetingtoyoung23 ANICELANDFISHERMANGaos.""YoungGaos"wasotherwisecalledYann.Theproudbeautifulgirlhadblushedveryredwhenshewrotethosewords.Andassoonastheywereaddedatthebottomofthepage,inarunninghand,sheroseandturnedherheadasideasiftolookatsomeveryinterestingobjectoutonthemarket-place.Standing,shewasrathertall;herwaistwasmodelledinaclingingbodice,asperfectlyfittingasthatofafashionabledame.Inspiteofhercap,shelookedlikeareallady.Evenherhands,withoutbeingconventionallysmall,werewhiteanddelicate,neverhavingtouchedroughwork.True,shehadbeenatfirstlittle/Gaud/(Daisy),paddlingbare-footedinthewater,motherless,almostwhollyneglectedduringtheseasonofthefisheries,whichherfatherspentinIceland;apretty,untidy,obstinategirl,butgrowingvigorousandstronginthebracingsea-breeze.Inthosedaysshehadbeensheltered,duringthefinesummers,bypoorGrannyMoan,whousedtogiveherSylvestretomindduringherdaysofhardworkinPaimpol.Gaudfelttheadorationofayoungmotherforthechildconfidedtohertendercare.Shewashiselderbyabouteighteenmonths.Hewasasdarkasshewasfair,asobedientandcaressingasshewashastyandcapricious.Shewellrememberedthatpartofherlife;neitherwealthnortownlifehadalteredit;andlikeafar-offdreamofwildfreedomitcamebacktoher,orastheremembranceofanundefinedandmysteriouspreviousexistence,wherethesandyshoresseemedlonger,andthecliffshigherandnobler.Towardstheageoffiveorsix,whichseemedlongagotoher,wealthhadbefallenherfather,whobegantobuyandsellthecargoesofships.ShehadbeentakentoSaint-Brieuc,andlatertoParis.Andfrom/lapetiteGaud/shehadbecomeMademoiselleMarguerite,tallandserious,withearnesteyes.Alwayslefttoherself,inanotherkindofsolitudethanthatoftheBretoncoast,shestillretainedtheobstinatenatureofherchildhood.Livinginlargetowns,herdresshadbecomemoremodifiedthanherself.Althoughshestillworethe/coiffe/thatBretonwomendiscardsoseldom,shehadlearnedtodressherselfinanotherway.24 ANICELANDFISHERMANEveryyearshehadreturnedtoBrittanywithherfather--inthesummeronly,likeafashionable,comingtobatheinthesea--andlivedagaininthemidstofoldmemories,delightedtohearherselfcalledGaud,rathercurioustoseetheIcelandersofwhomsomuchwassaid,whowereneverathome,andofwhom,eachyear,someweremissing;onallsidessheheardthenameofIceland,whichappearedtoherasadistantinsatiableabyss.Andthere,now,wasthemansheloved!Onefinedayshehadreturnedtoliveinthemidstofthesefishers,throughawhimofherfather,whohadwishedtoendhisdaysthere,andlivelikealandsmaninthemarket-placeofPaimpol.Thegoodolddame,poorbuttidy,leftGaudwithcordialthanksassoonastheletterhadbeenreadagainandtheenvelopeclosed.Shelivedratherfaraway,attheotherendofPloubazlanec,inahamletonthecoast,inthesamecottagewhereshefirsthadseenthelightofday,andwherehersonsandgrandsonshadbeenborn.Inthetown,asshepassedalong,sheansweredmanyfriendlynods;shewasoneoftheoldestinhabitantsofthecountry,thelastofaworthyandhighlyesteemedfamily.Withgreatcareandgoodmanagementshemanagedtoappearprettywelldressed,althoughhergownsweremuchdarned,andhardlyheldtogether.ShealwaysworethetinybrownPaimpolshawl,whichwasforbest,anduponwhichthelongmuslinrollsofherwhitecapshadfallenforpastsixtyyears;herownmarriageshawl,formerlyblue,hadbeendyedfortheweddingofhersonPierre,andsincethenwornonlyonSundays,lookedquitenice.Shestillcarriedherselfverystraight,notatalllikeanoldwoman;and,inspiteofherpointedchin,hersofteyesanddelicateprofilemadeallthinkherstillverycharming.Shewasheldingreatrespect--onecouldseethatifonlybythenodsthatpeoplegaveher.Onherwayshepassedbeforethehouseofhergallant,thesweetheartofformerdays,acarpenterbytrade;nowanoctogenarian,whosatoutsidehisdoorallthelivelongday,whiletheyoungones,hissons,workedintheshop.Itwassaidthatheneverhadconsoledhimselfforherloss,forneitherinfirstorsecondmarriagewouldshehavehim;butwitholdagehisfeelingforherhadbecomeasortofcomicalspite,halffriendlyand25 ANICELANDFISHERMANhalfmischievous,andhealwayscalledouttoher:"Aha,/labelle/,whenmustIcalltotakeyourmeasure?"Butshedeclinedwiththanks;shehadnotyetquitedecidedtohavethatdressmade.Thetruthis,thattheoldman,withratherquestionabletaste,spokeofthesuitindealplanks,whichisthelastofallourterrestrialgarments."Well,wheneveryoulike;butdon'tbeshyinaskingforit,youknow,oldlady."Hehadmadethisjokeseveraltimes;but,to-day,shecouldscarcelytakeitgood-naturedly.Shefeltmoretiredthaneverofherhard-workinglife,andherthoughtsflewbacktoherdeargrandson--thelastofthemall,who,uponhisreturnfromIceland,wastoenterthenavyforfiveyears!PerhapshemighthavetogotoChina,tothewar!Wouldshestillbeabout,uponhisreturn?Thethoughtalonewasagonytoher.No,shewassurelynotsohappyasshelooked,pooroldgranny!Andwasitreallypossibleandtrue,thatherlastdarlingwastobetornfromher?She,perhaps,mightdiealone,withoutseeinghimagain!Certainly,somegentlemenofthetown,whomsheknew,haddonealltheycouldtokeephimfromhavingtostart,urgingthathewasthesolesupportofanoldandalmostdestitutegrandmother,whocouldnolongerwork.Buttheyhadnotsucceeded--becauseofJeanMoan,thedeserter,anelderbrotherofSylvestre's,whomnooneinthefamilyevermentionednow,butwhostilllivedsomewhereoverinAmerica,thusdeprivinghisyoungerbrotherofthemilitaryexemption.Moreover,ithadbeenobjectedthatshehadhersmallpension,allowedtothewidowsofsailors,andtheAdmiraltycouldnotdeemherpoorenough.Whenshereturnedhome,shesaidherprayersatlengthforallherdeadones,sonsandgrandsons;thensheprayedagainwithrenewedstrengthandconfidenceforherSylvestre,andtriedtosleep--thinkingofthe"suitofwood,"herheartsadlyachingatthethoughtofbeingsoold,whenthisnewpartingwasimminent.Meanwhile,theothervictimofseparation,thegirl,hadremainedseatedatherwindow,gazinguponthegoldenraysofthesettingsun,reflectedonthegranitewalls,andtheblackswallowswheelingacrossthe26 ANICELANDFISHERMANskyabove.PaimpolwasalwaysquietontheselongMayevenings,evenonSundays;thelasses,whohadnotasingleladtomakelovetothem,saunteredalong,incouplesorthreetogether,broodingoftheirloversinIceland."AwordofgreetingtoyoungGaos!"Shehadbeengreatlyaffectedinwritingthatsentence,andthatname,whichnowshecouldnotforget.Sheoftenspenthereveningshereatthewindow,likeagrandlady.Herfatherdidnotapproveofherwalkingwiththeothergirlsofherage,whohadbeenherearlyplaymates.Andasheleftthecafe,andwalkedupanddown,smokinghispipewitholdseamenlikehimself,hewashappytolookupathisdaughteramongherflowers,inhisgrandhouse."YoungGaos!"Againstherwillshegazedseaward;itcouldnotbeseen,butshefeltitwasnigh,attheendofthetinystreetcrowdedwithfishermen.Andherthoughtstravelledthroughafascinatinganddelightfulinfinite,far,farawaytothenorthernseas,where"/LaMarie/,CaptainGuermeur,"wassailing.AstrangemanwasyoungGaos!retiringandalmostincomprehensiblenow,afterhavingcomeforwardsoaudaciously,yetsolovingly.Inherlongreverie,sherememberedherreturntoBrittany,whichhadtakenplacetheyearbefore.OneDecembermorningafteranightoftravelling,thetrainfromParishaddepositedherfatherandherselfatGuingamp.Itwasadamp,foggymorning,coldandalmostdark.Shehadbeenseizedwithapreviouslyunknownfeeling;shecouldscarcelyrecognisethequaintlittletown,whichshehadonlyseenduringthesummer--oh,thatgladoldtime,thedearoldtimesofthepast!Thissilence,afterParis!Thisquietlifeofpeople,whoseemedofanotherworld,goingabouttheirsimplebusinessinthemistymorning.Butthesombregranitehouses,withtheirdark,dampwalls,andtheBretoncharmuponallthings,whichfascinatedhernowthatshelovedYann,hadseemedparticularlysaddeninguponthatmorning.Earlyhousewiveswerealreadyopeningtheirdoors,andasshepassedshecouldglanceintotheold-fashionedhouses,withtheirtallchimney-pieces,wheresattheoldgrandmothers,intheirwhitecaps,quietanddignified.Assoonasdaylighthadbeguntoappear,shehadenteredthechurchtosayherprayers,andthegrandold27 ANICELANDFISHERMANaislehadappearedimmenseandshadowytoher--quitedifferentfromalltheParisianchurches--withitsroughpillarswornatthebasebythechafingofcenturies,anditsdamp,earthysmellofageandsaltpetre.Inadamprecess,behindthecolumns,ataperwasburning,beforewhichkneltawoman,makingavow;thedimflameseemedlostinthevaguenessofthearches.Gaudexperiencedtherethefeelingofalong-forgottenimpression:thatkindofsadnessandfearthatshehadfeltwhenquiteyoungatbeingtakentomassatPaimpolChurchonraw,wintrymornings.ButshehardlyregrettedParis,althoughthereweremanysplendidandamusingsightsthere.Inthefirstplaceshefeltalmostcrampedfromhavingthebloodofthevikingsinherveins.Andthen,inParis,shefeltlikeastrangerandanintruder.The/Parisiennes/weretight-laced,artificialwomen,whohadapeculiarwayofwalking;andGaudwastoointelligenteventohaveattemptedtoimitatethem.Inherhead-dress,orderedeveryyearfromthemakerinPaimpol,shefeltoutofherelementinthecapital;anddidnotunderstandthatifthewayfarersturnedroundtolookather,itwasonlybecauseshemadeaverycharmingpicture.SomeoftheseParisianladiesquitewonherbytheirhigh-bredanddistinguishedmanners,butsheknewthemtobeinaccessibletoher,whilefromothersofalowercastewhowouldhavebeengladtomakefriendswithher,shekeptproudlyaloof,judgingthemunworthyofherattention.Thusshehadlivedalmostwithoutfriends,withoutothersocietythanherfather's,whowasengagedinbusinessandoftenaway.Soshedidnotregretthatlifeofestrangementandsolitude.But,nonetheless,onthatdayofarrivalshehadbeenpainfullysurprisedbythebitternessofthisBrittany,seeninfullwinter.Andherheartsickenedatthethoughtofhavingtotravelanotherfiveorsixhoursinajoltingcar--topenetratestillfartherintotheblank,desolatecountrytoreachPaimpol.Allthroughtheafternoonofthatsamegrislyday,herfatherandherselfhadjourneyedinalittleoldramshacklevehicle,opentoallthewinds;passing,withthefallingnight,throughdullvillages,underghostlytrees,black-pearledwithmistindrops.Anderelonglanternshadtobelit,28 ANICELANDFISHERMANandshecouldperceivenothingelsebutwhatseemedtwotrailsofgreenBengallights,runningoneachsidebeforethehorses,andwhichweremerelythebeamsthatthetwolanternsprojectedonthenever-endinghedgesoftheroadway.ButhowwasitthattreesweresogreeninthemonthofDecember?Astonishedatfirst,shebenttolookout,andthensherememberedhowthegorse,theevergreengorseofthepathsandthecliffs,neverfadesinthecountryofPaimpol.Atthesametimeawarmerbreezebegantoblow,whichsheknewagainandwhichsmeltofthesea.Towardstheendofthejourneyshehadbeenquiteawakenedandamusedbythenewnotionthatstruckher,namely:"Asthisiswinter,IshallseethefamousfishermenofIceland."ForinDecembertheyweretoreturn,thebrothers,cousins,andloversofwhomallherfriends,greatandsmall,hadspokentoherduringthelongsummereveningwalksinherholidaytrips.Andthethoughthadhauntedher,thoughshefeltchilledintheslow-goingvehicle.Nowshehadseenthem,andherhearthadbeencapturedbyoneofthemtoo.CHAPTERIVFIRSTLOVEThefirstdayshehadseenhim,thisYann,wasthedayafterhisarrival,atthe"/PardondesIslandais/,"whichisontheeighthofDecember,thefete-dayofOurLadyofBonne-Nouvelle,thepatronessoffishers--alittlebeforetheprocession,withthegraystreets,stilldrapedinwhitesheets,onwhichwerestrewnivyandhollyandwintryblossomswiththeirleaves.Atthis/Pardon/therejoicingwasheavyandwildunderthesadsky.Joywithoutmerriment,composedchieflyofinsoucianceandcontempt;ofphysicalstrengthandalcohol;abovewhichfloated,lessdisguisedthanelsewhere,theuniversalwarningofdeath.AgreatclamourinPaimpol;soundsofbellsmingledwiththechantsofthepriests.Roughandmonotonoussongsinthetaverns--oldsailorlullabies--songsofwoe,arisenfromthesea,drawnfromthedeepnightofbygoneages.Groupsofsailors,arm-in-arm,zigzaggingthroughthestreets,29 ANICELANDFISHERMANfromtheirhabitofrolling,andbecausetheywerehalf-drunk.Groupsofgirlsintheirnun-likewhitecaps.Oldgranitehousesshelteringtheseseethingcrowds;antiquatedroofstellingoftheirstruggles,throughmanycenturies,againstthewesternwinds,themist,andtherain;andrelating,too,manystoriesofloveandadventurethathadpassedundertheirprotection.Andfloatingoverallwasadeepreligioussentiment,afeelingofbygonedays,withrespectforancientvenerationandthesymbolsthatprotectit,andforthewhite,immaculateVirgin.Sidebysidewiththetavernsrosethechurch,itsdeepsombreportalsthrownopen,andstepsstrewnwithflowers,withitsperfumeofincense,itslightedtapers,andthevotiveofferingsofsailorshungalloverthesacredarch.Andsidebysidealsowiththehappygirlswerethesweetheartsofdeadsailors,andthewidowsoftheshipwreckedfishers,quittingthechapelofthedeadintheirlongmourningshawlsandtheirsmoothtiny/coiffes/;witheyesdownwardbent,noiselesslytheypassedthroughthemidstofthisclamouringlife,likeasombrewarning.Andclosetoallwastheeverlastingsea,thehugenurseanddevourerofthesevigorousgenerations,becomefierceandagitatedasiftotakepartinthefete.Gaudhadbutaconfusedimpressionofallthesethingstogether.Excitedandmerry,yetwithherheartaching,shefeltasortofanguishseizeherattheideathatthiscountryhadnowbecomeherownagain.Onthemarket-place,wherethereweregamesandacrobats,shewalkedupanddownwithherfriends,whonamedandpointedouttoherfromtimetotimetheyoungmenofPaimpolorPloubazlanec.Agroupofthese"Icelanders"werestandingbeforethesingersof"/complaintes/,"(songsofwoe)withtheirbacksturnedtowardsthem.AnddirectlyGaudwasstruckwithoneofthem,tallasagiant,withhugeshouldersalmosttoobroad;butshehadsimplysaid,perhapswithatouchofmockery:"Thereisonewhoistall,tosaytheleast!"Andthesentenceimpliedbeneaththiswas:"Whatanincumbrancehe'llbetothewomanhemarries,ahusbandofthatsize!"Hehadturnedroundasifhehadheardher,andhadgivenheraquickglancefromtoptotoe,seemingtosay:"Whoisthisgirlwhowearsthe/coiffe/ofPaimpol,whoissoelegant,andwhomIneverhaveseen30 ANICELANDFISHERMANbefore?"Andhequicklybenthiseyestothegroundforpoliteness'sake,andhadappearedtotakearenewedinterestinthesingers,onlyshowingthebackofhisheadandhisblackhairthatfellinratherlongcurlsuponhisneck.Andalthoughshehadaskedthenamesofseveralothers,shehadnotdaredaskhis.Thefineprofile,thegrandhalf-savagelook,thebrown,almosttawnypupilsmovingrapidlyonthebluishopaloftheeyes;allthishadimpressedherandmadehertimid.Anditjusthappenedtobethat"FilsGaos,"ofwhomshehadheardtheMoansspeakasagreatfriendofSylvestre's.Ontheeveningofthissame/Pardon/,Sylvestreandhe,walkingarm-in-arm,hadcrossedherfatherandherself,andhadstoppedtowishthemgood-day.AndyoungSylvestrehadbecomeagaintoherasasortofbrother.Astheywerecousinstheyhadcontinuedto/tutoyer/(usingthouforyou,asignoffamiliarity)eachother;true,shehadatfirsthesitateddoingsotothisgreatboyofseventeen,whoalreadyworeablackbeard,butashiskind,soft,childisheyeshadhardlychangedatall,sherecognizedhimsoonenoughtoimaginethatshehadneverlostsightofhim.WhenheusedtocomeintoPaimpol,shekepthimtodinnerofanevening;itwaswithoutconsequencetoher,andhealwayshadaverygoodappetite,beingonrathershortrationsathome.Tospeaktruly,Yannhadnotbeenverypolitetoheratthisfirstmeeting,whichtookplaceatthecornerofatinygraystreet,strewnwithgreenbranches.Hehadraisedhishattoher,withanoblethoughtimidgesture;andafterhavinggivenheranever-rapidglance,turnedhiseyesaway,asifhewerevexedwiththismeetingandinahurrytogo.Astrongwesternbreezethathadarisenduringtheprocession,hadscatteredbranchesofboxeverywhereandloadedtheskywithdarkgraydraperies.Gaud,inherdreamlandofremembrances,sawallthisclearlyagain;thesadgloamingfallingupontheremainsofthe/Pardon/;thesheetsstrewnwithwhiteflowersfloatinginthewindalongthewalls;thenoisygroupsofIcelanders,otherwaifsofthegalesandtempestsflockingintothetaverns,singingtocheerthemselvesunderthegloomofthecomingrain;andaboveall,Gaudrememberedthegiantstandinginfrontofher,31 ANICELANDFISHERMANturningasideasifannoyed,andtroubledathavingmether.Whatawonderfulchangehadcomeoverhersincethen;andwhatadifferencetherewasbetweenthathubbubandthepresenttranquility!HowquietandemptyPaimpolseemedto-nightinthewarmlongtwilightofMay,whichkeptherstillatherwindowalone,lulledinherlove'syoungdream!CHAPTERVTHESECONDMEETINGTheirsecondmeetingwasatawedding-feast.YoungGaoshadbeenchosentoofferherhisarm.Atfirstshehadbeenrathervexed,notlikingtheideaofstrollingthroughthestreetswiththistallfellow,whomeverybodywouldstareat,onaccountofhisexcessiveheight,andwho,mostprobably,wouldnotknowwhattospeaktoherabout.Besides,hereallyfrightenedherwithhiswild,loftylook.AttheappointedhourallwereassembledfortheweddingprocessionsaveYann,whohadnotappeared.Timepassed,yethedidnotcome,andtheytalkedofgivingupanyfurtherwaitingforhim.Thenitwasshediscoveredthatitwasforhispleasure,andhisalone,thatshehaddonnedherbestdress;withanyotheroftheyoungmenpresentattheball,theevening'senjoymentwouldbespoiled.Atlasthearrived,inhisbestclothesalso,apologizing,withoutanyembarrassment,tothebride'sparty.Theexcusewas,thatsomeimportantshoalsoffish,notatallexpected,hadbeentelegraphedfromEngland,asboundtopassthatnightalittleoffAurigny;andsoalltheboatsofPloubazlanechastilyhadsetsail.Therewasgreatexcitementinthevillages,womenrushingabouttofindtheirhusbandsandurgingthemtoputoffquickly,andstrugglinghardthemselvestohoistthesailsandhelpinthelaunching;infact,aregular"turnout"throughouttheplaces,thoughinthemidstofthecompanyYannrelatedthisverysimply;hehadbeenobligedtolookoutforasubstituteandwarranthimtotheowneroftheboattowhichhebelongedforthewinterseason.Itwasthisthathadcausedhimtobelate,andinordernottomissthewedding,hehad"turned32 ANICELANDFISHERMANup"(abandoned)hisshareintheprofitsofthecatch.Hispleawasperfectlywellunderstoodbyhishearers,noonethinkingofblaminghim;forwellallknowthat,inthiscoastlife,allaremoreorlessdependentupontheunforeseeneventsatsea,andthemysteriousmigrationsofthefishyregions.TheotherIcelandespresentweredisappointedatnothavingbeenwarnedintime,likethefishersofPloubazlanec,ofthefortunethatwasskirtingtheirveryshores.Butitwastoolatenow,worseluck!Sotheygavetheirarmstothelasses,theviolinsbegantoplay,andjoyouslytheyalltrampedout.AtfirstYannhadonlypaidherafewinnocentcompliments,suchasfalltoachancepartnermetatawedding,andofwhomoneknowsbutlittle.Amidstallthecouplesintheprocession,theyformedtheonlyoneofstrangers,theotherswereallrelativesorsweethearts.Butduringtheeveningwhilethedancingwasgoingon,thetalkbetweenthemhadagainturnedtothesubjectofthefish,andlookingherstraightintheeyes,heroughlysaidtoher:"YouaretheonlypersonaboutPaimpol,andevenintheworld,forwhomIwouldhavemissedawindfall;truly,fornobodyelsewouldIhavecomebackfrommyfishing,MademoiselleGaud."Atfirstshewasratherastonishedthatthisfishermanshoulddaresotoaddressherwhohadcometothisballratherlikeayoungqueen,butthendelighted,shehadendedbyanswering:"Thankyou,MonsieurYann;andI,too,wouldratherbewithyouthanwithanybodyelse."Thatwasall.Butfromthatmomentuntiltheendofthedancing,theykeptonchattinginadifferenttonethanbefore,lowandsoft-voiced.Thedancingwastothesoundofahurdy-gurdyandviolin,thesamecouplesalmostalwaystogether.WhenYannreturnedtoinviteheragain,afterhavingdancedwithanothergirlforpoliteness'sake,theyexchangedasmile,likefriendsmeetinganew,andcontinuedtheirinterruptedconversation,whichhadbecomeveryclose.Simplyenough,Yannspokeofhisfisherlife,itshardships,itswage,andofhisparents'difficultiesinformeryears,whentheyhadfourteenlittleGaosestobringup,hebeingtheeldest.Now,theoldfolkswereoutofthereachofneed,becauseofa33 ANICELANDFISHERMANwreckthattheirfatherhadfoundintheChannel,thesaleofwhichhadbroughtin10,000francs,omittingtheshareclaimedbytheTreasury.Withthemoneytheybuiltanupperstorytotheirhouse,whichwassituatedatthepointofPloubazlanec,attheveryland'send,inthehamletofPors-Even,overlookingthesea,andhavingagrandoutlook."Itismightytough,though,"saidhe,"thisherelifeofanIcelander,havingtostartinFebruaryforsuchacountry,whereitisawfulcoldandbleak,witharaging,foamingsea."Gaudrememberedeveryphraseoftheirconversationattheball,asifithadallhappenedyesterday,anddetailscameregularlybacktohermind,asshelookeduponthenightfallingoverPaimpol.IfYannhadhadnoideaofmarriage,whyhadhetoldheralltheitemsofhisexistence,towhichshehadlistened,asonlyanengagedsweetheartwouldhavedone;hedidnotseemacommonplaceyoungman,pronetobabblinghisbusinesstoeverybodywhocamealong."Theoccupationisprettygood,nevertheless,"hesaid,"andIshallneverchangemycareer.Someyearswemakeeighthundredfrancs,andotherstwelvehundred,whichIgetuponmyreturn,andhandovertotheoldlady.""Toyourmother,MonsieurYann,eh?""Yes,everypennyofit,always.It'sthecustomwithusIcelanders,MademoiselleGaud."Hespokeofthisasaquiteordinaryandnaturalcourse."Perhapsyou'llhardlybelieveit,butIscarcelyeverhaveanypocket-money.OfaSundaymothergivesmealittlewhenIcomeintoPaimpol.Andsoitgoesallthetime.Why,look'eehere,thisyearmyfatherhadtheseclothesmadeforme,withoutwhichtreatInevercouldhavecometothewedding;certainsure,forInevershouldhavedaredofferyoumyarminmyolddudsoflastyear."Foronelikeher,accustomedtoseeingParisians,Yann'shabilimentswere,perhaps,notverystylish;ashortjacketopenovertheold-fashionedwaistcoat;butthebuildoftheirwearerwasirreproachablyhandsome,sothathehadanoblelookwithal.Smiling,helookedatherstraightinthedepthsofhereyeseachtime34 ANICELANDFISHERMANhespoketoher,soastodivineheropinion.Andhowgoodandhonestwashislook,ashetoldheralltheseshort-comings,sothatshemightwellunderstandthathewasnotrich!Andshesmiledalso,asshegazedathimfullintheface;answeringseldom,butlisteningwithherwholesoul,moreandmoreastonishedandmoreandmoredrawntowardshim.Whatamixtureofuntamedroughnessandcaressingchildishnesshewas!Hisearnestvoice,shortandblunttowardsothers,becamesofterandmoreandmoretenderashespoketoher;andforheraloneheknewhowtomakeittrillwithextremesweetness,likethemusicofastringedinstrumentwiththemuteuponit.Whatasingularandastonishingfactitwastoseethismanofbrawn,withhisfreeairandforbiddingaspect,alwaystreatedbyhisfamilylikeachild,anddeemingitquitenatural;havingtravelledoveralltheearth,metwithallsortsofadventures,incurredalldangers,andyetshowingthesamerespectfulandabsoluteobediencetohisparents.Shecomparedhimtoothers,twoorthreedandiesinParis,clerks,quill-drivers,orwhatnot,whohadpesteredherwiththeirattentions,forthesakeofhermoney.Heseemedtobethebest,aswellasthemosthandsome,manshehadevermet.Toputherselfmoreonanequalitywithhimsherelatedhow,inherownhome,shehadnotalwaysbeensowell-offasatpresent;thatherfatherhadbegunlifeasafishermanoffIceland,andalwaysheldtheIcelandersingreatesteem;andthatsheherselfcouldclearlyrememberasalittlechild,havingrunbarefooteduponthebeach,afterherpoormother'sdeath.Oh!theexquisitenightofthatball,uniqueinherlife!Itseemedfarawaynow,foritdatedbacktoDecember,andMayhadalreadyreturned.Allthesturdypartnersofthateveningwereoutfishingyondernow,scatteredoverthefarnorthernseas,intheclearpalesun,inintenseloneliness,whilethedustthickenedsilentlyonthelandofBrittany.StillGaudremainedatherwindow.Themarket-placeofPaimpol,hedgedinonallsidesbytheold-fashionedhouses,becamesadderandsadderwiththedarkling;everywherereignedsilence.Abovethehousetopsthestillbrilliantspaceoftheheavensseemedtogrowmorehollow,to35 ANICELANDFISHERMANraiseitselfupandfinallyseparateitselffromallterrestrialthings:these,inthelasthourofday,wereentirelyblendedintothesingledarkoutlineofthegablesofoldenroofs.Fromtimetotimeawindowordoorwouldbesuddenlyclosed;someoldsailor,shakyuponhislegs,wouldblunderoutofthetavernandplungeintothesmalldarkstreets;orgirlspassedby,returninghomelateaftertheirwalkandcarryingnosegaysofMay-flowers.OneofthemwhoknewGaud,callingoutgood-eveningtoher,heldupabranchofhawthornhightowardsherasiftoofferithertosmell;inthetransparentdarknessshecoulddistinguishtheairytuftsofitswhiteblossoms.Fromthegardensandcourtsfloatedanothersoftperfume,thatofthefloweringhoneysucklealongthegranitewalls,mingledwithavaguesmellofseaweedintheharbour.Batsflewsilentlythroughtheairabove,likehideouscreaturesinadream.ManyandmanyaneveninghadGaudpassedatherwindow,gazinguponthemelancholymarket-place,thinkingoftheIcelanderswhowerefaraway,andalwaysofthatsameball.Yannwasacapitalwaltzer,asstraightasayoungoak,movingwithagracefulyetdignifiedbearing,hisheadthrownwellback,hisbrown,curledlocksfallinguponhisbrow,andfloatingwiththemotionofthedance.Gaud,whowasrathertallherself,felttheircontactuponhercap,ashebenttowardshertograsphermoretightlyduringtheswiftmovements.NowandthenhepointedouttoherhislittlesisterMarie,dancingwithSylvestre,whowasher/fiance/.Hesmiledwithaverytenderlookatseeingthembothsoyoungandyetsoreservedtowardsoneanother,bowinggravely,andputtingonverytimidairsastheycommunedlowly,onmostamiablesubjects,nodoubt.Ofcourse,Yannwouldneverhaveallowedittobeotherwise;yetitamusedhim,venturesomeandboldashewas,tofindthemsocoy;andheandGaudexchangedoneoftheirconfidentialsmiles,seemingtosay:"Howpretty,buthowfunny/our/littlebrotheris!"Towardsthecloseoftheevening,allthegirlsreceivedthebreaking-upkiss;cousins,betrothed,andlovers,all,inagoodfrank,honestway,36 ANICELANDFISHERMANbeforeeverybody.But,ofcourse,YannhadnotkissedGaud;nonemighttakethatlibertywiththedaughterofM.Mevel;butheseemedtostrainheralittlemoretightlytohimduringthelastwaltzes,andshe,trustinghim,didnotresist,butyieldedcloserstill,givingupherwholesoul,inthesudden,deep,andjoyousattractionthatboundhertohim."Didyouseethesaucyminx,whateyesshemadeathim?"queriedtwoorthreegirls,withtheirowneyestimidlybentundertheirgoldenorblackbrows,thoughtheyhadamongthedancersoneortwolovers,tosaytheleast.AndtrulyGauddidlookatYannveryhard,onlyshehadtheexcusethathewasthefirstandonlyyoungmanwhomsheeverhadnoticedinherlife.Atdawn,whenthepartybrokeupandleftinconfusion,theyhadtakenleaveofoneanother,likebetrothedones,whoaresuretomeetthefollowingday.Toreturnhome,shehadcrossedthissamemarket-placewithherfather,littlefatigued,feelinglightandgay,happytobreathethefrostyfog,andlovingthesaddawnitself,sosweetandenjoyableseemedbarelife.TheMaynighthadlongsincefallen;nearlyallthewindowshadclosedwithagratingoftheirironfittings,butGaudremainedatherplace,leavinghersopen.Thelastpassers-by,whocoulddistinguishthewhitecapinthedarkness,mightsaytothemselves,"That'ssurelysomegirl,dreamingofhersweetheart."Itwastrue,forshewasdreamingofhers,withawilddesiretoweep;hertinyteethbitherlipsandcontinuallyopenedandpursedupthedeepdimplethatoutlinedtheunderlipofherfresh,puremouth.Hereyesremainedfixedonthedarkness,seeingnothingoftangiblethings.But,aftertheball,whyhadhenotreturned?Whatchangehadcomeoverhim?Meetinghimbychance,heseemedtoavoidher,turningasidehislook,whichwasalwaysfleeting,bytheway.ShehadoftendebatedthiswithSylvestre,whocouldnotunderstandeither."Butstill,he'stheladforyoutomarry,Gaud,"saidSylvestre,"ifyourfatherallowedye.Inthewholecountryroundyou'dnotfindhislike.First,letmetell'ee,he'sararegoodone,thoughhemayn'tlookit.Heseldomgetstipsy.Hesometimesisstubborn,butisverypliableforallthat.No,I37 ANICELANDFISHERMANcan'ttell'eehowgoodheis!AndsuchanA.B.seaman!Everynewfishingseasontheskippersregularlyfighttohavehim."Shewasquitesureofherfather'spermission,forsheneverhadbeenthwartedinanyofherwhims.AnditmatteredlittletoherwhetherYannwererichornot.Tobeginwith,asailorlikehimwouldneedbutalittlemoneyinadvancetoattendtheclassesofthecoastnavigationschool,andmightshortlybecomeacaptainwhomallshipownerswouldgladlyintrustwiththeirvessels.Italsomatteredlittletoherthathewassuchagiant;greatstrengthmaybecomeadefectinawoman,butinamanisnotprejudicialtogoodlooks.Withoutseemingtocaremuch,shehadquestionedthegirlsofthecountryroundabout,whoknewallthelovestoriesgoing;buthehadnorecognizedengagementwithanyone,hepaidnomoreattentiontoonethananother,butrovedfromrighttoleft,toLezardrieuxaswellastoPaimpol,toallthebeautieswhocaredtoreceivehisaddress.OneSundayevening,verylate,shehadseenhimpassunderherwindows,incompanywithoneJeannieCaroff,whomhetuckedunderhiswingveryclosely;shewaspretty,certainly,buthadaverybadreputation.ThishadpainedGaudverymuchindeed.Shehadbeentoldthathewasveryquick-tempered:onenightbeingrathertipsyinatavernofPaimpol,wheretheIcelandersheldtheirrevels,hehadthrownagreatmarbletablethroughadoorthattheywouldnotopentohim.Butsheforgavehimallthat;weallknowwhatsailorsaresometimeswhenthefittakesthem.Butifhisheartweregood,whyhadhesoughtoneoutwhoneverhadthoughtofhim,toleaveherafterward;whatreasonhadhehadtolookatherforawholeeveningwithhisfair,opensmile,andtousehissoftest,tenderestvoicetospeaktoherofhisaffairsastoabetrothed?Now,itwasimpossibleforhertobecomeattachedtoanother,ortochange.Inthissamecountry,whenquiteachild,shewasusedtobeingscoldedwhennaughtyandcalledmorestubbornthananyotherchildinherideas;andshehadnotaltered.Fineladyasshewasnow,ratherseriousandproudinherways,nonehadrefashionedher,andsheremainedalwaysthesame.Afterthisball,thepastwinterhadbeenspentinwaitingtoseehimagain,buthehadnotevencometosaygood-byebeforehisdeparturefor38 ANICELANDFISHERMANIceland.Sincehewasnolongerby,nothingelseexistedinhereyes;slowlytimeseemedtodraguntilthereturninautumn,whenshehadmadeuphermindtoputanendtoherdoubts.Thetown-hallclockstruckeleven,withthatpeculiarresonancethatbellshaveduringthequietspringnights.AtPaimpoleleveno'clockisverylate;soGaudclosedherwindowandlitherlamp,togotobed.PerhapsitwasonlyshynessinYann,afterall,orwasitbecause,beingproudalso,hewasafraidofarefusal,asshewassorich?Shewantedtoaskhimthisherselfstraightforwardly,butSylvestrethoughtthatitwouldnotbetherightthing,anditwouldnotlookwellforhertoappearsobold.InPaimpolalreadyhermannersanddressweresufficientlycriticised.Sheundressedslowlyasifinadream;firsthermuslincap,thenhertown-cutdress,whichshethrewcarelesslyonachair.Thelittlelamp,alonetoburnatthislatehour,bathedhershouldersandbosominitsmysteriouslight,herperfectform,whichnoeyeeverhadcontemplated,andnevercouldcontemplateifYanndidnotmarryher.Sheknewherfacewasbeautiful,butshewasunconsciousofthebeautyofherfigure.Inthisremoteland,amongdaughtersoffishers,beautyofshapeisalmostpartoftherace;itisscarcelyevernoticed,andeventheleastrespectablewomenareashamedtoparadeit.Gaudbegantounbraidhertresses,coiledintheshapeofasnail-shellandrolledroundherears,andtwoplaitsfelluponhershoulderslikeweightyserpents.Shedrewthemupintoacrownonthetopofherhead--thiswascomfortableforsleeping--sothat,byreasonofherstraightprofile,shelookedlikeaRomanvestal.Shestillheldupherarms,andbitingherlip,sheslowlyranherfingersthroughthegoldenmass,likeachildplayingwithatoy,whilethinkingofsomethingelse;andagainlettingitfall,shequicklyunplaitedittospreaditout;soonshewascoveredwithherownlocks,whichfelltoherknees,lookinglikesomeDruidess.Andsleephavingcome,notwithstandingloveandanimpulsetoweep,shethrewherselfroughlyinherbed,hidingherfaceinthesilkenmassesfloatingroundheroutspreadlikeaveil.InherhutinPloubazlanec,GrannyMoan,whowasontheotherand39 ANICELANDFISHERMANdarkersideofherlife,hadalsofallentosleep--thefrozensleepofoldage--dreamingofhergrandsonandofdeath.Andatthissamehour,onboardthe/Marie/,ontheNorthernSea,whichwasveryheavyonthisparticularevening,YannandSylvestre--thetwolonged-forrovers--sangdittiestooneanother,andwentongailywiththeirfishingintheeverlastingdaylight.CHAPTERVINEWSFROMHOMEAboutamonthlater,aroundIceland,theweatherwasofthatrarekindthatthesailorscalladeadcalm;inotherwords,intheairnothingmoved,asifallthebreezeswereexhaustedandtheirtaskdone.Theskywascoveredwithawhiteveil,whichdarkenedtowardsitslowerbordernearthehorizon,andgraduallypassedintodullgrayleadentints;overthisthestillwatersthrewapalelight,whichfatiguedtheeyesandchilledthegazerthroughandthrough.Allatonce,liquiddesignsplayedoverthesurface,suchlightevanescentringsasoneformsbybreathingonamirror.Thesheenofthewatersseemedcoveredwithanetoffaintpatterns,whichintermingledandreformed,rapidlydisappearing.Everlastingnightoreverlastingday,onecouldscarcelysaywhatitwas;thesun,whichpointedtonospecialhour,remainedfixed,asifpresidingoverthefadinggloryofdeadthings;itappearedbutasamerering,beingalmostwithoutsubstance,andmagnifiedenormouslybyashiftinghalo.YannandSylvestre,leaningagainstoneanother,sang"Jean-FrancoisdeNantes,"thesongwithoutanend;amusedbyitsverymonotony,lookingatoneanotherfromthecorneroftheireyesasiflaughingatthechildishfun,withwhichtheybegantheversesoverandoveragain,tryingtoputfreshspiritintothemeachtime.Theircheekswererosyunderthesharpfreshnessofthemorning:thepureairtheybreathedwasstrengthening,andtheyinhaleditdeepdownintheirchests,theveryfountainofallvigorousexistence.Andyet,aroundthem,wasasemblanceofnon-existence,ofaworldeitherfinishedornotyetcreated;thelightitselfhadnowarmth;allthingsseemedwithoutmotion,andasifchilled40 ANICELANDFISHERMANforeternityunderthegreatghostlyeyethatrepresentedthesun.The/Marie/projectedovertheseaashadowlongandblackasnight,orratherappearingdeepgreeninthemidstofthepolishedsurface,whichreflectedallthepurityoftheheavens;inthisshadowedpart,whichhadnoglitter,couldbeplainlydistinguishedthroughthetransparency,myriadsuponmyriadsoffish,allalike,glidingslowlyinthesamedirection,asifbenttowardsthegoaloftheirperpetualtravels.Theywerecod,performingtheirevolutionsallaspartsofasinglebody,stretchedfulllengthinthesamedirection,exactlyparallel,offeringtheeffectofgraystreaks,unceasinglyagitatedbyaquickmotionthatgavealookoffluiditytothemassofdumblives.Sometimes,withasuddenquickmovementofthetail,allturnedroundatthesametime,showingthesheenoftheirsilveredsides;andthesamemovementwasrepeatedthroughouttheentireshoalbyslowundulations,asifathousandmetalbladeshadeachthrownatinyflashoflightningfromunderthesurface.Thesun,alreadyverylow,loweredfurther;sonighthaddecidedlycome.Asthegreatballofflamedescendedintotheleaden-colouredzonesthatsurroundedthesea,itgrewyellow,anditsouterrimbecamemoreclearandsolid.Nowitcouldbelookedstraightat,asifitwerebutthemoon.Yetitstillgaveoutlightandlookedquitenearintheimmensity;itseemedthatbygoinginaship,onlysofarastheedgeofthehorizon,onemightcollidewiththegreatmournfulglobe,floatingintheairjustafewyardsabovethewater.Fishingwasgoingonwell;lookingintothecalmwater,onecouldseeexactlywhattookplace;howthecodcametobite,withagreedyspring;then,feelingthemselveshooked,wriggledabout,asiftohookthemselvesstillfirmer.Andeverymoment,withrapidaction,thefishermenhauledintheirlines,handoverhand,throwingthefishtothemanwhowastocleanthemandflattenthemout.ThePaimpolfleetwerescatteredoverthequietmirror,animatingthedesert.Hereandthereappeareddistantsails,unfurledformereform'ssake,consideringtherewasnobreeze.Theywerelikeclearwhiteoutlinesuponthegreysofthehorizon.Inthisdeadcalm,fishingoffIcelandseemedsoeasyandtranquilatradethatladies'yachtingwasnonameforit.41 ANICELANDFISHERMAN"JeanFrancoisdeNantes;JeanFrancois,JeanFrancois!"Sotheysang,likeacoupleofchildren.Yannlittletroubledwhetherornohewashandsomeandgood-looking.HewasboyishonlywithSylvestre,itistrue,andsangandjokedwithnoother;onthecontrary,hewasratherdistantwiththeothersandproudanddisdainful--verywillingthough,whenhishelpwasrequired,andalwayskindandobligingwhennotirritated.Sothetwainwentonsingingtheirsong,withtwoothers,afewstepsoff,singinganother,adirge--aclashingofsleepiness,health,andvaguemelancholy.Buttheydidnotfeeldull,andthehoursflewby.Downinthecabinafirestillsmoulderedintheironrange,andthehatchwaskeptshut,soastogivetheappearanceofnightthereforthosewhoneededsleep.Theyrequiredbutlittleairtosleep;indeed,lessrobustfellows,broughtupintowns,wouldhavewantedmore.Theyusedtogotobedafterthewatchatirregulartimes,justwhentheyfeltinclined,hourscountingforlittleinthisnever-fadinglight.Andtheyalwayssleptsoundlyandpeacefullywithoutrestlessnessorbaddreams."JeanFrancoisdeNantes;JeanFrancois,JeanFrancois!"Theylookedattentivelyatsomealmostimperceptibleobject,faroffonthehorizon,somefaintsmokerisingfromthewaterslikeatinyjotofanothergraytintslightlydarkerthanthesky's.Theireyeswereusedtoplumbingdepths,andtheyhadseenit."Asail,asail,thereaway!""Ihaveanidea,"saidtheskipper,staringattentively,"thatit'sagovernmentcruisercomingonherinspection-round."Thisfaintsmokebroughtnewsofhometothesailors,andamongothers,aletterwewroteof,fromanoldgrandam,writtenbythehandofabeautifulgirl.Slowlythesteamerapproachedtilltheyperceivedherblackhull.Yes,itwasthecruiser,makingtheinspectioninthesewesternfjords.Atthesametime,aslightbreezesprangup,fresheryettoinhale,andbegantotarnishthesurfaceofthestillwatersinpatches;ittraceddesignsinabluishgreentintovertheshiningmirror,andscatteringintrails,thesefannedoutorbranchedofflikeacoraltree;allveryrapidlywithalowmurmur;itwaslikeasignalofawakeningforetellingtheendofthis42 ANICELANDFISHERMANintensetorpor.Thesky,itsveilbeingrentasunder,grewclear;thevapoursfelldownonthehorizon,massinginheapslikeslate-colouredwadding,asiftoformasoftbanktothesea.Thetwoever-duringmirrorsbetweenwhichthefishermenlived,theoneonhighandtheonebeneath,recoveredtheirdeeplucidity,asifthemiststarnishingthemhadbeenbrushedaway.Theweatherwaschanginginarapidwaythatforetoldnogood.Smacksbegantoarrivefromallpointsoftheimmenseplane;first,alltheFrenchsmacksinthevicinity,fromBrittany,Normandy,Boulogne,orDunkirk.Likebirdsflockingtoacall,theyassembledroundthecruiser;fromtheapparentlyemptycornersofthehorizon,othersappearedoneveryside;theirtinygraywingswereseentilltheypeopledthepallidwaste.Nolongerslowlydrifting,fortheyhadspreadouttheirsailstothenewandcoolbreeze,andcrackedonalltoapproach.Far-offIcelandalsoreappeared,asifshewouldfaincomenearthemalso;showinghergreatmountainsofbarestonesmoredistinctlythanever.AndtherearoseanewIcelandofsimilarcolour,whichlittlebylittletookamoredefiniteform,andnonethelesswaspurelyillusive,itsgiganticmountainsmerelyacondensationofmists.Thesun,sinkinglow,seemedincapableofeverrisingoverallthings,thoughglowingthroughthisphantomislandsotangiblethatitseemedplacedinfrontofit.Incomprehensiblesight!nolongerwasitsurroundedbyahalo,butitsdischadbecomefirmlyspread,ratherlikesomefadedyellowplanetslowlydecayingandsuddenlycheckedthereintheheartofchaos.Thecruiser,whichhadstopped,wasfullysurroundedbythefleetofIcelanders.Fromallboatswerelowered,likesomanynut-shells,andconveyedtheirstrong,long-beardedmen,inbarbaric-lookingdresses,tothesteamer.Likechildren,allhadsomethingtobegfor;remediesforpettyailments,materialsforrepairs,changeofdiet,andhomeletters.Otherscame,sentbytheircaptains,tobeclappedinirons,toexpiatesomefault;astheyhadallbeeninthenavy,theytookthisasamatterofcourse.Whenthenarrowdeckofthecruiserwasblocked-upbyfourorfiveofthesehulkingfellows,stretchedoutwiththebilboesroundtheirfeet,theold43 ANICELANDFISHERMANsailorwhohadjustchainedthemupcalledouttothem,"Rollo'oneside,mylads,toletuswork,d'yehear?"whichtheyobedientlydidwithagrin.TherewereagreatmanylettersthistimefortheIcelandfleet.Amongtherest,twofor"/LaMarie/,CaptainGuermeur";oneaddressedto"MonsieurGaos,Yann,"theotherto"MonsieurMoan,Sylvestre."ThelatterhadcomebywayofRykavyk,wherethecruiserhadtakeniton.Thepurser,divingintohispost-bagsofsailcloth,distributedthemallround,oftenfindingithardtoreadtheaddresses,whichwerenotalwayswrittenveryskilfully,whilethecaptainkeptonsaying:"Lookalivethere,lookalive!thebarometerisfalling."Hewasratheranxioustoseeallthetinyyawlsafloat,andsomanyvesselsassembledinthatdangerousregion.YannandSylvestreusedtoreadtheirletterstogether.Thistimetheyreadthembythelightofthemidnightsun,shiningabovethehorizon,stilllikeadeadluminary.Sittingtogether,alittletooneside,inaretirednookofthedeck,theirarmsabouteachother'sshoulders,theyveryslowlyread,asiftoenjoymorethoroughlythenewssentthemfromhome.InYann'sletterSylvestregotnewsofMarieGaos,hislittlesweetheart;inSylvestre's,YannreadallGrannyMoan'sfunnystories,forshehadnotherlikeforamusingtheabsentonesyouwillremember;andthelastparagraphconcerninghimcameup:the"wordofgreetingtoyoungGaos."Whenthelettersweregotthrough,Sylvestretimidlyshowedhistohisbigfriend,totryandmakehimadmirethewritingofit."Look,isitnotprettywriting,Yann?"ButYann,whoknewverywellwhosehandhadtracedit,turnedaside,shrugginghisshoulders,asmuchastosaythathewasworriedtoooftenaboutthisGaudgirl.SoSylvestrecarefullyfoldedupthepoor,rejectedpaper,putitintoitsenvelopeandallinhisjersey,nexthisbreast,sayingtohimselfsadly:"Forsure,they'llnevermarry.Butwhatonearthcanhehavetosayagainsther?"Midnightwasstruckonthecruiser'sbell.Andyetourcoupleremainedsittingthere,thinkingofhome,theabsentones,athousandthingsinreverie.Atthissamemomenttheeverlastingsun,whichhaddippedits44 ANICELANDFISHERMANloweredgeintothewaters,beganslowlytoreascend,andlo!thiswasmorning.45 ANICELANDFISHERMANPARTIIINTHEBRETONLANDCHAPTERITHEPLAYTHINGOFTHESTORMTheNorthernsunhadtakenanotheraspectandchangeditscolour,openingthenewdaybyasinistermorn.Completelyfreefromitsveil,itgaveforthitsgrandrays,crossingtheskyinfitfulflashes,foretellingnastyweather.Duringthepastfewdaysithadbeentoofinetolast.Thewindsblewuponthatswarmofboats,asiftocleartheseaofthem;andtheybegantodisperseandflee,likeanarmyputtorout,beforethewarningwrittenintheair,beyondpossibilitytomisread.Harderandharderitblew,makingmenandshipsquakealike.Andthestilltinywavesbegantorunoneafteranotherandtomelttogether;atfirsttheywerefrostedoverwithwhitefoamspreadoutinpatches;andthen,withawhizzingsound,arosesmokeasthoughtheyburnedandscorched,andthewhistlinggrewloudereverymoment.Fish-catchingwasnolongerthoughtof;itwastheirworkondeck.Thefishinglineshadbeendrawnin,andallhurriedtomakesailandsometoseekforshelterinthefjords,whileyetotherspreferredtoroundthesouthernpointofIceland,findingitsafertostandfortheopensea,withthefreespaceaboutthem,andrunbeforethesternwind.Theycouldstillseeeachotherawhile:hereandthere,abovethetroughofthesea,sailswaggedaspoorweariedbirdsfleeing;themaststipped,buteverandanonrighted,liketheweightedpithfiguresthatsimilarlyresumeanerectattitudewhenreleasedafterbeingblowndown.Theillimitablecloudyroof,erstwhilecompactedtowardsthewesternhorizon,inanislandform,begantobreakuponhighandsenditsfragmentsoverthesurface.Itseemedindestructible,forvainlydidthewindsstretchit,pullandtossitasunder,continuallytearingawaydark46 ANICELANDFISHERMANstrips,whichtheywavedoverthepaleyellowsky,graduallybecomingintenselyandicilylivid.Evermorestronglygrewthewindthatthrewallthingsinturmoil.ThecruiserhaddepartedforshelteratIceland;somefishersaloneremainedupontheseethingsea,whichnowtookanill-bodinglookandadreadfulcolour.Allhastilymadepreparationsforbadweather.Betweenoneandanotherthedistancegrewgreater,tillsomewerelostsightof.Thewaves,curlingupinscrolls,continuedtorunaftereachother,toreassembleandclimbononeanother,andbetweenthemthehollowsdeepened.Inafewhours,everythingwasbelabouredandoverthrownintheseregionsthathadbeensocalmthedaybefore,andinsteadofthepastsilence,theuproarwasdeafening.Thepresentagitationwasadissolvingview,unconscientiousanduseless,andquicklyaccomplished.Whatwastheobjectofitall?Whatamysteryofblinddestructionitwas!Thecloudscontinuedtostreamoutonhigh,outofthewestcontinually,racinganddarkeningall.Afewyellowcleftsremained,throughwhichthesunshotitsraysinvolleys.Andthenowgreenishwaterwasstripedmorethicklywithsnowyfroth.Bymiddaythe/Marie/wasmadecompletelysnugfordirtyweather:herhatchesbatteneddown,andhersailsstorm-reefed;sheboundedlightlyandelastic;forallthehorridconfusion,sheseemedtobeplayingliketheporpoises,alsoamusedinstorms.Withherforesailtakenin,shesimplyscuddedbeforethewind.Ithadbecomequitedarkoverhead,wherestretchedtheheavilycrushingvault.Studdedwithshapelessgloomyspots,itappearedasetdome,unlessasteadiergazeascertainedthateverythingwasinthefullrushofmotion;endlessgrayveilsweredrawnalong,unceasinglyfollowedbyothers,fromtheprofunditiesofthesky-line--draperiesofdarkness,pulledfromanever-endingroll.The/Marie/fledfasterandfasterbeforethewind;andtimefledalso--beforesomeinvisibleandmysteriouspower.Thegale,thesea,the/Marie/,andthecloudswerealllashedintoonegreatmadnessofhastyflighttowardsthesamepoint.Thefastestofallwasthewind;thenthehuge47 ANICELANDFISHERMANseethingbillows,heavierandslower,toilingafter;and,lastly,thesmack,draggedintothegeneralwhirl.Thewavestrackedherdownwiththeirwhitecrests,tumblingonwardincontinualmotion,andshe--thoughalwaysbeingcaughtuptoandoutrun--stillmanagedtoeludethembymeansoftheeddyingwatersshespurnedinherwake,uponwhichtheyventedtheirfury.Inthissimilitudeofflightthesensationparticularlyexperiencedwasofbuoyancy,thedelightofbeingcarriedalongwithouteffortortrouble,inaspringysortofway.The/Marie/mountedoverthewaveswithoutanyshaking,asifthewindhadliftedhercleanup;andhersubsequentdescentwasaslide.Shealmostslidbackward,though,attimes,themountainsloweringbeforeherasifcontinuingtorun,andthenshesuddenlyfoundherselfdroppedintooneofthemeasurelesshollowsthatevadedheralso;withoutinjuryshesoundeditshorribledepths,amidaloudsplashingofwater,whichdidnotevensprinkleherdecks,butwasblownonandonlikeeverythingelse,evaporatinginfinerandfinersprayuntilitwasthinnedawaytonothing.Inthetroughitwasdarker,andwheneachwavehadpassedthemenlookedbehindthemtoseeifthenexttoappearwerehigher;itcameuponthemwithfuriouscontortions,andcurlingcrests,overitstransparentemeraldbody,seemingtoshriek:"Onlyletmecatchyou,andI'llswallowyouwhole!"Butthisnevercametopass,for,asafeather,thebillowssoftlyborethemupandthendownsogently;theyfeltitpassunderthem,withallitsboilingsurfandthunderousroar.Andsooncontinually,buttheseagettingheavierandheavier.Oneafteranotherrushedthewaves,moreandmoregigantic,likealongchainofmountains,withyawningvalleys.Andthemadnessofallthismovement,undertheever-darkeningsky,acceleratedtheheightoftheintolerableclamour.YannandSylvestrestoodatthehelm,stillsinging,"JeanFrancoisdeNantes";intoxicatedwiththequiverofspeed,theysangoutloudly,laughingattheirinabilitytohearthemselvesinthisprodigiouswrathofthewind."Isay,lads,doesitsmellmustyupheretoo?"calledoutGuermeurtothem,passinghisbeardedfaceupthroughthehalf-openhatchway,likeJack-in-the-box.48 ANICELANDFISHERMANOh,no!itcertainlydidnotsmellmustyondeck.Theywerenotatallfrightened,beingquiteconsciousofwhatmencancopewith,havingfaithinthestrengthoftheirbarkeyandtheirarms.AndtheyfurthermorereliedupontheprotectionofthatchinaVirgin,whichhadvoyagedfortyyearstoIceland,andsooftenhaddancedthedanceofthisday,smilingperpetuallybetweenherbranchesofartificialflowers.Generallyspeaking,theycouldnotseefararoundthem;afewhundredyardsoff,allseemedentombedinthefearfullybigbillows,withtheirfrothingcrestsshuttingouttheview.Theyfeltasifinanenclosure,continuallyalteringshape;and,besides,allthingsseemeddrownedintheaqueoussmoke,whichfledbeforethemlikeacloudwiththegreatestrapidityovertheheavingsurface.Butfromtimetotimeagleamofsunlightpiercedthroughthenorth-westsky,throughwhichasquallthreatened;ashudderinglightwouldappearfromabove,aratherspun-outdimness,makingthedomeoftheheavensdenserthanbefore,andfeeblylightingupthesurge.Thisnewlightwassadtobehold;far-offglimpsesastheywere,thatgavetoostronganunderstandingthatthesamechaosandthesamefurylayonallsides,evenfar,farbehindtheseeminglyvoidhorizon;therewasnolimittoitsexpanseofstorm,andtheystoodaloneinitsmidst!Atremendoustumultaroseallabout,likethepreludeofanapocalypse,spreadingtheterroroftheultimateendoftheearth.Andamidstitthousandsofvoicescouldbeheardabove,shrieking,bellowing,calling,asfromagreatdistance.Itwasonlythewind,thegreatmotivebreathofallthisdisorder,thevoiceoftheinvisiblepowerrulingall.Thencameothervoices,nearerandlessindefinite,threateningdestruction,andmakingthewatershudderandhissasifonburningcoals;thedisturbanceincreasedinterror.Notwithstandingtheirflight,theseabegantogainonthem,to"burythemup,"astheyphrasedit:firstthesprayfelldownonthemfrombehind,andmassesofwaterthrownwithsuchviolenceastobreakeverythingintheircourse.Thewaveswereeverincreasing,andthetempesttoreofftheirridgesandhurledthem,too,uponthepoop,likeademon'sgameofsnowballing,tilldashedtoatomsonthebulwarks.Heaviermassesfellon49 ANICELANDFISHERMANtheplankswithahammeringsound,tillthe/Marie/shiveredthroughout,asifinpain.Nothingcouldbedistinguishedovertheside,becauseofthescreenofcreamyfoam;andwhenthewindssoughedmoreloudly,thisfoamformedintowhirlingspouts,likethedustofthewayinsummertime.Atlengthaheavyrainfellcrossways,andsoonstraightupanddown,andhowalltheseelementsofdestructionyelledtogether,clashedandinterlocked,notonguecantell.YannandSylvestrestuckstaunchlytothehelm,coveredwiththeirwaterproofs,hardandshinyassharkskin;theyhadfirmlysecuredthematthethroatbytarredstrings,andlikewiseatwristsandanklestopreventthewaterfromrunningin,andtherainonlypouredoffthem;whenitfelltooheavily,theyarchedtheirbacks,andheldallthemorestoutly,nottobethrownovertheboard.Theircheeksburned,andeveryminutetheirbreathwasbeatenoutorstopped.Aftereachseawasshippedandrushedover,theyexchangedglances,grinningatthecrustofsaltsettledintheirbeards.Inthelongrunthough,thisbecametiresome,anunceasingfury,whichalwayspromisedaworsevisitation.Thefuryofmenandbeastssoonfallsanddiesaway;butthefuryoflifelessthings,withoutcauseorobject,isasmysteriousaslifeanddeath,andhastobeborneforverylong."JeanFrancoisdeNantes;JeanFrancois,JeanFrancois!"Throughtheirpalelipsstillcametherefrainoftheoldsong,butasfromaspeakingautomaton,unconsciouslytakenupfromtimetotime.Theexcessofmotionanduproarhadmadethemdumb,anddespitetheiryouththeirsmileswereinsincere,andtheirteethchatteredwithcold;theireyes,half-closedundertheirraw,throbbingeyelids,remainedglazedinterror.Lashedtothehelm,likemarblecaryatides,theyonlymovedtheirnumbedbluehands,almostwithoutthinking,bysheermuscularhabit.Withtheirhairstreamingandmouthscontracted,theyhadbecomechanged,alltheprimitivewildnessinmanappearingagain.Theycouldnotseeoneanothertruly,butstillwereawareofbeingcompanioned.Intheinstantsofgreatestdanger,eachtimethatafreshmountainofwaterrosebehindthem,cametoovertowerthem,andcrashhorriblyagainsttheirboat,oneoftheirhandswouldmoveasifinvoluntarily,toformthe50 ANICELANDFISHERMANsignofthecross.TheynomorethoughtofGaudthanofanyotherwoman,oranymarrying.Thetravailwaslastingtoolong,andtheyhadnothoughtsleft.Theintoxicationofnoise,cold,andfatiguedrownedallintheirbrain.Theyweremerelytwopillarsofstiffenedhumanflesh,heldupbythehelm;twostrongbeasts,cowering,butdeterminedtheywouldnotbeoverwhelmed.CHAPTERIIAPARDONABLERUSEInBrittany,towardstheendofSeptember,onanalreadychillyday,GaudwaswalkingaloneacrossthecommonofPloubazlanec,inthedirectionofPors-Even.TheIcelandershadreturnedamonthback,excepttwo,whichhadperishedinthatJunegale.Butthe/Marie/hadheldherown,andYannandallhercrewwerepeacefullyathome.GaudfeltverytroubledattheideaofgoingtoYann'shouse.ShehadseenhimoncesincethereturnfromIceland,whentheyhadallgonetogethertoseepoorlittleSylvestreofftothenavy.Theyaccompaniedhimtothecoaching-house,heblubberingalittleandhisgrandmotherweeping,andhehadstartedtojointhefleetatBrest.Yann,whohadcomealsotobidgood-byetohislittlefriend,hadfeignedtolookasidewhenGaudlookedathim,andasthereweremanypeopleroundthecoachtoseetheothersailorsoff,andparentsassembledtosaygood-bye,thepairhadnotachancetospeak.So,atlast,shehadformedastrongresolution,andrathertimidlywendedherwaytowardstheGaos'shome.HerfatherhadformerlyhadmutualinterestswithYann'sfather(complicatedbusiness,which,withpeasantsandfishersalike,seemstobeendless),andowedhimahundredfrancsforthesaleofaboat,whichhadjusttakenplaceinaraffle."Yououghttoletmecarrythemoneytohim,father,"shehadsaid."IshallbepleasedtoseeMarieGaos.IneverhavebeensofarinPloubazlanec,either,andIshallenjoythelongwalk."51 ANICELANDFISHERMANTospeakthetruth,shewascuriouslyanxioustoknowYann'sfamily,whichshemightsomedayenter;andshealsowantedtoseethehouseandvillage.Inoneoftheirlastchats,beforehisdeparture,Sylvestrehadexplainedtoher,inhisownway,hisfriend'sshyness."D'yesee,Gaud,he'slikethis,hewon'tmarryanybody,that'shisidea;heonlylovesthesea,andonedayeven,infun,hesaidhehadpromisedtobeweddedtoit."Whereupon,sheforgavehimallhispeculiarways,andrememberedonlyhisbeautifulopensmileonthenightoftheball,andshehopedonandon.Ifsheweretomeethiminhishome,ofcourseshewouldsaynothing;shehadnointentionofbeingsobold.Butifhesawhercloselyagain,perhapshemightspeak.CHAPTERIIIOFSINISTERPORTENTShehadbeenwalkingforthelasthour,lightlyyetoppressed,inhalingthehealthyopenbreezewhistlinguptheroadstowheretheycrossedand/Calvaires/wereerected,ghastlyhighwayornamentsofourSaviouronHiscross,towhichBretonsaregiven.Fromtimetotimeshepassedthroughsmallfishingvillages,whicharebeatenaboutbythewindsthewholeyearthroughtillofthecolouroftherocks.Inoneofthesehamlets,wherethepathnarrowssuddenlybetweendarkwalls,andbetweenthewhitewashedroofs,highandpointedlikeCeltichuts,atavernsign-boardmadehersmile.Itwas"TheChineseCiderCellars."Onitwerepaintedtwogrotesquefigures,dressedingreenandpinkrobes,withpigtails,drinkingcider.NodoubtthewhimofsomeoldsailorwhohadbeeninChina.Shesawallonherway;peoplewhoaregreatlyengrossedintheobjectofajourneyalwaysfindmoreamusementthanothersinitsthousanddetails.Thetinyvillagewasfarbehindhernow,andassheadvancedinthislastpromontoryoftheBretonland,thetreesaroundherbecamemore52 ANICELANDFISHERMANscarce,andthecountrymoremournful.Thegroundwasundulatingandrocky,andfromalltheheightstheopenseacouldbeseen.Nomoretreesnow;nothingbuttheshornheathswiththeirgreenreeds,andhereandtheretheconsecratedcrossesrose,theiroutstretchedarmsoutlinedagainstthesky,givingthewholecountrytheaspectofacemetery.Atoneofthecross-ways,guardedbyacolossalimageofChrist,shehesitatedbetweentworoadsrunningamongthornyslopes.Achildhappeningtopass,cametoherrescue:"Good-day,MademoiselleGaud!"ItwasoneofthelittleGaoses,oneofYann'sweesisters.Gaudkissedherandaskedherifherparentswereathome."Fatherandmotherare,yes.ButbrotherYann,"saidthelittleone,withoutintent,ofcourse,"hasgonetoLoguivy;butIdon'tthinkhe'llbeverylatehomeagain."Sohewasnotthere?Againdestinywasbetweenthem,everywhereandalways.Shethoughtatfirstofputtingoffhervisittoanotherday.Butthelittlelasswhohadmethermightmentionthefact.WhatwouldtheythinkatPors-Even?Soshedecidedtogoon,butloiteringsoastogiveYanntimetoreturn.Asshenearedhisvillage,inthislostcountry,allthingsseemedrougherandmoredesolate.Seabreezesthatmademenstronger,madeshorterandmorestubblyplants.Seaweedsofallkindswerescatteredoverthepaths,leavesfromgrowthsinanotherelement,provingtheexistenceofaneighbouringworld;theirbrinyodourmingledwiththeperfumeoftheheather.NowandagainGaudmetpassers-by,sea-folk,whocouldbeseenalongwayoff,overthebarecountry,outlinedandmagnifiedagainstthehighsea-line.Pilotsorfishers,seemingtowatchthegreatsea,inpassingherwishedhergood-day.Broadsun-burntfacesweretheirs,manlyanddeterminedundertheireasycaps.Timedidnotgoquicklyenough,andshereallydidnotknowwhattodotolengthentheway;thesepeopleseemedsurprisedatseeingherwalksoslowly.53 ANICELANDFISHERMANWhatcouldYannbedoingatLoguivy?Courtingthegirls,perhaps.Ah!ifsheonlyhadknownhowlittlehetroubledhisheadaboutthem!HehadsimplygonetoLoguivytogiveanordertoabasket-maker,whowastheonlyoneinthecountryknowinghowtoweavelobsterpots.Hismindwasveryfreefromlovejustnow.Shepassedachapel,atsuchaheightitcouldbeseenremotely.Itwasalittlegrayoldchapelinthemidstofthebarren.Aclumpoftrees,graytoo,andalmostleafless,seemedlikehairtoit,pushedbysomeinvisiblehandallononeside.Itwasthatsamehandthathadwreckedthefishers'boats,theeternalhandofthewesternwinds,andhadtwistedallthebranchesofthecoasttreesinthedirectionofthewavesandoftheoff-seabreezes.Theoldtreeshadgrownawryanddishevelled,bendingtheirbacksunderthetime-honouredstrengthofthathand.Gaudwasalmostattheendofherwalk,asthechapelinsightwasthatofPors-Even;soshestoppedtheretowinalittlemoretime.Apettymoulderingwallranroundanenclosurecontainingtombstones.Everythingwasofthesamecolour,chapel,trees,andgraves;thewholespotseemedfadedandeatenintobythesea-wind;thestones,theknottybranches,andthegranitesaints,placedinthewallniches,werecoveredbythesamegrayishlichen,splashedpaleyellow.Ononeofthewoodencrossesthisnamewaswritteninlargeletters:"GAOS.--GAOS,JOEL,80years."Yes,thiswastheoldgrandfather--sheknewthat--fortheseahadnotwantedthisoldsailor.AndmanyofYann'srelatives,besides,slepthere;itwasonlynatural,andshemighthaveexpectedit;nevertheless,thenameuponthetombhadmadeasadimpression.Towastealittlemoretime,sheenteredtosayaprayerundertheoldcrampedporch,wornawayanddaubedoverwithwhitewash.Butshestoppedagainwithasharppainatherheart."Gaos"--againthatname,engravedupononeoftheslabserectedinmemoryofthosewhodieatsea.Shereadthisinscription:"TotheMemoryofGAOS,JEAN-LOUIS,Aged24years;seamanonboardthe54 ANICELANDFISHERMAN/Marguerite/.DisappearedoffIceland,August3d,1877.Mayherestinpeace!"Iceland--alwaysIceland!Allovertheporchwerewoodenslabsbearingthenamesofdeadsailors.ItwastheplacereservedfortheshipwreckedofPors-Even.Filledwithadarkforebodingshewassorrytohavegonethere.InPaimpolchurchshehadseenmanysuchinscriptions;butinthisvillagetheemptytomboftheIcelandfishersseemedmoresadbecausesoloneandhumble.Oneachsideofthedoorwaywasagraniteseatforthewidowsandmothers;andthisshadyspot,irregularlyshapedlikeagrotto,wasguardedbyanoldimageoftheVirgin,colouredred,withlargestaringeyes,lookingmostlikeCybele--thefirstgoddessoftheearth."Gaos!"Again!"TotheMemoryofGAOS,FRANCOIS,HusbandofAnne-MarieleGoaster,Captainonboardthe/Paimpolais/,LostoffIceland,betweenthe1stand3dofMay,1877,Withthetwenty-threemenofhiscrew.Maytheyrestinpeace!"And,lowerdown,weretwocross-bonesunderablackskullwithgreeneyes,asimplebutghastlyemblem,remindingoneofallthebarbarismofabygoneage."Gaos,Gaos!"Thenamewaseverywhere.Assheread,thrillsofsweettendernesscameoverherforthisYannofherchoice,dampedbyafeelingofhopelessness.Nay,hewouldneverbehers!HowcouldshetearhimfromtheseawheresomanyotherGaoseshadgonedown,ancestorsandbrothers,whomusthavelovedthesealikehe!Sheenteredthechapel.Itwasalmostdark,badlylitbylowwindowswithheavyframes.Andthere,herheartfulloftearsthatwouldbetterhavefallen,sheknelttopraybeforethecolossalsaints,surroundedbycommonflowers,touchingthevaultedroofwiththeirmassiveheads.Outside,therisingwindbegantosobasifitbroughtthedeath-gaspsofthedrownedmenbacktotheirFatherland.Nightdrewnear;sheroseandwentonherway.Afterhavingaskedin55 ANICELANDFISHERMANthevillage,shefoundthehomeoftheGaosfamily,whichwasbuiltupagainstahighcliff.Adozengranitestepsleduptoit.TremblingalittleatthethoughtthatYannmighthavereturned,shecrossedthesmallgardenwherechrysanthemumsandveronicasgrew.Whenshewasindoors,sheexplainedshehadcometobringthemoneyfortheboat,andtheyverypolitelyaskedhertositdown,toawaitthefather'sreturn,ashewastheonetosignthereceiptforher.Amidstall,hereyessearchedforYann--butdidnotseehim.Theywereverybusyinthehome.Alreadytheywerecuttingoutthenewwaterproofclothonthecleanwhitetable,andgettingitreadyfortheapproachingIcelandseason."Yousee,MademoiselleGaud,it'slikethis:everymanwantstwonewsuits."Theyexplainedtoherhowtheysettoworktomakethem,andtorendertheirseamswaterproofwithtar,fortheywereforwetweatherwear.Andwhiletheyworked,GaudlookedattentivelyaroundthehomeoftheseGaoses.ItwasfurnishedafterthetraditionalmannerofallBretoncottages;animmensechimney-placetookuponewholeend,andonthesidesofthewallstheBretonbeds,bunks,asonshipboard,wereplacedoneaboveanother.Butitwasnotsosombreandsadasthecabinsofotherpeasants,whicharegenerallyhalf-hiddenbythewayside;itwasallfreshandclean,asthehomesofseamenusuallyare.SeverallittleGaoseswerethere,girlsandboys,allsistersandbrothersofYann;withoutcountingtwobigones,whowerealreadyoutatsea.And,besides,therewasalittlefairgirl,neat,butsad,unliketheothers."Weadoptedherlastyear,"explainedthemother;"wehadenoughchildrenasitwas,ofcourse,butwhatelsecouldwedo,MademoiselleGaud,forherdaddybelongedtothe/Maria-Dieu-t'aime/,lostlastseasonoffIceland,asyouknow;sotheneighboursdividedthelittleonesbetweenthem,andthisonefelltoourlot."Hearingherselfspokenof,theadoptedchildhungherprettyheadandsmiled,hidingherselfbehindlittleLaumecGaos,herfavourite.Therewasalookofcomfortallovertheplace,andradianthealth56 ANICELANDFISHERMANbloomedonallthechildren'srosycheeks.TheyreceivedGaudveryprofusely,likeagreatladywhosevisitwasanhonourtothefamily.Shewastakenupstairs,upanewly-builtwoodenstaircase,toseetheroomabove,whichwasthegloryofthehome.Sherememberedthehistoryofitsconstruction;itwasafterthefindingofaderelictvesselinthechannel,whichluckhadbefallenYann'sfatherandhiscousinthepilot.Theroomwasverygayandprettyinitswhiteness;thereweretwotownbedsinit,withpinkchintzcurtains,andalargetableinthemiddle.ThroughthewindowthewholeofPaimpolcouldbeseen,withtheIcelandersatanchoroffshore,andthechannelthroughwhichtheypassed.Shedidnotdarequestion,butshewouldhavelikedtohaveknownwhereYannslept;probablyasachildhehadsleptdownstairsinoneoftheantiquecupboard-beds.Butperhapsnowhesleptunderthosepinkdraperies.Shewouldhavelovedtohaveknownallthedetailsofhislife,especiallywhathedidinthelongwinterevenings.Aheavyfootsteponthestairsmadehertremble.ButitwasnotYann,thoughamanmuchlikehim;notwithstandinghiswhitehair,astallandasstraight.ItwasoldfatherGaosreturningfromfishing.Afterhehadsalutedherandaskedhertheobjectofhervisit,hesignedherreceiptforherwhichwasratheralongoperation,ashishandwasnotverysteady,heexplained.Buthewouldnotacceptthehundredfrancsasafinalpayment,butonlyasaninstalment;hewouldspeaktoM.Mevelagainaboutit.WhereuponGaud,towhommoneywasnothing,smiledimperceptibly;shehadfanciedthebusinesswasnotquiteterminated,andthisjustsuitedher.TheymadesomethinglikeexcusesforYann'sabsence;asiftheyfounditmoreorthodoxforthewholefamilytoassembletoreceiveher.Perhapsthefatherhadguessed,withtheshrewdnessofanoldsalt,thathissonwasnotindifferenttothisbeautifulheiress;forheratherinsistedupontalkingabouthim."It'sveryqueer,"saidhe,"theboy'sneversolateout.HewentovertoLoguivy,MademoiselleGaud,tobuysomelobsterbaskets;asyouknow,57 ANICELANDFISHERMANlobster-catchingisourmainwinterfishery."Shedreamilylengthenedouthercall,althoughconsciousthatitwastoolongalready,andfeelingatugatherheartattheideathatshewouldnotseehimafterall."Awell-conductedyoungmanlikeYann--whatcanhebedoing?Surelyhe'snotattheinn.Wedon'tfearthatforourlad.Idon'tsaythatnowandthen,ofaSunday,withhismates----Youknow,MademoiselleGaud,whatthemsailorsare.Eh!yeknow,he'sbutayoungchap,andmusthavesomelibertynowandagain.Butit'sveryrarewithhimtobreakout,forhe'sastraight-goer;wecansaythat."Butnightwasfalling,andtheworkhadbeenfoldedup.Thelittleonesonthebenchesarounddrewclosertooneanother,saddenedbythegreydismalgloaming,andeyedGaudhard,seemingtosay--"Whydoesn'tshegonow?"Onthehearth,theflamesburnedredderinthemidstofthefallingshadows."Yououghttostayandhaveabito'supperwithus,MademoiselleGaud.""Oh,no!Icouldn'tthinkofit!"Thebloodrushedtoherfaceattheideaofhavingremainedsolate.Shegotupandtookherleave.Yann'sfatheralsorosetoaccompanyherpartoftheway,anyhowasfarasalonelynookwheretheoldtreesmakeadarklane.Astheywalkedalongtogether,shefeltasuddensympathyofrespectandtendernesstowardshim;shewouldhavelikedtohavespokenastoafatherinthesuddengushesoffeelingthatcameoverher;butthewordswerestifledinherthroat,andshesaidnotaword.Andsotheywenttheirway,inthecoldeveningwind,fulloftheodourofthesea,passinghereandthere,onthebarrenheath,somepoorhovels,wherebeach-combersdweltandhadalreadysealedthemselvesupforthenight;darkandneglectedtheylookedundertheweather-beatenroofs;thesecrosses,clumpsofreeds,andboulderstheyleftbehind.WhatagreatwayoffPors-Evenwas,andwhatatimeshehadremained!NowandthentheymetfolksreturningfromPaimpolorLoguivy;and58 ANICELANDFISHERMANasshewatchedtheshadowsapproach,eachtimeshethoughtitwasYann;butitwaseasytorecognisehimatagooddistanceoff,andsoshewasquicklyundeceived.Everymomentherfeetcaughtinthebrowntrailingplants,tangledlikehair,whichweresea-weedslitteringthepathway.AttheCrossofPlouezoc'hshebadegood-byetotheoldman,andbeggedhimtoreturn.ThelightsofPaimpolwerealreadyinview,andtherewasnomoreoccasiontobeafraid.Sohopewasoverforthistime.WhocouldtellherwhenshemightseeYannagain?AnexcusetoreturntoPors-Evenwouldhavebeeneasy;butitwouldreallylooktoobadtobeginherquestalloveragain.Shewouldhavetobebraverandprouderthanthat.IfonlyherlittleconfidantSylvestrehadbeenthere,shemighthaveaskedhimtogoandfetchYann,sothattherecouldbesomeexplanation.Buthewasgonenow,andforhowmanyyears?CHAPTERIVHISRELUCTANCE"Megetmarried?"saidYanntohisparentsthatsameevening."Megetmarried?Goodheavens,whyshouldI?ShallIeverbeashappyasherewithye?notroubles,notiffswithanyone,andwarmsoupreadyformeeverynightwhenIcomehomefromsea.Oh!Iquiteunderstandthatyoumeanthegirlthatcamehereto-day,butwhat'ssucharichgirltodowithus?'Tisn'tcleartomythinking.Andit'llbeneitherher,noranyother.It'sallsettled,Iwon'tmarry--itain'ttomyliking."ThetwooldGaoseslookedatoneanotherinsilence,deeplydisappointed,for,afterhavingtalkeditovertogether,theywereprettywellsurethatthisyoungladywouldnotrefusetheirhandsomeYann.Buttheydidnottrytoargue,knowinghowuselessthatwouldbe.Themotherloweredherhead,andsaidnomore;sherespectedthewillofherson,hereldestborn,whowasallbuttheheadofthefamily;althoughhewasalwaystenderandgentlewithher,moreobedientthanachildinthepettythingsoflife,helongagohadbeenherabsolutemasterforthegreatones,eludingallrestraintwithaquietthoughsavageindependence.Heneversat59 ANICELANDFISHERMANuplate,beinginthehabit,likeotherfishermen,ofrisingbeforebreakofday.Andaftersupperateighto'clock,hehadgivenanothersatisfactorylooktohisbasketsandnewnetsfromLoguivy,andbegantoundress--calmtoallappearances,andwentuptosleepinthepink-curtainedbed,whichhesharedwithhislittlebrotherLaumec.CHAPTERVSAILORSATTHEPLAYForthelastfortnightGaud'slittleconfidant,Sylvestre,hadbeenquarteredinBrest;verymuchoutofhiselement,butveryquietandobedienttodiscipline.Heworehisopenbluesailor-collarandred-balled,flat,woollencap,withafrank,fearlesslook,andwasnobleanddignifiedinhissailorgarb,withhisfreestepandtallfigure,butatthebottomofhishearthewasstillthesameinnocentboyasever,andthinkingofhisdearoldgrandam.Oneeveninghehadgottipsytogetherwithsomeladsfromhisparts,simplybecauseitisthecustom;andtheyhadallreturnedtothebarrackstogetherarm-in-arm,singingoutaslustilyastheycould.AndoneSunday,too,theyhadallgonetothetheatre,intheuppergalleries.Amelodramawasbeingplayed,andthesailors,exasperatedagainstthevillain,greetedhimwithahowl,whichtheyallroaredtogether,likeablastoftheAtlanticcyclones.CHAPTERVIORDEREDONFOREIGNSERVICEOnedaySylvestrewassummonedbeforetheofficerofhiscompany;andtheytoldhimhewasamongthoseorderedouttoChina--inthesquadronforFormosa.Hehadbeenprettywellexpectingitforsometime,ashehadheardthosewhoreadthepaperssaythatouttherethewarseemednever-ending.Andbecauseoftheurgencyofthedeparture,hewasinformedatthe60 ANICELANDFISHERMANsametimethathewouldnotbeabletohavethecustomaryleaveforhishomefarewells;infivedays'timehewouldhavetopackupandbeoff.Thenabitterpaincameoverhim;thoughcharmedattheideaoffar-offtravelsamidtheunknownandofthewar.Therealsowasagonyatthethoughtofleavingallheknewandloved,withthevagueapprehensionthathemightnevermorereturn.Athousandnoisesranginhishead.Aroundwasthebustleofthebarrack-rooms,wherehundredsofotherswerecalledup,likehimself,chosenfortheChinesesquadron.Andrapidlyhewrotetohisoldgrandmother,withastumpofpencil,crouchingonthefloor,aloneinhisownfeverishdream,thoughinthethickofthecontinualhurryandhubbubamidstalltheyoungsailorshurriedawaylikehimself.CHAPTERVIIMOAN'SSWEETHEART"Hissweetheart'satrifleold!"saidtheothers,acoupleofdayslater,astheylaughedafterSylvestreandhisgrandmother,"buttheyseemtogetonfinetogetherallthesame."Itamusedthemtoseetheboy,forthefirsttime,walkthroughthestreetsofRecouvrance,withawomanathisside,liketherestofthem;and,bendingtowardsherwithatenderlook,whisperwhatseemedtobeverysoftnothings.Shewasaveryquick,diminutivepersonseenfrombehind,withrathershortskirtsforthefashionoftheday;andascantybrownshawl,andahighPaimpol/coiffe/.She,too,hangingonhisarm,turnedtowardshimwithanaffectionateglance."Atrifleoldwashissweetheart!"That'swhattheotherscalledafterhim,wesay,butwithoutspite,foranyonecouldseethatshewashisoldgranny,comeupfromthecountry.Shehadcome,too,inahurry,suddenlyterrifiedatthenewsofhissuddendeparture;forthisChinesewarhadalreadycostPaimpolmanysailors.Soshehadscrapedtogetherallherpoorlittlesavings,putherbestSundaydressandafreshclean/coiffe/inabox,andhadsetouttokisshimonce61 ANICELANDFISHERMANagain.Shehadgonestraighttothebarrackstoaskforhim;atfirsthisadjutanthadrefusedtolethimgoout."Ifyou'veanythingtosay,mygoodwoman,goandspeaktothecaptainyourself.Thereheis,passing."Soshecalmlywalkeduptohim,andheallowedhimselftobewonover."SendMoantochangehisclothes,togoout,"saidhe.AllinhothasteMoanhadgonetorigupinhisbestattire,whilethegoodoldlady,tomakehimlaugh,ofcourse,madeamostinimitablydrollfaceandamockcurtseyattheadjutantbehindhisback.Butwhenthegrandsonappearedinhisfulluniform,withtheinevitableturned-downcollar,leavinghisthroatbare,shewasquitestruckwithhisbeauty;hisblackbeardwascutintoaseamanlyfashionablepointbythebarber,andhiscapwasdeckedoutwithlongfloatingribbons,withagoldenanchorateachend.ForthemomentshealmostsawinhimhersonPierre,who,twentyyearsbefore,hadalsobeenasailorinthenavy,andtheremembranceofthefarpast,withallitsdead,stealthilyshadowedthepresenthour.Butthesadnesssoonpassedaway.Arm-in-armtheystrolledon,happytobetogether;anditwasthenthattheothershadpretendedtoseeinherhissweetheart,andvotedher"atrifleold."Shehadtakenhim,foratreat,todineinaninnkeptbysomepeoplefromPaimpol,whichhadbeenrecommendedtoherasrathercheap.Andthen,stillarm-in-arm,theyhadsaunteredthroughBrest,lookingattheshop-windows.Thereneverweresuchfunnystoriestoldasthoseshetoldhergrandsontomakehimlaugh;ofcourseallinPaimpolBreton,sothatthepassers-bymightnotunderstand.CHAPTERVIIIOLDANDYOUNGShestayedthreedayswithhim,threehappydays,thoughoverthemhungadarkandominousforecast;onemightaswellcallthemthreedays62 ANICELANDFISHERMANofrespite.AtlastshewasforcedtoreturntoPloubazlanec,forshehadcometotheendofherlittlesavings,andSylvestrewastoembarkthedayafterward.Thesailorsarealwaysinexorablykeptinbarracksthedaybeforeforeigncruises(acustomthatseemsratherbarbarousatfirst,butwhichisanecessaryprecautionagainstthe"flings"theywouldhavebeforeleavingdefinitely).Ohthatlastday!Shehaddoneherverybesttohatchupsomemorefunnystoriesinherhead,totellherboyjustattheparting;butshehadrememberednothing--no;onlytearshadwelledup,andateverymomentsobschokedher.Hangingonhisarm,sheremindedhimofathousandthingshewasnottoforgettodo,andhealsotriedhardtorepresshistears.Theyhadendedbygoingintoachurchtosaytheirprayerstogether.Itwasbythenighttrainthatshewent.Tosaveafewpence,theyhadgoneonfoottothestation;hecarryingherbox,andholdingheronhisstrongarm,uponwhichsheweighedheavily.Shewassovery,verytired--pooroldlady!Shehadscarcelyanystrengthleftaftertheexertionofthelastthreeorfourdays.Hershoulderswerebentunderherbrownshawl,andshehadnoforcetobearherselfup;heryoungishlookwasgone,andshefelttheweightofherseventy-sixyears.Oh!howherheartachedatthethoughtthatitwasallover,andthatinafewmomentsshemustleavehim!Washereallytogooutsofar,toChina,perhapstoslaughter.Shestillhadhimtherewithher,quiteclose,herpoorhandscouldyetgrasphim--andyethemustgo;allthestrengthofherwill,allhertears,andallhergreatheartrendingdespair--all!wouldnothingbeofavailtokeephimback?Withherticket,andherlunch-basket,andhermittensinhergrasp,agitated,shegavehimherlastblessingandadvice,andheansweredherwithanobedient"Ay,ay,"bendinghisheadtenderlytowardsherandgazinglovinglyather,inhissoftchildishway."Nowthen,oldlady,youmustmakeupyourmindplagueyquickifyouwanttogobythistrain!"Theenginewhistled.Suddenlyterrifiedattheideaoflosingthetrain,63 ANICELANDFISHERMANsheboreherboxfromSylvestre'sgrasp,andflingingitdown,threwherarmsroundhisneckinalastandsupremeembrace.Manypeopleontheplatformstaredatthem,butnotonesmiled.Hustledaboutbytheporters,wornoutandfullofpain,shepressedintothefirstcarriagenear;thedoorwasbangedquicklyuponher,whileSylvestre,withallthespeedofayoungsailor,rushedoutofthestationtotherailsbesidethelinetoseethetrainpass.Ashrillscreechingwhistle,anoisygrindingofthewheels,andhisgrandmotherpassedaway,leavinghimleaningagainstthegateandswinginguphiscapwithitsflyingribbons,whileshe,hangingoutofthewindowofherthird-classcarriage,madeanansweringsignalwithherhandkerchief;andforaslongasshecouldseethedarkblue-cladfigure,thatwasherchild,followedhimwithhereyes,throwingherwholesoulintothat"good-bye!"keptbacktothelast,andalwaysuncertainofrealizationwhensailorsareconcerned.LooklongatyourlittleSylvestre,pooroldwoman;untiltheverylatestmoment,donotlosesightofhisfleetingshadow,whichisfadingawayforever.Whenshecouldseehimnolonger,shefellback,completelycrushingherstillcleanunrumpledcap,weepingandsobbingintheagonyofdeathitself.Hehadturnedawayslowly,withhisheadbent,andbigtearsfallingdownhischeeks.Theautumnnighthadclosedin;everywherethegaswasflaring,andthesailors'riotousfeastshadbegunanew.Payingnoheedtoanythingabouthim,hepassedthroughBrestandovertheRecouvranceBridge,tothebarracks."Whist!here,youdarlingboy!"calledoutsomenocturnalprowlerstohim;buthepassedon,andenteringthebarracks,flunghimselfdowninhishammock,weeping,allalone,andhardlysleepinguntildawn.CHAPTERIXTHEEASTERNVOYAGESylvestrewassoonoutontheocean,rapidlywhiskedawayoverthe64 ANICELANDFISHERMANunknownseas,farmorebluethanIceland's.TheshipthatcarriedhimofftotheconfinesofAsiawasorderedtogoatfullspeedandstopnowhere.Erelonghefeltthathewasfaraway,forthespeedwasunceasing,andevenwithoutacarefortheseaorthewind.Ashewasatopman,helivedperchedaloft,likeabird,avoidingthesoldierscrowdeduponthedeck.Twicetheystopped,however,onthecoastofTunis,totakeupmoreZouavesandmules;fromafarhehadperceivedthewhitecitiesamidsandsandaridhills.Hehadevencomedownfromhistoptolookatthedark-brownmendrapedintheirwhiterobeswhocameoffinsmallboatstopeddlefruit;hismatestoldhimthatthesewereBedouins.Theheatandthesun,whichwereunlessenedbytheautumnseason,madehimfeeloutofhiselement.OnedaytheytouchedatPortSaid.AlltheflagsofEuropewavedoverheadfromlongstaves,whichgaveitanaspectofBabelonafeast-day,andtheglisteningsandssurroundedthetownlikeamovingsea.Theyhadstoppedthere,touchingthequays,almostinthemidstofthelongstreetsfullofwoodenshanties.Sincehisdeparture,Sylvestreneverhadseentheoutsideworldsoclosely,andthemovementandnumbersofboatsexcitedandamusedhim.Withnever-endingscreechingfromtheirescape-pipes,alltheseboatscrowdedupinthelongcanal,asnarrowasaditch,whichwounditselfinasilverylinethroughtheinfinitesands.Fromhispostonhighhecouldseethemasinaprocessionunderawindow,tilldisappearingintheplain.Onthecanalallkindsofcostumescouldbeseen;meninmany-colouredattire,busyandshoutinglikethunder.Andatnighttheclamourofconfusedbandsofmusicmingledwiththediabolicalscreamsofthelocomotives,playingnoisytunes,asiftodrowntheheart-breakingsorrowoftheexileswhoforeverpassedonward.Thenextday,atsunrise,they,too,glidedintothenarrowribbonofwaterbetweenthesands.Fortwodaysthesteaminginthelongfilethroughthedesertlasted,thenanotherseaopenedbeforethem,andtheywereonceagainupontheopen.Theystillranatfullspeedthroughthiswarmerexpanse,stainedlikeredmarble,withtheirboilingwakelikeblood.Sylvestreremainedallthetimeupinhistop,wherehewouldhum65 ANICELANDFISHERMANhisoldsongof"Jean-FrancoisdeNantes,"toremindhimofhisdearbrotherYann,ofIceland,andthegoodoldbygonedays.Sometimes,inthedepthsoftheshadowydistance,somewonderfullytintedmountainwouldarise.Notwithstandingthedistanceandthedimnessaround,thenamesofthoseprojectedcapesofcountriesappearedastheeternallandmarksonthegreatroadwaysoftheearthtothesteersmenofthisvessel;butatopmaniscarriedonlikeaninanimatething,knowingnothing,andunconsciousofthedistanceovertheeverlasting,endlesswaves.Allhefeltwasaterribleestrangementfromthethingsofthisworld,whichgrewgreaterandgreater;andthefeelingwasverydefinedandexactashelookedupontheseethingfoambehind,andtriedtorememberhowlonghadlastedthispacethatneverslackenednightorday.Downondeck,thecrowdofmen,huddledtogetherintheshadowoftheawnings,pantedwithweariness.Thewaterandtheair,eventheverylightabove,hadadull,crushingsplendour;andthefadelessgloryofthoseelementswereasaverymockeryofthehumanbeingswhosephysicallivesaresoephemeral.Once,upinhiscrow'snest,hewasgladdenedbythesightofflocksoftinybirds,ofanunknownspecies,whichfellupontheshiplikeawhirlwindofcoaldust.Theyallowedthemselvestobetakenandstroked,beingwornoutwithfatigue.Allthesailorshadthemaspetsupontheirshoulders.Butsoonthemostexhaustedamongthembegantodie,andbeforelongtheydiedbythousandsontherigging,yards,ports,andsails--poorlittlethings!--undertheblastingsunoftheRedSea.Theyhadcometodestruction,offtheGreatDesert,fleeingbeforeasandstorm.Andthroughfearoffallingintothebluewatersthatstretchedonallsides,theyhadendedtheirlastfeebleflightuponthepassingship.Overyonder,insomedistantregionofLibya,theyhadbeenfledgedinmasses.Indeed,thereweresomanyofthem,thattheirblindandunkindmother,Nature,haddrivenawaybeforeherthissurplus,asunmovedasiftheyhadbeensuperabundantmen.Onthescorchingfunnelsandironworkoftheshiptheydiedaway;thedeckwasstrewnwiththeirpunyforms,onlyyesterdaysofulloflife,songs,andlove.Now,poorlittleblackdots,Sylvestreand66 ANICELANDFISHERMANtheotherspickedthemup,spreadingouttheirdelicatebluewings,withalookofpity,andsweptthemoverboardintotheabysmalsea.Nextcamehostsoflocusts,thespawnofthoseconjuredupbyMoses,andtheshipwascoveredwiththem.Atlength,though,itsurgedonalifelessbluesea,wheretheysawnothingsaroundthem,exceptfromtimetotimetheflyingfishskimmingalongthelevelwater.CHAPTERXTHEORIENTRainintorrents,underaheavyblacksky.ThiswasIndia.Sylvestrehadjustsetfootuponland,chanceselectinghimtocompletethecrewofawhaleboat.Hefeltthewarmshoweruponhimthroughthethickfoliage,andlookedaround,surprisedatthenovelsight.Allwasmagnificentlygreen;theleavesofthetreeswavedlikegiganticfeathers,andthepeoplewalkingbeneaththemhadlargevelvetyeyes,whichseemedtocloseundertheweightoftheirlashes.Theverywindthatbroughttherainhadtheodourofmuskandflowers.Atadistance,duskygirlsbeckonedhimtocometothem.Somehappystraintheysang,likethe"Whist!here,youdarlingboy!"sooftenheardatBrest.Butseductiveaswastheircountry,theircallwasimperiousandexasperating,makinghisveryfleshshudder.Theirperfectbosomsroseandfellundertransparentmuslin,inwhichtheyweresolelydraped;theywereglowingandpolishedasinbronzestatues.Hesitating,fascinatedbythem,hewaveredabout,followingthem;buttheboatswain'ssharpshrillwhistlerenttheairwithbird-liketrills,summoninghimhurriedlybacktohisboat,abouttopushoff.Hetookhisflight,andbadefarewelltoIndia'sbeauties.Afterasecondweekofthebluesea,theypausedoffanotherlandofdewyverdure.Acrowdofyellowmenappeared,yellingoutandpressingondeck,bringingcoalinbaskets."AlreadyinChina?"askedSylvestre,atthesightofthosegrotesquefiguresinpigtails."Blessyou,no,notyet,"theytoldhim;"havealittlemorepatience."67 ANICELANDFISHERMANItwasonlySingapore.Hewentupintohismast-topagain,toavoidtheblackdusttossedaboutbythebreeze,whilethecoalwasfeverishlyheapedupinthebunkersfromlittlebaskets.Oneday,atlength,theyarrivedoffalandcalledTourane,wherethe/Circe/wasanchored,toblockadetheport.ThiswastheshiptowhichSylvestrehadbeenlongagoassigned,andhewaslefttherewithhisbag.Onboardhemetwithtwomatesfromhome,Icelanders,whowerecaptainsofgunsforthetimebeing.Throughthelong,hot,stillevenings,whentherewasnoworktobedone,theyclusteredondeckapartfromtheothers,toformtogetheralittleBrittanyofremembrances.Fivemonthshepassedthereininactionandexile,lockedupinthecheerlessbay,withthefeverishdesiretogooutandfightandslay,forchange'ssake.CHAPTERXIACURIOUSRENCONTREInPaimpolagain,onthelastdayofFebruary,beforethesetting-outforIceland.Gaudwasstandingupagainstherroomdoor,paleandstill.ForYannwasbelow,chattingtoherfather.Shehadseenhimcomein,andindistinctlyheardhisvoice.Allthroughthewintertheyneverhadmet,asifsomeinvinciblefatealwayshadkeptthemapart.AfterthefailuretofindhiminherwalktoPors-Even,shehadplacedsomehopeonthe/PardondesIslandais/wheretherewouldbemanychancesforthemtoseeandtalktooneanother,inthemarket-placeatdusk,amongthecrowd.Butontheverymorningoftheholiday,thoughthestreetswerealreadydrapedinwhiteandstrewnwithgreengarlands,ahardrainhadfallenintorrents,broughtfromthewestbyasoughingwind;neverhadsoblackaskyshadowedPaimpol."Whatapity!theboyswon'tcomeoverfromPloubazlanecnow,"hadmoanedthelasses,whosesweetheartsdweltthere.Andtheydidnotcome,orelsehadgonestraightintothetavernstodrinktogether.68 ANICELANDFISHERMANTherehadbeennoprocessionsorstrolls,andshe,withherheartachingmorethanever,hadremainedatherwindowthewholeeveninglisteningtothewaterstreamingovertheroofs,andthefishers'noisysongsrisingandfallingoutofthedepthsofthetaverns.Forthelastfewdaysshehadbeenexpectingthisvisit,surmisingtrulythatoldGaoswouldsendhissontoterminatethebusinessconcerningthesaleoftheboat,ashedidnotcaretocomeintoPaimpolhimself.Shedeterminedthenthatshewouldgostraighttohim,and,unlikeothergirls,speakoutfrankly,tohaveherconscienceclearonthesubject.Shewouldreproachhimwithhavingsoughtheroutandhavingabandonedherlikeamanwithouthonour.Ifitwereonlystubbornness,timidity,hisgreatloveforhissailor-life,orsimplythefearofarefusal,asSylvestrehadhinted,why,alltheseobjectionswoulddisappear,afterafrank,fairunderstandingbetweenthem.Hisfondsmilemightreturn,whichhadcharmedandwonherthewinterbefore,andallwouldbesettled.Thishopegaveherstrengthandcourage,andsweetenedherimpatience.Fromafar,thingsalwaysappearsoeasyandsimpletosayandtodo.ThisvisitofYann'sfellbychanceataconvenienthour.Shewassurethatherfather,whowassittingandsmoking,wouldnotgetuptowalkpartofthewaywithhim;sointheemptypassageshemighthaveherexplanationoutwithhim.Butnowthatthetimehadcome,suchboldnessseemedextreme.Thebareideaoflookinghimfacetofaceatthefootofthosestairs,madehertremble;andherheartbeatasifitwouldbreak.Atanymomentthedoorbelowmightopen,withthesqueaksheknewsowell,tolethimout!"No,no,sheneverwoulddare;ratherwouldshedieoflongingandsorrow,thanattemptsuchanact."Shealreadymadeafewreturnstepstowardsthebackofherroom,toregainherseatandwork.Butshestoppedagain,hesitatingandafraid,rememberingthatto-morrowwasthesailingdayforIceland,andthatthisoccasionstoodalone.Ifsheletitslipby,shewouldhavetowaitthroughmonthsuponmonthsofsolitudeanddespair,languishingforhisreturn--losinganotherwholesummerofherlife.Below,thedooropened--Yannwascomingout!Suddenlyresolute,sherusheddownstairs,andtremblinglystood69 ANICELANDFISHERMANbeforehim."MonsieurYann,I--Iwishtospeaktoyou,please.""Tome,MademoiselleGaud?"queriedhe,loweringhisvoiceandsnatchingoffhishat.Helookedatherfiercely,withahardexpressioninhisflashingeyes,andhisheadthrownback,seemingeventowonderifheoughttostopforheratall.Withonefootreadytostartaway,hestoodstraightupagainstthewall,asiftobeasfarapartfromheraspossible,inthenarrowpassage,wherehefeltimprisoned.Paralyzed,shecouldremembernothingofwhatshehadwishedtosay;shehadnotthoughthewouldtryandpassonwithoutlisteningtoher.Whatanaffront!"Doesourhousefrightenyou,MonsieurYann?"sheasked,inadry,oddtone--notatalltheoneshewishedtouse.Heturnedhiseyesaway,lookingoutside;hischeeksblazedred,arushofbloodburnedallhisface,andhisquiveringnostrilsdilatedwitheverybreath,keepingtimewiththeheavingsofhischest,likeayoungbull's."Thenightoftheball,"shetriedtocontinue,"whenweweretogether,youbademegood-bye,notasamanspeakstoanindifferentperson.MonsieurYann,haveyounomemory?WhathaveIdonetovexyou?"ThenastywesternbreezeblowinginfromthestreetruffledhishairandthefrillsofGaud's/coiffe/,andbehindthemadoorwasbangedfuriously.Thepassagewasnotmeetfortalkingofseriousmattersin.Afterthesefirstphrases,choking,Gaudremainedspeechless,feelingherheadspin,andwithoutideas.Theystilladvancedtowardsthestreetdoor;heseemedsoanxioustogetaway,andshewassodeterminednottobeshakenoff.Outsidethewindblewnoisilyandtheskywasblack.Asadlividlightfellupontheirfacesthroughtheopendoor.Andanoppositeneighbourlookedatthem:whatcouldthepairbesayingtooneanotherinthatpassagetogether,lookingsotroubled?WhatwaswrongoverattheMevel's?"Nay,MademoiselleGaud,"heansweredatlast,turningawaywiththepowerfulgraceofayounglion,"I'veheardfolkstalkaboutusquite70 ANICELANDFISHERMANenoughalready!Nay,MademoiselleGaud,for,yousee,youarerich,andwearenotpeopleofthesameclass.Iamnotthefellowtocomeaftera'swell'lady."Hewentforthonhisway.Sonowallwasoverforeverandever.Shehadnotevensaidwhatshewishedinthatinterview,whichhadonlymadeherseemaveryboldgirlinhissight.WhatkindofafellowwasthisYann,withhiscontemptforwomen,hisscornformoney,andalldesirablethings?Atfirstsheremainedfixedtothespot,sickwithgiddiness,asthingsswamaroundher.Oneintolerablypainfulthoughtsuddenlystruckherlikeaflashoflightning--Yann'scomrades,theIcelanders,werewaitingforhimbelowinthemarket-place.Whatifheweretotellthemthisasagoodjoke--whatastillmoreodiousaffrontuponher!Shequicklyreturnedtoherroomtowatchthemthroughherwindow-curtains.Beforethehouse,indeed,shesawthemenassembled,buttheyweresimplycontemplatingtheweather,whichwasbecomingworseandworse,anddiscussedthethreateningrain."It'llonlybeashower.Let'sgoinanddrinkawaythetime,tillitpasses."TheypokedjokesandlaughedloudlyoverJeannieCaroffandotherbeauties;butnotevenoneofthemlookedupat/her/window.Theywerealljoyful,exceptYann,whosaidnothing,andremainedgraveandsad.Hedidnotgointodrinkwiththem;andwithoutnoticingeitherthemortherain,whichhadbeguntofall,heslowlywalkedawayundertheshower,asifabsorbedinhisthoughts,crossingthemarket-placetowardsPloubazlanec.Thensheforgavehimall,andafeelingofhopelesstendernessforhimcame,insteadofthebitterdisappointmentthatpreviouslyhadfilledherheart.Shesatdownandheldherheadbetweenherhands.Whatcouldshedonow?Oh!ifhehadlistenedonlyamomenttoher,orifhecouldcomeintothatroom,wheretheymightspeaktogetheralone,perhapsallmightyetbearranged.Shelovedhimenoughtotellhimsotohisface.Shewouldsaytohim:"YousoughtmeoutwhenIaskedyoufornothing;nowIamyours71 ANICELANDFISHERMANwithmywholesoul,ifyouwillhaveme.Idon'tmindabitbeingthewifeofafisherman,andyet,ifIliked,IneedbutchooseamongalltheyoungmenofPaimpol;butIdoloveyou,because,notwithstandingall,Ibelieveyoutobebetterthanothers.I'mtolerablywell-to-do,andIknowIampretty;althoughIhavelivedintowns,IamsurethatIamnotaspoiledgirl,asIneverhavedoneanythingwrong;then,ifIloveyouso,whyshouldn'tyoutakeme?"Butallthisneverwouldbesaidexceptindreams;itwastoolate!Yannwouldnothearher.Tryandtalktohimasecondtime?Oh,no!whatkindofacreaturewouldhetakeherthentobe?Shewouldratherdie.Yetto-morrowtheywouldallstartforIceland.ThewhitishFebruarydaylightstreamedintoherfineroom.Chillandlonelyshefellupononeofthechairsalongthewall.Itseemedtoherasifthewholeworldwerecrashingandfallinginaroundher.Allthingspastandpresentwereasifburiedinafearfulabyss,whichyawnedonallsidesofher.Shewishedherlifewouldend,andthatshewerelyingcalmbeneathsomecoldtombstone,wherenomorepainmighttouchher.Butshehadsincerelyforgivenhim,andnohatredmingledwithherdesperatelove.CHAPTERXIISTRIKINGTHEROCKUNKNOWNThesea,thegrayseaoncemore,whereYannwasgentlyglidingalongitsbroad,tracklessroad,thatleadsthefishermeneveryyeartotheLandofIce.Thedaybefore,whentheyallhadsetofftothemusicoftheoldhymns,thereblewabriskbreezefromthesouth,andalltheshipswiththeiroutspreadsailshaddispersedlikesomanygulls;butthatbreezehadsuddenlysubsided,andspeedhaddiminished;greatfog-bankscoveredthewaterysurface.Yannwasperhapsquieterthanusual.Hesaidthattheweatherwastoocalm,andappearedtoexcitehimself,asifhewoulddriveawaysomecare72 ANICELANDFISHERMANthatweigheduponhim.Buthehadnothingtodobutbecarriedserenelyinthemidstofserenethings;onlytobreatheandlethimselflive.Onlookingout,onlythedeepgraymassesaroundcouldbeseen;onlistening,onlysilence.Suddenlytherewasanalmostimperceptiblerumbling,whichcamefrombelow,accompaniedbyagrindingsensation,aswhenabrakecomesharddownoncarriagewheels.The/Marie/ceasedallmovement.Theyhadstruck.Where,andonwhat?SomebankofftheEnglishcoastprobably.Forsinceovernighttheyhadbeenabletoseenothing,withthosecurtainsofmist.Themenranandrushedabout,theirbustlecontrastingstronglywiththesuddenrigidityoftheirship.Howhadthe/Marie/cometoastopinthatspot?Inthemidstofthatimmensityoffluidinthisdullweather,seemingtobealmostwithoutconsistence,shehadbeenseizedbysomeresistlessimmovablepowerhiddenbeneaththewaves;shewastightinitsgrasp,andmightperishthere.Whohasnotseenpoorbirdscaughtbytheirfeetinthelime?Atfirsttheycanscarcelybelievetheyarecaught;itchangesnothingintheiraspect;buttheysoonaresurethattheyareheldfast,andindangerofnevergettingfreeagain.Andwhentheystruggletogetfree,andthestickystuffsoilstheirwingsandheads,theygraduallyassumethatpitifullookofadumbcreatureindistress,abouttodie.Suchwasthecasewiththe/Marie/.Atfirstitdidnotseemmuchtobeconcernedabout;shecertainlywascareenedalittleononeside,butitwasbroadmorning,andtheweatherwasfairandcalm;onehadtoknowsuchthingsbyexperiencetobecomeuneasy,andunderstandthatitwasaseriousmatter.Thecaptainwastobepitied.Itwashisfault,ashehadnotunderstoodexactlywheretheywere.Hewrunghishands,saying:"Godhelpus!Godhelpus!"inavoiceofdespair.Closetothem,duringaliftingofthefog,theycoulddistinguishaheadland,butnotrecognizeit.Butthemistscovereditanew,andtheysawitnolonger.Therewasnosailorsmokeinsight.Theyalljostledabout,hurryingandknockingthedecklumberover.TheirdogTurc,whodidnotusually73 ANICELANDFISHERMANmindthemovementofthesea,wasgreatlyaffectedtoobythisincident,thesesoundsfromdownbelow,theseheavywallowingswhenthelowswellpassedunder,andthesuddencalmthatafterwardsfollowed;heunderstoodthatallthiswasunusual,andhidhimselfawayincorners,withhistailbetweenhislegs.Theygotouttheboatstocarrythekedgesandsetthemfirm,andtriedtorowheroutofitbyunitingalltheirforcestogetheruponthetow-lines--aheavypieceofworkthis,whichlastedtensuccessivehours.So,wheneveningcame,thepoorbark,whichhadonlythatmorningbeensofreshandlight,lookedalmostswamped,fouled,andgoodfornothing.Shehadfoughthard,flounderedaboutonallsides,butstillremainedthere,fixedasinadock.Nightwasovertakingthem;thewindandthewaveswererising;thingsweregrowingworse,when,allofasudden,towardssixo'clock,theywereletgoclear,andcouldbeoffagain,tearingasunderthetow-lines,whichtheyhadlefttokeepherheadsteady.Themenwept,rushingaboutlikemadmen,cheeringfromstemtostern--"We'reafloat,boys!"Theywereafloat,withajoythatcannotbedescribed;whatitwastofeelthemselvesgoingforwardsonabuoyantcraftagain,insteadofonthesemi-wreckitwasbefore,nonebutaseamanfeels,andfewofthemcantell.Yann'ssadnesshaddisappearedtoo.Likehisship,hebecamelivelyoncemore,curedbythehealthymanuallabour;hehadfoundhisrecklesslookagain,andhadthrownoffhisglumthoughts.Nextmorning,whenthekedgeswerefishedup,the/Marie/wentonherwaytoIceland,andYann'sheart,toallappearance,wasasfreeasinhisearlyyears.CHAPTERXIIIHOMENEWSThehomeletterswerebeingdistributedonboardthe/Circe/,atanchoratHa-Long,overontheothersideoftheearth.Inthemidstofagroupofsailors,thepursercalledout,inaloudvoice,thenamesofthefortunatemenwhohadletterstoreceive.Thiswentonatevening,ontheship'sside,74 ANICELANDFISHERMANallcrushingroundafunnel."Moan,Sylvestre!"Therewasoneforhim,postmarked"Paimpol,"butitwasnotGaud'swriting.Whatdidthatmean?fromwhomdiditcomeelse?Afterhavingturnedandflourisheditabout,heopeneditfearingly,andread:"PLOUBAZLANEC,March5th,1884."MYDEARGRANDSON:"So,itwasfromhisdearoldgranny.Hebreathedfreeagain.Atthebottomofthelettersheevenhadplacedhersignature,learnedbyheart,buttremblinglikeaschool-girl'sscribble:"WidowMoan.""WidowMoan!"Withaquickspontaneousmovementhecarriedthepapertohislipsandkissedthepoorname,asasacredrelic.Forthisletterarrivedatacriticalmomentofhislife;to-morrowatdawn,hewastosetoutforthebattlefield.ItwasinthemiddleofApril;Bac-NinhandHong-Hoahadjustbeentaken.TherewasnogreatwarfaregoingoninTonquin,yetthereinforcementsarrivingwerenotsufficient;sailorsweretakenfromalltheshipstomakeupthedeficitinthecorpsalreadydisembarked.Sylvestre,whohadlanguishedsolonginthemidstofcruisesandblockades,hadjustbeenselectedwithsomeotherstofillupthevacancies.Itistruethatnowpeacewasspokenof,butsomethingtoldthemthattheyyetwoulddisembarckingoodtimetofightabit.Theypackedtheirbags,madealltheirotherpreparations,andsaidgood-bye,andalltheeveningthroughtheystrolledaboutwiththeirunfortunatemateswhohadtoremain,feelingmuchgranderandprouderthanthey.Eachinhisownwayshowedhisimpressionatthisdeparture--someweregraveandserious,othersexuberantandtalkative.Sylvestrewasveryquietandthoughtful,thoughimpatient;only,whentheylookedathim,hissmileseemedtosay,"Yes,I'moneofthefightingparty,andhuzza!theactionisforto-morrowmorning!"Ofgunshotsandbattleheformedbutanincompleteideaasyet;buttheyfascinatedhim,forhecameofavaliantrace.ThestrangewritingofhislettermadehimanxiousaboutGaud,andhe75 ANICELANDFISHERMANdrewnearaportholetoreadtheepistlethrough.Itwasdifficultamidallthosehalf-nakedmenpressinground,intheunbearableheatofthegundeck.Ashethoughtshewoulddo,inthebeginningofherletterGrannyMoanexplainedwhyshehadhadtotakerecoursetotheinexperiencedhandofanoldneighbour:"Mydearchild,Idon'taskyourcousintowriteformeto-day,assheisingreattrouble.Herfatherdiedsuddenlytwodaysago.ItappearsthathiswholefortunehasbeenlostthroughunluckygamblinglastwinterinParis.Sohishouseandfurniturewillhavetobesold.Nobodyintheplacewasexpectingthis.Ithink,dearchild,thatthiswillpainyouasmuchasitdoesme."Gaos,theson,sendsyouhiskindremembrance;hehasrenewedhisarticleswithCaptainGuermeurofthe/Marie/,andthedepartureforIcelandwasratherearlythisyear,fortheysetsailonthefirstofthemonth,twodaysbeforeourpoorGaud'strouble,andhedon'tknowofityet."Butyoucaneasilyimaginethatweshallnotgetthemwednow,forshewillbeobligedtoworkforherdailybread."Sylvestredweltstupor-stricken;thisbadnewsquitespoiledhisgleeatgoingouttofight.76 ANICELANDFISHERMANPARTIIIINTHESHADOWCHAPTERITHESKIRMISHHark!abullethurtlesthroughtheair!Sylvestrestopsshorttolisten!Heisuponaninfinitemeadow,greenwiththesoftvelvetcarpetofspring.Theskyisgray,lowering,asiftoweighuponone'sveryshoulders.Theyaresixsailorsreconnoitringamongthefreshrice-fields,inamuddypathway.Hist!againthewhizz,breakingthesilenceoftheair--ashrill,continuoussound,akindofprolonged/zing/,givingoneastrongimpressionthatthepelletsbuzzingbymighthavestungfatally.ForthefirsttimeinhislifeSylvestrehearsthatmusic.Thebulletscomingtowardsamanhaveadifferentsoundfromthosefiredbyhimself:thefar-offreportisattenuated,ornotheardatall,soitiseasiertodistinguishthesharprushofmetalasitswiftlypassesby,almostgrazingone'sears.Crack!whizz!ping!againandyetagain!Theballsfallinregularshowersnow.Closebythesailorstheystopshort,andareburiedinthefloodedsoiloftherice-fields,accompaniedbyafaintsplash,likehailfallingsharpandswiftinapuddleofwater.Themarineslookedatoneanotherasifitwasallapieceofoddfun,andsaid:"OnlyJohnChinaman!pish!"Tothesailors,Annamites,Tonquinese,or"BlackFlags"areallofthesameChinesefamily.Itisdifficulttoshowtheircontemptandmockingrancour,aswellaseagernessfor"bowlingoverthebeggars,"whentheyspeakof"theChinese."Twoorthreebulletsarestillflyingabout,morecloselygrazing;they77 ANICELANDFISHERMANcanbeseenbouncinglikegrasshoppersinthegreen.Theslightshowerofleaddidnotlastlong.Perfectsilencereturnstothebroadverdantplain,andnowherecananythingbeseenmoving.Thesamesixarestillthere,standingonthewatch,scentingthebreeze,andtryingtodiscoverwhencethevolleycame.Surelyfromoveryonder,bythatclumpofbamboos,whichlookslikeanislandoffeathersintheplain;behinditseveralpointedroofsappearhalfhidden.Sotheyallmadeforit,theirfeetslippingorsinkingintothesoakedsoil.Sylvestrerunsforemost,onhislonger,morenimblelegs.Nomorebuzzofbullets;theymighthavethoughttheyweredreaming.Asinallthecountriesoftheworld,somefeaturesarethesame;thecloudygrayskiesandthefreshtintsoffieldsinspring-time,forexample;onecouldimaginethisuponFrenchmeadows,andtheseyoungfellows,runningmerrilyoverthem,playingaverydifferentsportfromthisgameofdeath.Butastheyapproach,thebamboosshowtheexoticdelicacyoftheirfoliage,andthevillageroofsgrowsharperinthesingularityoftheircurves,andyellowmenhiddenbehindadvancetoreconnoitre;theirflatfacesarecontractedbyfearandspitefulness.Thensuddenlytheyrushoutscreaming,anddeployintoalongline,trembling,butdecidedanddangerous."TheChinese!"shoutthesailorsagain,withtheirsamebravesmile.Butthistimetheyfindthatthereareagoodmany--toomany;andoneofthemturningroundperceivesotherChinesecomingfrombehind,springingupfromthelongtallgrass.Atthismoment,youngSylvestrecameoutgrand;hisoldgrannywouldhavebeenproudtoseehimsuchawarrior.Sincethelastfewdayshehadaltered.Hisfacewasbronzed,andhisvoicestrengthened.Hewasinhisownelementhere.Inamomentofsupremeindecisionthesailorshitbythebulletsalmostyieldedtoanimpulseofretreat,whichwouldcertainlyhavebeendeathtothemall;butSylvestrecontinuedtoadvance,clubbinghisrifle,andfightingawholeband,knockingthemdownrightandleftwithsmashingblowsfromthebutt-end.Thankstohimthesituationwasreversed;that78 ANICELANDFISHERMANpanicormadnessthatblindlydeceivesallintheseleaderlessskirmisheshadnowpassedovertotheChineseside,anditwastheywhobegantoretreat.Itwassoonallover;theywerefairlytakingtotheirheels.Thesixsailors,reloadingtheirrepeatingrifles,shotthemdowneasily;uponthegrasslaydeadbodiesbyredpools,andskullswereemptyingtheirbrainsintotheriver.Theyfled,coweringlikeleopards.Sylvestreranafterthem,althoughhehadtwowounds--alance-thrustinthethighandadeepgashinhisarm;butfeelingnothingsavetheintoxicationofbattle,thatunreasoningfeverthatcomesofvigorousblood,givesloftycouragetosimplesouls,andmadetheheroesofantiquity.Onewhomhewaspursuingturnedround,andwithaspasmofdesperateterrortookadeliberateaimathim.Sylvestrestoppedshort,smilingscornfully,sublime,tolethimfire,andseeingthedirectionoftheaim,onlyshiftedalittletotheleft.ButwiththepressureuponthetriggerthebarreloftheChinesejingaldeviatedslightlyinthesamedirection.Hesuddenlyfeltasmartrapuponhisbreast,andinaflashofthoughtunderstoodwhatitwas,evenbeforefeelinganypain;heturnedtowardstheothersfollowing,andtriedtocryouttothemthetraditionalphraseoftheoldsoldier,"Ithinkit'sallupwithme!"Inthegreatbreaththatheinhaledafterhavingrun,torefillhislungswithair,hefelttheairrushinalsobyaholeinhisrightbreast,withahorriblegurgling,liketheblastinabrokenbellows.Inthatsametimehismouthfilledwithblood,andasharppainshotthroughhisside,whichrapidlygrewworse,untilitbecameatrociousandunspeakable.Hewhirledroundtwoorthreetimes,hisbrainswimmingtoo;andgaspingforbreaththroughtherisingredtidethatchokedhim,fellheavilyinthemud.CHAPTERII"OUT,BRIEFCANDLE!"Aboutafortnightlater,astheskywasdarkeningattheapproachoftherains,andtheheatmoreheavilyweighedoveryellowTonquin,Sylvestre79 ANICELANDFISHERMANbroughttoHanoi,wassenttoHa-Long,andplacedonboardahospital-shipabouttoreturntoFrance.Hehadbeencarriedaboutforsometimeondifferentstretchers,withintervalsofrestattheambulances.Theyhaddonealltheycouldforhim;butundertheinsufficientconditions,hischesthadfilledwithwateronthepiercedside,andthegurglingairenteredthroughthewound,whichwouldnotcloseup.Hehadreceivedthemilitarymedal,whichgavehimamoment'sjoy.Buthewasnolongerthewarriorofold--resoluteofgait,andsteadyinhisresoundingvoice.Allthathadvanishedbeforethelong-sufferingandweakeningfever.Hehadbecomeahome-sickboyagain;hehardlyspokeexceptinansweringoccasionalquestions,inafeebleandalmostinaudiblevoice.Tofeeloneselfsosickandsofaraway;tothinkthatitwantedsomanydaysbeforehecouldreachhome!Wouldheeverliveuntilthen,withhisstrengthebbingaway?Suchaterrifyingfeelingofdistancecontinuallyhauntedhimandweighedateverywakening;andwhen,afterafewhours'stupor,heawokefromthesickeningpainofhiswounds,withfeverishheatandthewhistlingsoundinhispiercedbosom,heimploredthemtoputhimonboard,inspiteofeverything.Hewasveryheavytocarryintohisward,andwithoutintendingit,theygavehimsomecrueljoltsontheway.Theylaidhimononeoftheironcampbedsteadsplacedinrows,hospitalfashion,andthenhesetoutinaninversedirection,onhislongjourneythroughtheseas.Insteadoflivinglikeabirdinthefullwindofthetops,heremainedbelowdeck,inthemidstofthebadairofmedicines,wounds,andmisery.Duringthefirstdaysthejoyofbeinghomewardboundmadehimfeelalittlebetter.Hecouldevenbearbeingproppedupinbedwithpillows,andattimesheaskedforhisbox.Hisseaman'schestwasadealbox,boughtinPaimpol,tokeepallhislovedtreasuresin;insidewerelettersfromGrannyYvonne,andalsofromYannandGaud,acopy-bookintowhichhehadcopiedsomesea-songs,andoneoftheworksofConfuciusinChinese,caughtupatrandomduringpillage;ontheblanksidesofitsleaveshehadwrittenthesimpleaccountofhiscampaign.80 ANICELANDFISHERMANNeverthelesshegotnobetter,andafterthefirstweek,thedoctorsdecidedthatdeathwasimminent.TheywereneartheLinenow,inthestiflingheatofstorms.Thetroop-shipkeptonhercourse,shakingherbeds,thewoundedandthedying;quickerandquickershespedoverthetossingsea,troubledstillasduringtheswayofthemonsoons.SinceleavingHa-Longmorethanonepatientdied,andwasconsignedtothedeepwateronthehighroadtoFrance;manyofthenarrowbedsnolongerboretheirsufferingburdens.Uponthisparticulardayitwasverygloomyinthetravellinghospital;onaccountofthehighseasithadbeennecessarytoclosetheironport-lids,whichmadethestiflingsick-roommoreunbearable.Sylvestrewasworse;theendwasnigh.Lyingalwaysuponhiswoundedside,hepresseduponitwithbothhandswithallhisremainingstrength,totryandallaythewaterydecompositionthatroseinhisrightlung,andtobreathewiththeotherlungonly.Butbydegreestheotherwasaffectedandtheultimateagonyhadbegun.Dreamsandvisionsofhomehauntedhisbrain;inthehotdarkness,belovedorhorriblefacesbentoverhim;hewasinanever-endinghallucination,throughwhichfloatedapparitionsofBrittanyandIceland.Inthemorningwascalledinthepriest,andtheoldman,whowasusedtoseeingsailorsdie,wasastonishedtofindsopureasoulinsostrongandmanlyabody.Hecriedoutforair,air!buttherewasnoneanywhere;theventilatorsnolonggaveany;theattendant,whowasfanninghimwithaChinesefan,onlymovedunhealthyvapoursoverhimofsickeningstaleness,whichrevoltedalllungs.Sometimesfierce,desperatefitscameoverhim;hewishedtotearhimselfawayfromthatbed,wherehefeltdeathwouldcometoseizehim,andrushaboveintothefullfreshwindandtrytoliveagain.Oh!tobelikethoseothers,scramblingaboutamongtherigging,andlivingamongthemasts.Buthisextremeeffortonlyendedinthefeebleliftingofhisweakenedhead;somethingliketheincompletedmovementofasleeper.Hecouldnotmanageit,butfellbackinthehollowofhiscrumpledbed,partlychainedtherebydeath;andeachtime,afterthefatigueofalikeshock,helostallconsciousness.81 ANICELANDFISHERMANTopleasehimtheyopenedaportatlast,althoughitwasdangerous,theseabeingveryrough.Itwasgoingonforsixintheevening.Whenthediskwasswungback,aredlightentered,gloriousandradiant.Thedyingsunappeareduponthehorizonindazzlingsplendour,throughatornriftinagloomysky;itsblindinglightglancedoverthewaves,andlitupthefloatinghospital,likeawavingtorch.Butnoairrushedin;thelittletherewasoutside,waspowerlesstoenteranddrivebeforeitthefeveredatmosphere.Overallsidesofthatboundlessequatorialsea,floatedawarmandheavymoisture,unfitforrespiration.Noaironanyside,notevenforthepoorgaspingfellowsontheirdeathbeds.Onevisiondisturbedhimgreatly;itwasofhisoldgrandmother,walkingquicklyalongaroad,withaheartrendinglookofalarm;fromlow-lyingfunerealcloudsaboveher,fellthedrizzlingrain;shewasonherwaytoPaimpol,summonedthithertobeinformedofhisdeath.Hewasstrugglingnow,withthedeath-rattleinhisthroat.Fromthecornersofhismouththeyspongedawaythewaterandblood,whichhadwelledupinquantitiesfromhischestinwrithingagony.Stillthegrand,glorioussunlitupall,likeaconflagrationofthewholeworld,withblood-ladenclouds;throughtheapertureoftheport-hole,awidestreakofcrimsonfireblazedin,and,spreadingoverSylvestre'sbed,formedahaloaroundhim.AtthatverymomentthatsamesunwastobeseeninBrittany,wheremiddaywasabouttostrike.Itwas,indeed,thesamesun,beheldattheprecisemomentofitsnever-endinground;buthereitkeptquiteanotherhue.Higherupinthebluishsky,itkeptsheddingasoftwhitelightongrandmotherYvonne,sittingoutatherdoor,sewing.InIceland,too,whereitwasmorning,itwasshiningatthatsamemomentofdeath.Muchpalerthere,itseemedasifitonlyshoweditsfacebysomemiracle.Sadlyitsheditsraysoverthefjordwhere/LaMarie/floated;andnowitsskywaslitupbyapurenorthernlight,whichalwaysgivestheideaofafrozenplanet'sreflection,withoutanatmosphere.With82 ANICELANDFISHERMANacoldaccuracy,itoutlinedalltheessentialsofthatstonychaosthatisIceland;thewholeofthecountryasseenfrom/LaMarie/seemedfixedinonesameperspectiveandheldupright.Yannwasthere,litupbyastrangelight,fishing,asusual,inthemidstofthislunar-likescenery.Asthebeamoffieryflamethatcamethroughtheport-holefaded,andthesundisappearedcompletelyunderthegildedbillows,theeyesofthegrandsonrolledinwardtowardhisbrowasiftofallbackintohishead.Theyclosedhiseyelidswiththeirownlonglashes,andSylvestrebecamecalmandbeautifulagain,likearecliningmarblestatueofmanlyrepose.CHAPTERIIITHEGRAVEABROADIcannotrefrainfromtellingyouaboutSylvestre'sfuneral,whichIconductedmyselfinSingapore.WehadthrownenoughotherdeadintotheSeaofChina,duringtheearlydaysofthehomevoyage;andastheMalaylandwasquitenear,wedecidedtokeephisremainsafewhourslonger;toburyhimfittingly.Itwasveryearlyinthemorning,onaccountoftheterriblesun.Intheboatthatcarriedhimashore,hiscorpsewasshroudedinthenationalflag.Thecitywasinsleepaswelanded.Awagonette,sentbytheFrenchConsul,waswaitingonthequay;welaidSylvestreuponit,withawoodencrossmadeonboard--thepaintstillwetuponit,forthecarpenterhadtohurryoverit,andthewhitelettersofhisnameranintotheblackground.WecrossedthatBabelintherisingsun.AndthenitwassuchanemotiontofindtheserenecalmofanEuropeanplaceofworshipinthemidstofthedistastefulturmoiloftheChinesecountry.Underthehighwhitearch,whereIstoodalonewithmysailors,the"/DiesIroe/,"chantedbyamissionarypriest,soundedlikeasoftmagicalincantation.Throughtheopendoorswecouldseesightsthatresembledenchantedgardens,exquisiteverdureandimmensepalm-trees,thewindshookthelargefloweringshrubsandtheirperfumedcrimsonpetalsfelllikerain,almostto83 ANICELANDFISHERMANthechurchitself.Thencewemarchedtotheceremony,veryfaroff.Ourlittleprocessionofsailorswasveryunpretentious,butthecoffinremainedconspicuouslywrappedintheflagofFrance.WehadtotraversetheChinesequarter,throughseethingcrowdsofyellowmen;andthentheMalayandIndiansuburbs,wherealltypesofAsiaticfaceslookeduponuswithastonishment.Thencametheopencountryalreadyheated;throughshadygroveswhereexquisitebutterflies,onvelvetybluewings,flittedinmasses.Oneitherside,wavedtallluxuriantpalms,andquantitiesofflowersinsplendidprofusion.Atlastwecametothecemetery,withmandarins'tombsandmany-colouredinscriptions,adornedwithpaintingsofdragonsandothermonsters;amidastoundingfoliageandplantsgrowingeverywhere.ThespotwherewelaidhimdowntorestresembledanookinthegardensofIndra.Intotheearthwedrovethelittlewoodencross,lettered:SYLVESTREMOAN,AGED19.Andwelefthim,forcedtogobecauseofthehotrisingsun;weturnedbackoncemoretolookathimunderthosemarvelloustreesandhugenoddingflowers.CHAPTERIVTOTHESURVIVORS,THESPOILSThetroopercontinueditscoursethroughtheIndianOcean.Downbelowinthefloatinghospitalotherdeath-sceneswenton.Ondecktherewascarelessnessofhealthandyouth.Roundabout,overthesea,wasaveryfeastofpuresunandair.Inthisfinetrade-windweather,thesailors,stretchedintheshadeofthesails,wereplayingwithlittlepetparrotsandmakingthemrunraces.InthisSingapore,whichtheyhadjustleft,thesailorsbuyallkindsoftameanimals.Theyhadallchosenbabyparrots,withchildishlooksupontheirhooknosefaces;theyhadnotailsyet;theyweregreen,ofawonderfulshade.Astheywentrunningoverthecleanwhiteplanks,theylookedlike84 ANICELANDFISHERMANfreshyoungleaves,fallenfromtropicaltrees.Sometimesthesailorsgatheredthemalltogetherinonelot,whentheyinspectedoneanotherfunnily;twistingabouttheirthroats,tobeseenunderallaspects.Theycomicallywaddledaboutlikesomanylamepeople,orsuddenlystartedoffinagreathurryforsomeunknowndestination;andsomefelldownintheirexcitement.Andthereweremonkeys,learningtricksofallkinds,anothersourceofamusement.Someweremosttenderlylovedandevenkissedextravagantly,astheynestledagainstthecallousbosomsoftheirmasters,gazingfondlyatthemwithwomanisheyes,half-grotesqueandhalf-touching.Uponthestrokeofthreeo'clock,thequartermastersbroughtondecktwocanvasbags,sealedwithhugeredseals,bearingSylvestre'sname;forbyorderoftheregulationsinregardtothedead,allhisclothesandpersonalworldlybelongingsweretobesoldbyauction.Thesailorsgailygroupedthemselvesaroundthepile;for,onboardahospitalship,toomanyofthesesalesofeffectsareseentoexciteanyparticularemotion.Besides,Sylvestrehadbeenbutlittleknownuponthatship.Hisjacketsandshirtsandblue-stripedjerseyswerefingeredandturnedoverandthenboughtupatdifferentprices,thebuyersforcingthebiddingjusttoamusethemselves.Thencametheturnofthesmalltreasure-box,whichwassoldforfiftysous.Thelettersandmilitarymedalhadbeentakenoutofit,tobesentbacktothefamily;butnotthebookofsongsandtheworkofConfucious,withtheneedles,cotton,andbuttons,andallthepettyrequisitesplacedtherebytheforethoughtofGrannyMoanforsewingandmending.Thenthequartermasterwhoheldupthethingstobesolddrewouttwosmallbuddhas,takeninsomepagodatogivetoGaud,andsofunnyweretheythattheyweregreetedwithageneralburstoflaughter,whentheyappearedasthelastlot.Butthesailorslaughed,notforwantofheart,butonlythroughthoughtlessness.Toconclude,thebagsweresold,andthebuyerimmediatelystruckoutthenameonthemtosubstitutehisown.Acarefulsweepofthebroomwasafterwardgiventoclearthescrupulouslycleandeckofthedustandoddsandends,whilethesailors85 ANICELANDFISHERMANreturnedmerrilytoplaywiththeirparrotsandmonkeys.CHAPTERVTHEDEATH-BLOWOneday,inthefirstfortnightofJune,asoldYvonnewasreturninghome,someneighbourstoldherthatshehadbeensentforbytheCommissionerfromtheNavalRegistryOffice.Ofcourseitconcernedhergrandson,butthatdidnotfrightenherintheleast.ThefamiliesofseafarersareusedtotheNavalRegistry,andshe,thedaughter,wife,mother,andgrandmotherofseamen,hadknownthatofficeforthepastsixtyyears.Doubtlessithadtodowithhis"delegation";orperhapstherewasasmallprize-moneyaccountfrom/LaCirce/totakethroughherproxy.Assheknewwhatrespectwasdueto"/MonsieurleCommissaire/,"sheputonherbestgownandacleanwhitecap,andsetoutabouttwoo'clock.Trottingalongswiftlyonthepathwaysofthecliff,shenearedPaimpol;andmusinguponthesetwomonthswithoutletters,shegrewabitanxious.Shemetheroldsweetheartsittingoutathisdoor.Hehadgreatlyagedsincetheappearanceofthewintercold."Eh,eh!Whenyou'reready,youknow,don'tmakeanyceremony,mybeauty!"That"suitofdeal"stillhauntedhismind.ThejoyousbrightnessofJunesmiledaroundher.Ontherockyheightstherestillgrewthestuntedreedswiththeiryellowblossoms;butpassingintothehollownooksshelteredagainstthebitterseawinds,onemetwithhighsweet-smellinggrass.Butthepooroldwomandidnotseeallthis,overwhoseheadsomanyrapidseasonshadpassed,whichnowseemedasshortasdays.Aroundthecrumblinghamletwithitsgloomywallsgrewroses,pinks,andstocks;andevenuponthetopsofthewhitewashedandmossyroofs,sprangthefloweretsthatattractedthefirst"miller"butterfliesoftheseason.Thisspring-timewasalmostwithoutloveinthelandofIcelanders,andthebeautifullassesofproudrace,whosatoutdreamingontheir86 ANICELANDFISHERMANdoorsteps,seemedtolookfarbeyondthevisiblethingswiththeirblueorbrowneyes.Theyoungmen,whoweretheobjectsoftheirmelancholyanddesires,wereremote,fishingonthenorthernseas.Butitwasaspring-timeforallthat--warm,sweet,andtroubling,withitsbuzzingoffliesandperfumeofyoungplants.Andallthissoullessfreshnesssmileduponthepooroldgrandmother,whowasquicklywalkingalongtohearofthedeathofherlast-borngrandson.Shenearedtheawfulmomentwhenthisevent,whichhadtakenplaceinthesodistantChineseseas,wastobetoldtoher;shewastakingthatsinisterwalkthatSylvestrehaddivinedathisdeath-hour--thesightofthathadtornhislastagonizedtearsfromhim;hisdarlingoldgrannysummonedtoPaimpoltobetoldthathewasdead!Clearlyhehadseenherpassalongthatroad,runningstraighton,withhertinybrownshawl,herumbrella,andlargehead-dress.Andthatapparitionhadmadehimtossandwritheinfearfulanguish,whilethehuge,redsunoftheEquator,disappearinginitsglory,peeredthroughtheport-holeofthehospitaltowatchhimdie.Buthe,inhislasthallucination,hadseenhisoldgrannymovingunderarain-ladensky,andonthecontraryajoyouslaughingspring-timemockedheronallsides.NearingPaimpol,shebecamemoreandmoreuneasy,andimprovedherspeed.Nowsheisinthegraytownwithitsnarrowgranitestreets,wherethesunfalls,biddinggood-daytosomeotheroldwomen,hercontemporaries,sittingattheirwindows.Astonishedtoseeher;theysaid:"Whereverisshegoingsoquickly,inherSundaygown,onaweek-day?""MonsieurleCommissaire"oftheNavalEnlistmentOfficewasnotinjustthen.Oneuglylittlecreature,aboutfifteenyearsold,whowashisclerk,satathisdesk.Ashewastoopunytobeafisher,hehadreceivedsomeeducationandpassedhistimeinthatsamechair,inhisblacklinendust-sleeves,scratchingawayatpaper.Withalookofimportance,whenshehadsaidhername,hegotuptogettheofficialdocumentsfromoffashelf.Therewereagreatmanypapers--whatdiditallmean?Parchments,sealedpapers,asailor'srecord-book,grownyellowonthesea,andoverallfloatedanodourofdeath.Hespreadthemalloutbeforethepoorold87 ANICELANDFISHERMANwoman,whobegantotrembleandfeeldizzy.ShehadjustrecognizedtwooftheletterswhichGaudusedtowriteforhertohergrandson,andwhichwerenowreturnedtoherneverunsealed.ThesamethinghadhappenedtwentyyearsagoatthedeathofhersonPierre;thelettershadbeensentbackfromChinato"MonsieurleCommissaire,"whohadgiventhemtoherthus.Nowhewasreadingoutinaconsequentialvoice:"Moan,Jean-Marie-Sylvestre,registeredatPaimpol,folio213,number2091,diedonboardthe/BienHoa/,onthe14thof----.""What--whathashappenedtohim,mygoodsir?""Discharged--dead,"heanswered.Itwasn'tbecausethisclerkwasunkind,butifhespokeinthatbrutalway,itwasthroughwantofjudgment,andfromlackofintelligenceinthelittleincompletebeing.Ashesawthatshedidnotunderstandthattechnicalexpression,hesaidinBreton:"/Marweo/!""/Marweo/!"(Heisdead.)Sherepeatedthewordsafterhim,inheragedtremulousvoice,asapoorcrackedechowouldsendbacksomeindifferentphrase.Sowhatshehadpartlyforeseenwastrue;butitonlymadehertremble;nowthatitwascertain,itseemedtoaffecthernomore.Tobeginwith,herfacultytosufferwasslightlydulledbyoldage,especiallysincethislastwinter.Paindidnotstrikeherimmediately.Somethingseemedtofallupsidedowninherbrain,andsomehoworanothershemixedthisdeathupwithothers.Shehadlostsomanyofthembefore.Sheneededamomenttograspthatthiswasherverylastone,herdarling,theobjectofallherprayers,life,andwaiting,andofallherthoughts,alreadydarkenedbythesombreapproachofsecondchildhood.Shefeltasortofshameatshowingherdespairbeforethislittlegentlemanwhohorrifiedher.Wasthatthewaytotellagrandmotherofherdarling'sdeath?Sheremainedstandingbeforethedesk,stiffened,andtearingthefringesofherbrownshawlwithherpooragedhands,soreandchappedwithwashing.88 ANICELANDFISHERMANHowfarawayshefeltfromhome!Goodness!whatalongwalkbacktobegonethrough,andsteadily,too,beforenearingthewhitewashedhutinwhichshelongedtoshutherselfup,likeawoundedbeastwhohidesinitsholetodie.Andsoshetriednottothinktoomuchandnottounderstandyet,frightenedaboveallatthelonghome-journey.Theygaveheranordertogoandtake,astheheiress,thethirtyfrancsthatcamefromthesaleofSylvestre'sbag;andthentheletters,thecertificates,andtheboxcontainingthemilitarymedal.Shetookthewholeparcelawkwardlywithopenfingers,unabletofindpocketstoputthemin.ShewentstraightthroughPaimpol,lookingatnoone,herbodybentslightlylikeoneabouttofall,witharushingofbloodinherears;pressingandhurryingalonglikesomepooroldmachine,whichcouldnotbewoundup,atagreatpressure,forthelasttime,withoutfearofbreakingitssprings.Atthethirdmileshewentalongquitebentintwoandexhausted;fromtimetotimeherfootstruckagainstthestones,givingherapainfulshockuptotheveryhead.Shehurriedtoburyherselfinherhome,forfearoffallingandhavingtobecarriedthere.CHAPTERVIACHARITABLEASSUMPTION"OldYvonne'stipsy!"wasthecry.Shehadfallen,andthestreetchildrenranafterher.ItwasjustattheboundaryoftheparishofPloubazlanec,wheremanyhousesstragglealongtheroadside.Butshehadthestrengthtoriseandhobblealongonherstick."OldYvonne'stipsy!"Theboldlittlecreaturesstaredherfullintheface,laughing.Her/coiffe/wasallawry.Someoftheselittleoneswerenotreallywicked,andthese,whentheyscannedhercloserandsawthesenilegrimaceofbitterdespair,turnedaside,surprisedandsaddened,daringtosaynothingmore.Athome,withthedoortightlyclosed,shegaveventtothedeep89 ANICELANDFISHERMANscreamofdespairthatchokedher,andfelldowninacorner,herheadagainstthewall.Hercaphadfallenoverhereyes;shethrewoffroughlywhatformerlyhadbeensowelltakencareof.HerSundaydresswassoiled,andathinmeshofyellowishwhitehairstrayedfrombeneathhercap,completingherpitiful,poverty-strickendisorder.CHAPTERVIITHECOMFORTERThusdidGaud,cominginfornewsintheevening,findher;herhairdishevelled,herarmshangingdown,andherheadrestingagainstthestonewall,withafallingjawgrinning,andtheplaintivewhimperofalittlechild;shescarcelycouldweepanymore;thesegrandmothers,growntooold,havenotearsleftintheirdried-upeyes."Mygrandsonisdead!"Shethrewtheletters,papers,andmedalintohercaller'slap.Gaudquicklyscannedthewhole,sawthenewswastrue,andfellonherkneestopray.Thetwowomenremainedtheretogetheralmostdumb,throughtheJunegloaming,whichinBrittanyislongbutinIcelandisnever-ending.Onthehearththecricketthatbringsjoywaschirpinghisshrillmusic.ThedimduskenteredthroughthenarrowwindowintothedwellingofthoseMoans,whohadallbeendevouredbythesea,andwhosefamilywasnowextinguished.AtlastGaudsaid:"/I'll/cometoyou,goodgranny,tolivewithyou;I'llbringmybedthatthey'veleftme,andI'lltakecareofyouandnurseyou--youshan'tbeallalone."Shewept,too,forherlittlefriendSylvestre,butinhersorrowshewasledinvoluntarilytothinkofanother--hewhohadgonebacktothedeep-seafishery.TheywouldhavetowritetoYannandtellhimSylvestrewasdead;itwasjustnowthatthefisherswerestarting.Wouldhe,too,weepforhim?Mayhaphewould,forhehadlovedhimdearly.Inthemidstofherowntears,Gaudthoughtagreatdealofhim;nowandagainwaxingwroth90 ANICELANDFISHERMANagainstthehard-heartedfellow,andthenpityinghimatthethoughtofthatpainwhichwouldstrikehimalso,andwhichwouldbeasalinkbetweenthemboth--onewayandanother,herheartwasfullofhim.CHAPTERVIIITHEBROTHER'SGRIEFOnepaleAugustevening,theletterthatannouncedYann'sbrother'sdeath,atlengtharrivedonboardthe/Marie/,upontheIcelandseas;itwasafteradayofhardworkandexcessivefatigue,justastheyweregoingdowntosupandtorest.Witheyesheavywithsleep,hereaditintheirdarknookbelowdeck,litbytheyellowbeamofthesmalllamp;atthefirstmomenthebecamestunnedandgiddy,likeonedazedoutoffairunderstanding.VeryproudandreticentinallthingsconcerningthefeelingswasYann,andhehidtheletterinhisbluejersey,nexthisbreast,withoutsayinganything,assailorsdo.Buthedidnotfeelthecouragetositdownwiththeotherstosupper,anddisdainingeventoexplainwhy,hethrewhimselfintohisberthandfellasleep.SoonhedreamedofSylvestredead,andofhisfuneralgoingby.Towardsmidnight,beinginthatstateofmindthatispeculiartoseamanwhoareconsciousofthetimeofdayintheirslumber,andquiteclearlyseethehourdrawnightwhentoawakenforthewatch--hesawthefuneral,andsaidtohimself:"Iamdreaming;luckilythematewillcomeandwakemeup,andthevisionwillpassaway."Butwhenaheavyhandwaslaiduponhimandavoicecriedout:"Tumbleout,Gaos!watch,boy!"heheardtheslightrustlingofpaperathisbreast,afineghastlymusicthataffirmedthefactofthedeath.Yes,theletter!Itwastrue,then?Themorecruel,heartrendingimpressiondeepened,andhejumpedupsoquicklyinhissuddenstart,thathestruckhisforeheadagainsttheoverheadbeam.Hedressedandopenedthehatchwaytogoupmechanicallyandtakehisplaceinthefishing.91 ANICELANDFISHERMANCHAPTERIXWORKCURESSORROWWhenYannwasondeck,helookedaroundhimwithsleep-ladeneyes,overthefamiliarcircleofthesea.Thatnighttheillimitableimmensityshoweditselfinitsmostastonishinglysimpleaspects,inneutraltints,givingonlytheimpressionofdepth.Thishorizon,whichindicatednorecognisableregionoftheearth,orevenanygeologicalage,musthavelookedsomanytimesthesamesincetheoriginoftime,that,gazinguponit,onesawnothingsavetheeternityofthingsthatexistandcannothelpexisting.Itwasnotthedeadofnight,forapatchoflight,whichseemedtooozefromnoparticularpoint,dimlylitupthescene.Thewindsobbedasusualitsaimlesswail.Allwasgray,aficklegray,whichfadedbeforethefixedgaze.Thesea,duringitsmysteriousrest,hiditselfunderfeebletintswithoutaname.Abovefloatedscatteredclouds;theyhadassumedvariousshapes,for,withoutform,thingscannotexist;inthedarknesstheyhadblendedtogether,soastoformonesinglevastveiling.Butinoneparticularspotofthesky,lowdownonthewaters,theyseemedadark-veinedmarble,thestreaksclearlydefinedalthoughverydistant;atenderdrawing,asiftracedbysomedreamyhand--somechanceeffect,notmeanttobeviewedforlong,andindeedhasteningtodieaway.Eventhatalone,inthemidstofthisbroadgrandeur,appearedtomeansomething;onemightthinkthatthesad,undefinedthoughtofthenothingnessaroundwaswrittenthere;andthesightinvoluntarilyremainedfixeduponit.Yann'sdazzledeyesgrewaccustomedtotheoutsidedarkness,andgazedmoreandmoresteadilyuponthatveininginthesky;ithadnowtakentheshapeofakneelingfigurewitharmsoutstretched.Hebegantolookuponitasahumanshadowrenderedgiganticbythedistanceitself.Inhismind,wherehisindefinitedreamsandprimitivebeliefsstilllingered,theominousshadow,crushedbeneaththegloomysky,slowlycoalescedwiththethoughtofhisdeadbrother,asifitwerealasttokenfromhim.92 ANICELANDFISHERMANHewasusedtosuchstrangeassociationsofideas,thatthriveinthemindsofchildren.Butwords,vagueastheymaybe,arestilltooprecisetoexpressthosefeelings;onewouldneedthatuncertainlanguagethatcomesindreams,ofwhichuponawakening,oneretainsmerelyenigmatical,senselessfragments.Lookinguponthecloud,hefeltadeepanguish,fullofunknownmystery,thatfrozehisverysoul;heunderstoodfullwellnowthathispoorlittlebrotherwouldnevermorebeseen;sorrow,whichhadbeensometimepenetratingthehard,roughrindofhisheart,nowgushedinandbrimmeditover.HebeheldSylvestreagainwithhissoftchildisheyes;atthethoughtofembracinghimnomore,aveilfellbetweenhiseyelidsandhiseyes,againsthiswill;and,atfirst,hecouldnotrightlyunderstandwhatitwas--neverhavingweptinallhismanhood.Butthetearsbegantofallheavilyandswiftlydownhischeeks,andthensobsrenthisdeepchest.Hewentonwithhisfishing,losingnotimeandspeakingtonoone,andhistwomates,thoughhearinghiminthedeepsilence,pretendednottodoso,forfearofirritatinghim,knowinghimtobesohaughtyandreserved.Inhisopiniondeathwastheendofitall.Outofrespectheoftenjoinedinthefamilyprayersforthedead,buthebelievedinnoafter-lifeofthesoul.Betweenthemselves,intheirlongtalks,thesailorsallsaidthesame,inablunttaken-for-grantedway,asawell-knownfact;butitdidnotstopthemfrombelievinginghosts,havingavaguefearofgraveyards,andanunlimitedconfidenceinprotectingsaintsandimages,andabovealladeeprespectfortheconsecratedeartharoundthechurches.SoYannhimselffearedtobeswallowedupbythesea,asifitwouldannihilatehim,andthethoughtofSylvestre,sofarawayontheothersideoftheearth,madehissorrowmoredarkanddesperate.Withhiscontemptforhisfellows,hehadnoshameorconstraintinweeping,nomorethanifhewerealone.Aroundtheboatthechaosgrewwhiter,althoughitwasonlytwoo'clock,andatthesametimeitappearedtospreadfarther,hollowinginafearfulmanner.Withthatkindofrisingdawn,eyesopenedwider,andtheawakenedmindcouldconceivebettertheimmensityofdistance,asthe93 ANICELANDFISHERMANboundariesofvisiblespacerecededandwidenedaway.Thepaleauroraincreased,seemingtocomeintinyjetswithslightshocks;eternalthingsseemedtolightupbysheertransparency,asifwhite-flamedlampshadslowlybeenraisedupbehindtheshapelessgrayclouds,andheldtherewithmysteriouscare,forfearofdisturbingthecalm,evenrestofthesea.Belowthehorizonthatcolossalwhitelampwasthesun,whichdraggeditselfalongwithoutstrength,beforetakingitsleisurelyascent,whichbeganinthedawn'seyeabovetheocean.Onthisday,theusualrosytintswerenotseen;allremainedpaleandmournful.Onboardthegrayship,Yannweptalone.Thetearsofthefierceelderbrother,togetherwiththemelancholyofthissurroundingwaste,wereasmourning,worninhonourofthepoor,obscure,younghero,upontheseseasofIceland,wherehalfhislifehadbeenpassed.Whenthefulllightofdayappeared,Yannabruptlywipedhiseyeswithhissleeveandceasedweeping.Thatgriefwasovernow.Heseemedcompletelyabsorbedbytheworkofthefishery,andbythemonotonousroutineofsubstantialdeeds,asifheneverhadthoughtofanythingelse.Thecatchingwentonapace,andtherewerescanthandsforthework.Aroundaboutthefishers,intheimmensedepths,atransformationscenewastakingplace.Thegrandopeningoutoftheinfinitude,thatgreatwonderofthemorning,hadfinished,andthedistanceseemedtodiminishandcloseinaroundthem.Howwasitthatbeforetheseahadseemedsoboundless!Thehorizonwasquiteclearnow,andmorespaceseemednecessary.Thevoidfilledinwithflecksandstreamersthatfloatedabove,somevagueasmist,otherswithvisiblyjaggededges.Theyfellsoftlyamidanuttersilence,likesnowygauze,butfellonallsidestogether,sothatbelowthemsuffocationsetinswiftly;ittookawaythebreathtoseetheairsothickened.ItwasthefirstoftheAugustfogsthatwasrising.Inafewmomentsthewinding-sheetbecameuniversallydense;allaroundthe/Marie/awhitedamplayunderthelight,andinitthemastfadedanddisappeared."Here'sthecursedfognow,forsure,"grumbledthemen.Theyhadlongagomadetheacquaintanceofthatcompulsorycompanionofthe94 ANICELANDFISHERMANsecondpartofthefishingseason;butitalsoannounceditsendandthetimeforreturningtoBrittany.Itcondensedintofine,sparklingdropsintheirbeards,andshoneupontheirweather-beatenfaces.Lookingathwartshiptooneanother,theyappeareddimasghosts;andbycomparison,nearerobjectswereseenmoreclearlyunderthecolourlesslight.Theytookcarenottoinhaletheairtoodeeply,forafeelingofchillandwetpenetratedthelungs.Butthefishingwasgoingonbriskly,sothattheyhadnotimelefttochatter,andtheyonlythoughtoftheirlines.Everymomentbigheavyfishweredrawninondeck,andslappeddownwithasmacklikeawhip-crack;theretheywriggledaboutangrily,flappingtheirtailsonthedeck,scatteringplentyofsea-waterabout,andsilveryscalestoo,inthecourseoftheirdeath-struggle.Thesailorwhosplitthemopenwithhislongknife,sometimescuthisownfingers,inhishaste,sothathiswarmbloodmingledwiththebrine.CHAPTERXTHEWHITEFOGCaughtinthefog,theyremainedtendaysinsuccessionwithoutbeingabletoseeanything.Thefishingwentonhandsomelythewhile,andwithsomuchtodotherewasnotimeforweariness.Atregularintervalsoneofthemblewalongfog-horn,whenceissuedasoundlikethehowlingofawildbeast.Sometimes,outofthedepthsofwhitefog,anotherbellowingansweredtheircall.Thenasharperwatchwaskept.Iftheblastswereapproaching,allearswereturnedinthedirectionofthatunknownneighbour,whomtheymightperhapsneversee,butwhosepresencewasneverthelessadanger.Conjecturesweremadeaboutthestrangevessel;itbecameasubjectofconversation,asortofcompanyforthem;alllongingtoseeher,strainedtheireyesinvaineffortstopiercethoseimpalpablewhiteshrouds.Thenthemysteriousconsortwoulddepart,thebellowingofhertrumpetfadingawayinthedistance,andtheywouldremainagaininthe95 ANICELANDFISHERMANdeephush,amidtheinfinityofstagnantvapour.Everythingwasdrenchedwithsaltwater;thecoldbecamemorepenetrating;eachdaythesuntooklongertosinkbelowthehorizon;therewerenowrealnightsoneortwohourslong,andtheirgraygloamingwaschillyandweird.Everymorningtheyheavedthelead,throughfearthatthe/Marie/mighthaveruntooneartheIcelandiccoast.Butallthelinesonboard,fastenedendtoend,werepaidoutinvain--thebottomcouldnotbetouched.Sotheyknewthattheywerewelloutinbluewater.Lifeonboardwasroughandwholesome;thecomfortinthesnugstrongoakencabinbelowwasenhancedbytheimpressionofthepiercingcoldoutside,whentheywentdowntosupperorforrest.Inthedaytime,thesemen,whowereassecludedasmonks,spokebutlittleamongthemselves.Eachheldhisline,remainingforhoursandhoursinthesameimmovableposition.Theywereseparatedbysomethreeyardsofspace,butitendedinnotevenseeingoneanother.Thecalmofthefogdulledthemind.Fishingsolonely,theyhummedhomesongs,soasnottoscarethefishaway.Ideascamemoreslowlyandseldom;theyseemedtoexpand,fillinginthespaceoftime,withoutleavinganyvacuum.Theydreamedofincoherentandmysteriousthings,asifinslumber,andthewoofoftheirdreamswasasairyasfogitself.ThismistymonthofAugustusuallyterminatedtheIcelandseason,inaquiet,mournfulway.Otherwisethefullphysicallifewasthesame,fillingthesailors'lungswithrustlingairandhardeningtheiralreadystrongmuscles.Yann'susualmannerhadreturned,asifhisgreatgriefhadnotcontinued;watchfulandactive,quickathisfishingwork,ahappy-go-luckytemper,likeonewhohadnotroubles;communicativeattimes,butveryrarely--andalwayscarryinghisheaduphigh,withhisoldindifferent,domineeringlook.Atsupperintheroughretreat,whentheywereallseatedattable,withtheirknivesbusyontheirhotplates,heoccasionallylaughedoutasheusedtodoatdrollremarksofhismates.InhisinnerselfheperhapsthoughtofGaud,towhom,doubtless,Sylvestrehadplightedhiminhislasthours;andshehadbecomeapoorgirlnow,aloneintheworld.And96 ANICELANDFISHERMANaboveall,perhaps,themourningforhisbelovedbrotherstillpreyeduponhisheart.Butthisheartofhiswasavirginwilderness,difficulttoexploreandlittleknown,wheremanythingstookplaceunrevealedontheexterior.CHAPTERXITHESPECTRESHIPOnemorning,goingonthreeo'clock,whileallweredreamingquietlyundertheirwinding-sheetoffog,theyheardsomethinglikeaclamourofvoices--voiceswhosetonesseemedstrangeandunfamiliar.Thoseondecklookedateachotherquestioningly."Who'sthattalking?"Nobody.Nobodyhadsaidanything.Forthatmatter,thesoundshadseemedtocomefromtheoutervoid.Thenthemanwhohadchargeofthefog-horn,buthadbeenneglectinghisdutysinceovernight,rushedforit,andinflatinghislungstotheirutmost,soundedwithallhismightthelongbellowofalarm.Itwasenoughtomakeamanofironstart,insuchasilence.Asifaspectrehadbeenevokedbythatthrilling,thoughdeep-tonedroar,ahugeunforeseengrayformsuddenlyaroseveryloftilyandtoweredthreateninglyrightbesidethem;masts,spars,rigging,alllikeashipthathadtakensuddenshapeintheairinstantly,justasasinglebeamofelectriclightevokesphantasmagoriaonthescreenofamagiclantern.Menappeared,almostcloseenoughtotouchthem,leaningoverthebulwarks,staringatthemwitheyesdistendedintheawakeningofsurpriseanddread.The/Marie's/menrushedforoars,spars,boat-hooks,anythingtheycouldlaytheirhandsonforfenders,andheldthemouttoshoveoffthatgrislythinganditsimpendingvisitors.Lo!theseothers,terrifiedalso,putoutlargebeamstorepelthemlikewise.Buttherecameonlyaveryfaintcreakinginthetopmasts,asbothstandinggearsmomentarilyentangledbecamedisentangledwithouttheleastdamage;theshock,verygentleinsuchacalmhadbeenalmostwhollydeadened;indeed,itwassofeeblethatitreallyseemedasifthe97 ANICELANDFISHERMANothershiphadnosubstance,thatitwasamerepulp,almostwithoutweight.Whenthefrightwasover,themenbegantolaugh;theyhadrecognisedeachother."/LaMarie/,ahoy!howareye,lads?""Halloa!Gaos,Laumec,Guermeur!"Thespectreshipwasthe/Reine-Berthe/,alsoofPaimpol,andsothesailorswerefromneighbouringvillages;thatthick,tallfellowwiththehuge,blackbeard,showinghisteethwhenhelaughed,wasKerjegou,oneofthePloudanielboys,theotherswerefromPlounesorPlounerin."Whydidn'tyoublowyourfog-horn,andbeblowedtoyou,youherdofsavages?"challengedLarvoerofthe/Reine-Berthe/."Ifitcomestothat,whydidn'tyoublowyours,youcrewofpirates--yourankmessoftoad-fish?""Oh,no!withus,d'yesee,thesea-lawdiffers./We'reforbiddentomakeanynoise!/"Hemadethisreplywiththeairofgivingadarkhint,andaqueersmile,whichafterwardcamebacktothememoryofthemenofthe/Marie/,andcausedthemagreatdealofthinking.Then,asifhethoughthehadsaidtoomuch,heconcludedwithajoke:"Ourfog-horn,d'yesee,wasburstbythisrogueherea-blowingtoohardintoit."HepointedtoasailorwithafacelikeaTriton,amanallbull-neckandchest,extravagantlybroad-shouldered,low-setuponhislegs,withsomethingunspeakablygrotesqueandunpleasantinthedeformityofstrength.Whiletheywerelookingateachother,waitingforbreezeorundercurrenttomoveonevesselfasterthantheotherandseparatethem,ageneralpalaverbegan.Leaningovertheside,butholdingeachotheroffatarespectabledistancewiththeirlongwoodenprops,likebesiegedpikemenrepellinganassault,theybegantochatabouthome,thelastlettersreceived,andsweetheartsandwives."Isay!myoldwoman,"saidKerjegou,"tellsmeshe'shadthelittleboywewerelookingfor;thatmakeshalf-score-twonow!"Anotherhadfoundhimselfthefatheroftwins;andathirdannouncedthemarriageofprettyJennyCaroff,agirlwellknowntoalltheIcelanders,98 ANICELANDFISHERMANwithsomerichandinfirmoldresidentoftheCommuneofPlourivo.Astheywereeyeingeachotherasifthroughwhitegauze,thisalsoappearedtoalterthesoundofthevoices,whichcameasifmuffledandfromfaraway.MeanwhileYanncouldnottakehiseyesoffoneofthosebrotherfishermen,alittlegrizzledfellow,whomhewasquitesureheneverhadseenbefore,butwhohad,nevertheless,straightwaysaidtohim,"Howd'o,longYann?"withallthefamiliarityofbosomacquaintance.Heworetheprovokinguglinessofamonkey,withanapishtwinklingofmischieftooinhispiercingeyes."Asforme,"saidLarvoer,ofthe/Reine-Berthe/,"I'vebeentoldofthedeathofthegrandsonofoldYvonneMoan,ofPloubazlanec--whowasservinghistimeinthenavy,youknow,intheChinesesquadron--averygreatpity."Onhearingthis,allthemenof/LaMarie/turnedtowardsYanntolearnifhealreadyknewanythingofthesadnews."Ay,"heansweredinalowvoice,butwithanindifferentandhaughtyair,"itwastoldmeinthelastlettermyfathersentme."Theystillkeptonlookingathim,curiousatfindingoutthesecretofhisgrief,anditmadehimangry.Thesequestionsandanswerswererapidlyexchangedthroughthepallidmists,sothemomentsofthispeculiarcolloquyskippedswiftlyby."Mywifewrotemeatthesametime,"continuedLarvoer,"thatMonsieurMevel'sdaughterhasleftthetowntoliveatPloubazlanecandtakecareofheroldgrand-aunt--GrannyMoan.Shegoesouttoneedleworkbythedaynow--toearnherliving.Anyhow,Ialwaysthought,Idid,thatshewasagood,bravegirl,inspiteofherfine-ladyairsandherfurbelows."ThenagaintheyallstaredatYann,whichmadehimstillmoreangry;aredflushmountedtohischeeks,undertheirtawnytan.WithLarvoer'sexpressionofopinionaboutGaudendedthisparleywiththecrewofthe/Reine-Berthe/,noneofwhomwereeveragaintobeseenbyhumaneyes.Foramomenttheirfacesbecamemoredim,theirvesselbeingalreadyfartheraway;andthen,allatonce,themenofthe99 ANICELANDFISHERMAN/Marie/foundtheyhadnothingtopushagainst,nothingattheendoftheirpoles--allspars,oars,oddsandendsofdeck-lumber,weregropingandquiveringinemptiness,tilltheyfellheavily,oneaftertheother,downintothesea,liketheirownarms,loppedoffandinert.Theypulledalltheuselessdefencesonboard.The/Reine-Berthe/,meltingawayintothethickfog,haddisappearedassuddenlyasapaintedshipinadissolvingview.Theytriedtohailher,buttheonlyresponsewasasortofmockingclamour--asofmanyvoices--endinginamoan,thatmadethemallstareateachotherinsurprise.This/Reine-Berthe/didnotcomebackwiththeotherIcelandicfishers;andasthemenofthe/Samuel-Azenide/afterwardpickedupinsomefjordanunmistakablewaif(partofhertaffrailwithabitofherkeel),allceasedtohope;inthemonthofOctoberthenamesofallhercrewwereinscribeduponblackslabsinthechurch.Fromtheverytimeofthatapparition--thedateofwhichwaswellrememberedbythemenofthe/Marie/--untilthetimeoftheirreturn,therehadbeennoreallydangerousweatherontheIcelandicseas,butagreatstormfromthewesthad,threeweeksbefore,sweptseveralsailorsoverboard,andswalloweduptwovessels.ThemenrememberedLarvoer'speculiarsmile,andputtingthingstogethermanystrangeconjecturesweremade.Inthedeadofnight,Yann,morethanonce,dreamedthatheagainsawthesailorwhoblinkedlikeanape,andsomeofthemenofthe/Marie/wonderedif,onthatrememberedmorning,theyhadnotbeentalkingwithghosts.CHAPTERXIITHESTRANGECOUPLESummeradvanced,and,attheendofAugust,withthefirstautumnalmists,theIcelanderscamehome.ForthelastthreemonthsthetwolonewomenhadlivedtogetheratPloubazlanecintheMoan'scottage.Gaudfilledadaughter'splaceinthepoorbirthplaceofsomanydeadsailors.Shehadsenthitherallthatremainedfromthesaleofherfather'shouse;hergrandbedinthetown100 ANICELANDFISHERMANfashion,andherfine,differentcoloureddresses.Shehadmadeherselfaplainerblackdress,andlikeoldYvonne,woreamourningcap,ofthickwhitemuslin,adornedmerelywithsimpleplaits.Everydayshewentoutsewingatthehousesoftherichpeopleinthetown,andreturnedeveryeveningwithoutbeingdetainedonherwayhomebyanysweetheart.Shehadremainedasproudasever,andwasstillrespectedasafinelady;andastheladsbadehergood-night,theyalwaysraisedahandtotheircaps.Throughthesweeteveningtwilight,shewalkedhomefromPaimpol,allalongthecliffroadinhalingthefresh,comfortingseaair.Constantsittingatneedleworkhadnotdeformedherlikemanyothers,whoarealwaysbentintwoovertheirwork--andshedrewupherbeautifulsuppleformperfectlyerectinlookingoverthesea,fairlyacrosstowhereYannwasitseemed.Thesameroadledtohishome.Hadshewalkedonmuchfarther,towardsawell-knownrockywindsweptnook,shewouldcometothathamletofPors-Even,wherethetrees,coveredwithgraymoss,grewcrampedlybetweenthestones,andareslantedoverlowlybythewesterngales.Perhapsshemightnevermorereturnthere,althoughitwasonlyaleagueaway;butonceinherlifetimeshehadbeenthere,andthatwasenoughtocastacharmoverthewholeroad;and,besides,Yannwouldcertainlyoftenpassthatway,andshecouldfancyseeinghimuponthebaremoor,steppingbetweenthestumpyreeds.ShelovedthewholeregionofPloubazlanec,andwasalmosthappythatfatehaddrivenherthere;shenevercouldhavebecomeresignedtoliveinanyotherplace.TowardsthisendofAugust,asouthernwarmth,diffusinglanguor,risesandspreadstowardsthenorth,withluminousafterglowsandstrayraysfromadistantsun,whichfloatovertheBretonseas.Oftentheairiscalmandpellucid,withoutasinglecloudonhigh.AtthehourofGaud'sreturnjourney,allthingshadalreadybeguntofadeinthenightfall,andbecomefusedintoclose,compactgroups.Hereandthereaclumpofreedsstrovetomakewaybetweenstones,likeabattle-tornflag;inahollow,aclusterofgnarledtreesformedadarkmass,orelsesomestraw-thatchedhamletindentedthemoor.Atthecross-roads101 ANICELANDFISHERMANtheimagesofChristonthecross,whichwatchoverandprotectthecountry,stretchedouttheirblackarmsontheirsupportslikerealmenintorture;inthedistancetheChannelappearedfairandcalm,onevastgoldenmirror,underthealreadydarkenedskyandshade-ladenhorizon.Inthiscountryeventhecalmfineweatherwasamelancholything;notwithstanding,avagueuneasinessseemedtohoverabout;apalpabledreademanatingfromtheseatowhichsomanylivesareintrusted,andwhoseeverlastingthreatonlyslumbered.Gaudsaunteredalongasinadream,andneverfoundthewaylongenough.Thebrinysmelloftheshore,andasweetodouroffloweretsgrowingalongthecliffsamidthornybushes,perfumedtheair.HaditnotbeenforGrannyYvonnewaitingforherathome,shewouldhaveloiteredalongthereed-strewnpaths,likethebeautifulladiesinstories,whodreamawaythesummereveningsintheirfineparks.Manythoughtsofherearlychildhoodcamebacktoherasshepassedthroughthecountry;buttheyseemedsoeffacedandfarawaynow,eclipsedbyherloveloomingupbetween.Inspiteofall,shewentonthinkingofYannasengagedinadegree--arestless,scornfulbetrothed,whomsheneverwouldreallyhave,buttowhomshepersistedinbeingfaithfulinmind,withoutspeakingaboutittoanyone.Forthetime,shewashappytoknowthathewasoffIceland;forthere,atleast,theseawouldkeephimlonelyinherdeepcloisters,andhewouldbelongtonootherwoman.True,hewouldreturnoneofthesedays,butshelookeduponthatreturnmorecalmlythanbefore.Sheinstinctivelyunderstoodthatherpovertywouldnotbeareasonforhimtodespiseher;forhewasnotasothermen.Moreover,thedeathofpoorSylvestrewoulddrawthemclosertogether.Uponhisreturn,hecouldnotdootherwisethancometoseehisfriend'soldgranny;andGaudhaddecidedtobepresentatthatvisit;foritdidnotseemtoherthatitwouldbeundignified.Appearingtoremembernothing,shewouldtalktohimastoalong-knownfriend;shewouldevenspeakwithaffection,aswasduetoSylvestre'sbrother,andtrytoseemeasyandnatural.Andwhoknows?Perhapsitwouldnotbeimpossibletobeasasistertohim,nowthatshewassolonelyintheworld;torelyupon102 ANICELANDFISHERMANhisfriendship,eventoaskitasasupport,withenoughpreliminaryexplanationforhimnottoaccuseherofanyafter-thoughtofmarriage.Shejudgedhimtobeuntamedandstubborninhisindependentideas,yettenderandloyal,andcapableofunderstandingthegoodnessthatcomesstraightfromtheheart.Howwouldhefeelwhenhemetheragain,inherpoorruinedhome?Very,verypoorshewas--forGrannyMoanwasnotstrongenoughnowtogooutwashing,andonlyhadhersmallwidow'spensionleft;granted,sheatebutlittle,andthetwocouldstillmanagetolive,notdependentuponothers.Nightwasalwaysfallenwhenshearrivedhome;beforeshecouldentershehadtogodownalittleoverthewornrocks,forthecottagewasplacedonaninclinetowardsthebeach,belowthelevelofthePloubazlanecroadside.Itwasalmosthiddenunderitsthickbrownstrawthatch,andlookedlikethebackofsomehugebeast,shrunkdownunderitsbristlingfur.Itswallsweresombreandroughliketherocks,butwithtinytuftsofgreenmossandlichensoverthem.Therewerethreeunevenstepsbeforethethreshold,andtheinsidelatchwasopenedbyalengthofrope-yarnrunthroughahole.Uponentering,thefirstthingtobeseenwasthewindow,hollowedoutthroughthewallasinthesubstanceofarampart,andgivingviewofthesea,whenceinflowedadyingyellowlight.Onthehearthburnedbrightlythesweet-scentedbranchesofpineandbeechwoodthatoldYvonneusedtopickupalongtheway,andsheherselfwassittingthere,seeingtotheirbitofsupper;indoorssheworeakerchiefoverherheadtosavehercap.Herstillbeautifulprofilewasoutlinedintheredflameofherfire.ShelookedupatGaud.Hereyes,whichformerlywerebrown,hadtakenafadedlook,andalmostappearedblue;theyseemednolongertosee,andweretroubledanduncertainwitholdage.EachdayshegreetedGaudwiththesamewords:"Oh,dearme!mygoodlass,howlateyouareto-night!""No,Granny,"answeredGaud,whowasusedtoit."Thisisthesametimeasotherdays.""Eh?Itseemedtome,dear,laterthanusual."Theysatdowntosupperattheirtable,whichhadalmostbecome103 ANICELANDFISHERMANshapelessfromconstantuse,butwasstillasthickasthegeneroussliceofahugeoak.Thecricketbeganitssilver-tonedmusicagain.Oneofthesidesofthecottagewasfilledupbyroughlysculptured,worm-eatenwoodwork,whichhadanopeningwhereinweresetthesleepingbunks,wheregenerationsoffishershadbeenborn,andwheretheiragedmothershaddied.Quaintoldkitchenutensilshungfromtheblackbeams,aswellasbunchesofsweetherbs,woodenspoons,andsmokedbacon;fishing-nets,whichhadbeenlefttheresincetheshipwreckofthelastMoans,theirmeshesnightlybittenbytherats.Gaud'sbedstoodinanangleunderitswhitemuslindraperies;itseemedlikeaveryfreshandelegantmoderninventionbroughtintothehutofaCelt.OnthegranitewallhungaphotographofSylvestreinhissailorclothes.Hisgrandmotherhadfixedhismilitarymedaltoit,withhisownpairofthoseredclothanchorsthatFrenchmen-of-wars-menwearontheirrightsleeve;Gaudhadalsobroughtoneofthosefunerealcrowns,ofblackandwhitebeads,placedroundtheportraitsofthedeadinBrittany.ThisrepresentedSylvestre'smausoleum,andwasallthatremainedtoconsecratehismemoryinhisownland.Onsummereveningstheydidnotsituplate,tosavethelights;whentheweatherwasfine,theysatoutawhileonastonebenchbeforethedoor,andlookedatpassers-byintheroad,alittleovertheirheads.ThenoldYvonnewouldliedownonhercupboardshelf;andGaudonherfinebed,wouldfallasleepprettysoon,beingtiredoutwithherday'swork,andwalking,anddreamingofthereturnoftheIcelanders.Likeawise,resolutegirl,shewasnottoogreatlyapprehensive.CHAPTERXIIIRENEWEDDISAPPOINTMENTButonedayinPaimpol,hearingthat/LaMarie/hadjustgotin,Gaudfeltpossessedwithakindoffever.Allherquietcomposuredisappeared;sheabruptlyfinishedupherwork,withoutquiteknowingwhy,andsetoff104 ANICELANDFISHERMANhomesoonerthanusual.Upontheroad,asshehurriedon,sherecognised/him/,atsomedistanceoff,comingtowardsher.Shetrembledandfeltherstrengthgivingway.Hewasnowquiteclose,onlyabouttwentystepsoff,hisheaderectandhishaircurlingoutfrombeneathhisfisher'scap.Shewassotakenbysurpriseatthismeeting,thatshewasafraidshemightfall,andthenhewouldunderstandall;shewoulddieofveryshameatit.Shethought,too,shewasnotlookingwell,butweariedbythehurriedwork.Shewouldhavedoneanythingtobehiddenawayunderthereedsorinoneoftheferret-holes.Healsohadtakenabackwardstep,asiftoturninanotherdirection.Butitwastoolatenow.Bothmetinthenarrowpath.Nottotouchher,hedrewupagainstthebank,withasideswervelikeaskittishhorse,lookingatherinawild,stealthyway.She,too,foronehalfsecondlookedup,andinspiteofherselfmutelyimploredhim,withanagonizedprayer.Inthatinvoluntarymeetingoftheireyes,swiftasthefiringofagun,thesegraypupilsofhershadappearedtodilateandlightupwithsomegrandnoblethought,whichflashedforthinablueflame,whilethebloodrushedcrimsoneventohertemplesbeneathhergoldentresses.Ashetouchedhiscaphefaltered."Wishyougood-day,MademoiselleGaud.""Good-day,MonsieurYann,"sheanswered.Thatwasall.Hepassedon.Shewentonherway,stillquivering,butfeeling,ashedisappeared,thatherbloodwasslowlycirculatingagainandherstrengthreturning.Athome,shefoundGrannyMoancrouchinginacornerwithherheadheldbetweenherhands,sobbingwithherchildish"he,he!"herhairdishevelledandfallingfrombeneathhercaplikethinskeinsofgrayhemp."Oh,mykindGaud!I'vejustmetyoungGaosdownbyPlouherzelasIcamebackfrommywood-gathering;wespokeofourpoorlad,ofcourse.TheyarrivedthismorningfromIceland,andintheafternoonhecameovertoseemewhileIwasout.Poorlad,hehadtearsinhiseyes,too.Hecamerightuptomydoor,mykindGaud,tocarrymylittlefagot."105 ANICELANDFISHERMANShelistened,standing,whileherheartseemedalmosttobreak;sothisvisitofYann's,uponwhichshehadsomuchreliedforsayingsomanythings,wasalreadyover,andwoulddoubtlessnotoccuragain.Itwasalldone.Herpoorheartseemedmorelonelythanever.Hermiseryharder,andtheworldmoreempty;andshehungherheadwithawilddesiretodie.CHAPTERXIVTHEGRANDAMBREAKINGUPSlowlythewinterdrewnigh,andspreadoveralllikeashroudleisurelydrawn.Graydaysfollowedoneanother,butYannappearednomore,andthetwowomenlivedonintheirloneliness.Withthecold,theirdailyexistencebecameharderandmoreexpensive.OldYvonnewasdifficulttotend,too;herpoormindwasgoing.Shegotintofitsoftempernow,andspokewicked,insultingspeechesonceortwiceeveryweek;ittookherso,likeachild,aboutmerenothings.Pooroldgranny!Shewasstillsosweetinherluciddays,thatGauddidnotceasetorespectandcherishher.Tohavealwaysbeensogoodandtoendbybeingbad,andshowtowardsthecloseadepthofmaliceandspitefulnessthathadslumberedduringherwholelife,touseawholevocabularyofcoarsewordsthatshehadhidden;whatmockeryofthesoul!whataderisivemystery!Shebegantosing,too,whichwasstillmorepainfultohearthanherangrywords,forshemixedeverythinguptogether--the/oremus/ofamasswithrefrainsofloosesongsheardintheharbourfromwanderingsailors.Sometimesshesang"/LesFillettesdePaimpol/"(TheLassesofPaimpol),or,noddingherheadandbeatingtimewithherfoot,shewouldmutter:"Monmarivientdepartir;Pourlapeched'Islande,monmarivientdepartir,Ilm'alaisseesanslesou,Mais--trala,tralalalou,J'engagne,j'engagne."(MyhusbandwentoffsailingUpontheIcelandcruise,Butneverleftmemoney,Note'enacouplesous.But--ritooloo!ritooralloo!Iknowwhattodo!)106 ANICELANDFISHERMANShealwaysstoppedshort,whilehereyesopenedwidewithalifelessexpression,likethosedyingflamesthatsuddenlyflashoutbeforefadingaway.Shehungherheadandremainedspeechlessforagreatlengthoftime,herlowerjawdroppingasinthedead.Onedayshecouldremembernothingofhergrandson."Sylvestre?Sylvestre?"repeatedshe,wonderingwhomGaudmeant;"oh!mydear,d'yesee,I'vesomanyofthem,thatnowIcan'tremembertheirnames!"Sosayingshethrewupherpoorwrinkledhands,withacareless,almostcontemptuoustoss.Butthenextdaysherememberedhimquitewell;mentioningseveralthingshehadsaidordone,andthatwholedaylongshewept.Oh!thoselongwintereveningswhentherewasnotenoughwoodfortheirfire;toworkinthebittercoldforone'sdailybread,sewinghardtofinishtheclothesbroughtoverfromPaimpol.GrannyYvonne,sittingbythehearth,remainedquietenough,herfeetstuckinamongthesmoulderingembers,andherhandsclaspedbeneathherapron.Butatthebeginningoftheevening,Gaudalwayshadtotalktohertocheerheralittle."Whydon'tyespeaktome,mygoodgirl?InmytimeI'veknownmanygirlswhohadplentytosayforthemselves.Idon'tthinkit'udseemsolonesome,ifye'donlytalkabit."SoGaudwouldtellherchit-chatshehadheardintown,orspokeofthepeopleshehadmetonherwayhome,talkingofthingsthatwerequiteindifferenttoher,asindeedallthingswerenow;andstoppinginthemidstofherstorieswhenshesawthepooroldwomanwasfallingasleep.Thereseemednothinglivelyoryouthfularoundher,whosefreshyouthyearnedforyouth.Herbeautywouldfadeaway,lonelyandbarren.Thewindfromtheseacameinfromallsides,blowingherlampabout,andtheroarofthewavescouldbeheardasinaship.Listening,theever-presentsadmemoryofYanncametoher,themanwhosedominionwasthesebattlingelements;throughthelongterriblenights,whenallthingswereunbridledandhowlingintheouterdarkness,shethoughtofhimwithagony.Alwaysaloneasshewas,withthesleepingoldgranny,shesometimes107 ANICELANDFISHERMANgrewfrightenedandlookedinalldarkcorners,thinkingofthesailors,herancestors,whohadlivedinthesenooks,butperishedintheseaonsuchnightsasthese.Theirspiritsmightpossiblyreturn;andshedidnotfeelassuredagainstthevisitofthedeadbythepresenceofthepooroldwoman,whowasalmostasoneofthemherself.Suddenlysheshiveredfromheadtofoot,assheheardathin,crackedvoice,asifstifledundertheearth,proceedfromthechimneycorner.Inachirpingtone,whichchilledherverysoul,thevoicesang:"Pourlapeched'Islande,monmarivientdepartir,Ilm'alaisseesanslesou,Mais--trala,tralalalou!"Thenshewasseizedwiththatpeculiarterrorthatonehasofmadpeople.Therainfellwithanunceasing,fountain-likegush,andstreameddownthewallsoutside.Therewereoozingsofwaterfromtheoldmoss-grownroof,whichcontinueddroppingontheself-samespotswithamonotonoussadsplash.Theyevensoakedthroughintothefloorinside,whichwasofhardenedearthstuddedwithpebblesandshells.Dampnesswasfeltonallsides,wrappingthemupinitschillmasses;anuneven,buffetingdampness,mistyanddark,andseemingtoisolatethescatteredhutsofPloubazlanecstillmore.ButtheSundayeveningswerethesaddestofall,becauseoftherelativegaietyinotherhomesonthatday,fortherearejoyfuleveningsevenamongthoseforgottenhamletsofthecoast;hereandthere,fromsomeclosed-uphut,beatenaboutbytheinkyrains,ponderoussongsissued.Within,tableswerespreadfordrinkers;sailorssatbeforethesmokingfire,theoldonesdrinkingbrandyandtheyoungonesflirtingwiththegirls;allmoreorlessintoxicatedandsingingtodeadenthought.Closetothem,thegreatsea,theirtombonthemorrow,sangalso,fillingthevacantnightwithitsimmenseprofoundvoice.OnsomeSundays,partiesofyoungfellowswhocameoutofthetavernsorbackfromPaimpol,passedalongtheroad,nearthedooroftheMoans;theyweresuchaslivedattheland'sendofPors-Evenway.Theypassedverylate,caringlittleforthecoldandwet,accustomedastheyweretofrostandtempests.Gaudlenthereartothemedleyoftheirsongs108 ANICELANDFISHERMANandshouts--soonlostintheuproarofthesquallsorthebreakers--tryingtodistinguishYann'svoice,andthenfeelingstrangelyperplexedifshethoughtshehadheardit.ItreallywastoounkindofYannnottohavereturnedtoseethemagain,andtoleadsogayalifesosoonafterthedeathofSylvestre;allthiswasunlikehim.No,shereallycouldnotunderstandhimnow,butinspiteofallshecouldnotforgethimorbelievehimtobewithoutheart.Thefactwasthatsincehisreturnhehadbeenleadingamostdissipatedlifeindeed.Threeorfourtimes,onthePloubazlanecroad,shehadseenhimcomingtowardsher,butshewasalwaysquickenoughtoshunhim;andhe,too,inthosecases,tooktheoppositedirectionovertheheath.Asifbymutualunderstanding,now,theyfledfromeachother.CHAPTERXVTHENEWSHIPAtPaimpollivesalarge,stoutwomannamedMadameTressoleur.Inoneofthestreetsthatleadtotheharbourshekeepsatavern,wellknowntoalltheIcelanders,wherecaptainsandship-ownerscometoengagetheirsailors,andchoosethestrongestamongthem,menandmastersalldrinkingtogether.Atonetimeshehadbeenbeautiful,andwasstilljollywiththefishers;shehasamustache,isasbroadbuiltasaDutchman,andasboldandreadyofspeechasaLevantine.Thereisalookofthedaughteroftheregimentabouther,notwithstandingheramplenun-likemuslinheadgear;forallthat,areligioushaloofitssortfloatsaroundher,forthesimplereasonthatsheisaBretonborn.Thenamesofallthesailorsofthecountryarewritteninherheadasinaregister;sheknowsthemall,goodorbad,andknowsexactly,too,whattheyearnandwhattheyareworth.OneJanuaryday,Gaud,whohadbeencalledintomakeadress,satdowntoworkinaroombehindthetap-room.TogointotheabodeofourMadameTressoleur,youenterbyabroad,massive-pillareddoor,whichrecedesintheoldenstyleunderthefirst109 ANICELANDFISHERMANfloor.Whenyougotoopenthisdoor,thereisalwayssomeobliginggustofwindfromthestreetthatpushesitin,andthenew-comersmakeanabruptentrance,asifcarriedinbyabeachroller.Thehallisadornedbygiltframes,containingpicturesofshipsandwrecks.InanangleachinastatuetteoftheVirginisplacedonabracket,betweentwobunchesofartificialflowers.Theseoldenwallsmusthavelistenedtomanypowerfulsongsofsailors,andwitnessedmanywildgayscenes,sincethefirstfar-offdaysofPaimpol--allthroughthelivelytimesoftheprivateers,uptotheseofthepresentIcelanders,soverylittledifferentfromtheirancestors.Manylivesofmenhavebeenangledforandhookedthere,ontheoakentables,betweentwodrunkenbouts.Whileshewassewingthedress,GaudlenthereartotheconversationgoingonaboutIceland,behindthepartition,betweenMadameTressoleurandtwooldsailors,drinking.Theywerediscussinganewcraftthatwasbeingriggedintheharbour.Sheneverwouldbereadyforthenextseason,sotheysaidofthis/Leopoldine/."Oh,yes,tobesureshewill!"answeredthehostess."Itell'eethecrewwasallmadeupyesterday--thewholeof'emoutoftheold/Marie/ofGuermeur's,that'stobesoldforbreakingup;fiveyoungfellowssignedtheirengagementherebeforeme,atthisheretable,andwithmyownpen--soyesee,I'mright!Andfinefellows,too,Icantell'ee;Laumec,TugdualCaroff,YvonDuff,youngKeraezfromTreguier,andlongYannGaosfromPors-Even,who'sworthanythreeon'em!"The/Leopoldine/!Thehalf-heardnameoftheshipthatwastocarryYannawaybecamesuddenlyfixedinherbrain,asifithadbeenhammeredintoremainmoreineffaceablythere.AtnightbackagainatPloubazlanec,andfinishingoffherworkbythelightofherpitifullamp,thatnamecamebacktohermind,anditsverysoundimpressedherasasadthing.Thenamesofvessels,asofthings,haveasignificanceinthemselves--almostaparticularmeaningoftheirown.Thenewandunusualwordhauntedherwithanunnaturalpersistency,likesomeghastlyandclingingwarning.ShehadexpectedtoseeYannstartoffagainonthe/Marie/,whichsheknewsowellandhadformerly110 ANICELANDFISHERMANvisited,andwhoseVirginhadsolongprotecteditsdangerousvoyages;andthechangetothe/Leopoldine/increasedheranguish.Butshetoldherselfthatthatwasnotherconcern,andnothingabouthimoughtevertoaffecther.Afterall,whatcoulditmattertoherwhetherhewerehereorthere,onthisshiporanother,ashoreornot?WouldshefeellessmiserablewithhimbackinIceland,whenthesummerwouldreturnoverthedesertedcottages,andlonelyanxiouswomen--orwhenanewautumncameagain,bringinghomethefishersoncemore?Allthatwasalikeindifferenttoher,equallywithoutjoyorhope.Therewasnolinkbetweenthemnow,nothingevertobringthemtogether,forwashenotforgettingevenpoorlittleSylvestre?So,shehadplainlytounderstandthatthissoledreamofherlifewasoverforever;shehadtoforgetYann,andallthingsappertainingtohisexistence,eventheverynameofIceland,whichstillvibratedinherwithsopainfulacharm--becauseofhimallsuchthoughtsmustbesweptaway.Allwasindeedover,foreverandever.Shetenderlylookedoveratthepooroldwomanasleep,whostillrequiredallherattention,butwhowouldsoondie.Then,whatwouldbethegoodoflivingandworkingafterthat;ofwhatusewouldshebe?Outofdoors,thewesternwindhadagainrisen;and,notwithstandingitsdeepdistantsoughing,thesoftregularpatteroftheeaves-droppingscouldbeheardastheydrippedfromtheroof.Andsothetearsoftheforsakenonebegantoflow--tearsrunningeventoherlipstoimparttheirbrinytaste,anddroppingsilentlyonherwork,likesummershowersbroughtbynobreeze,butsuddenlyfalling,hurriedandheavy,fromtheover-ladenclouds;asshecouldnolongerseetowork,andshefeltworkedoutanddiscouragedbeforethisgreathollownessofherlife,shefoldeduptheextra-sizedbodyofMadameTressoleurandwenttobed.Sheshivereduponthatfine,grandbed,for,likeallthingsinthecottage,itseemedalsotobegettingcolderanddamper.Butasshewasveryyoung,althoughshestillcontinuedweeping,itendedbyhergrowingwarmandfallingasleep.111 ANICELANDFISHERMANCHAPTERXVILONEANDLORNOthersadweeksfollowedon,tillitwasearlyFebruary,fine,temperateweather.Yannhadjustcomefromhisshipowner'swherehehadreceivedhiswagesforthelastsummer'sfishery,fifteenhundredfrancs,which,accordingtothecustomofthefamily,hecarriedtohismother.Thecatchhadbeenagoodone,andhereturnedwellpleased.NearingPloubazlanec,hespiedacrowdbythesideoftheroad.Anoldwomanwasgesticulatingwithherstick,whilethestreetboysmockedandlaughedaroundher.ItwasGrannyMoan.ThegoodoldgrannywhomSylvestrehadsotenderlyloved--herdresstornandbedraggled--hadnowbecomeoneofthosepooroldwomen,almostfallenbackinsecondchildhood,whoarefollowedandridiculedalongtheirroads.Thesighthurthimcruelly.TheboysofPloubazlanechadkilledhercat,andsheangrilyanddespairinglythreatenedthemwithherstick."Ah,ifmypoorladhadonlybeenhere!forsure,you'dneverdareddoit,youyoungrascals!"Itappearedthatassheranafterthemtobeatthem,shehadfallendown;hercapwasawry,andherdresscoveredwithmud;theycalledoutthatshewastipsy(asoftenhappenstothosepoorold"grizzling"peopleinthecountrywhohavemetmisfortune).ButYannclearlyknewthatthatwasnottrue,andthatshewasaveryrespectableoldwoman,whoonlydrankwater."Aren'tyouashamed?"roaredhetotheboys.Hewasveryangry,andhisvoiceandtonefrightenedthem,sothatinthetwinklingofaneyetheyalltookflight,frightenedandconfusedbefore"LongGaos."Gaud,whowasjustreturningfromPaimpol,bringinghomeherworkfortheevening,hadseenallthisfromafar,andhadrecognisedGrannyinthegroup.Sheeagerlyrushedforwardtolearnwhatthematterwas,andwhattheyhaddonetoher;seeingthecat,sheunderstooditall.SheliftedupherfrankeyestoYann,whodidnotlookaside;neitherthoughtofavoidingeachothernow;buttheybothblusheddeeplyandtheygazedratherstartledatbeingsonearoneanother;butwithouthatred,almost112 ANICELANDFISHERMANwithaffection,unitedastheywereinthiscommonimpulseofpityandprotection.Theschool-childrenhadowedagrudgetothepoordeadgrimalkinforsometime,becausehehadablack,sataniclook;thoughhewasreallyaverygoodcat,andwhenonelookedcloselyathim,hewassoftandcaress-invitingofcoat.Theyhadstonedhimtodeath,andoneofhiseyeshungout.Thepooroldwomanwentongrumbling,shakingwithemotion,andcarryingherdeadcatbythetail,likeadeadrabbit."Oh,dear,oh,dear!mypoorboy,mypoorlad,ifhewereonlyhere;forsure,they'dneverdareda-doit."Tearswerefallingdowninherpoorwrinkles;andherroughblue-veinedhandstrembled.Gaudhadputhercapstraightagain,andtriedtocomfortherwithsoothingwords.Yannwasquiteindignanttothinkthatlittlechildrencouldbesocruelastodosuchathingtoapooragedwomanandherpet.Tearsalmostcameintohiseyes,andhisheartachedforthepoorolddameashethoughtofSylvestre,whohadlovedhersodearly,andtheterriblepainitwouldhavebeentohimtoseeherthus,underderisionandinmisery.Gaudexcusedherselfasifshewereresponsibleforherstate."Shemusthavefallendown,"shesaidinalowvoice;"'tistrueherdressisn'tnew,forwe'renotveryrich,MonsieurYann;butImendeditagainonlyyesterday,andthismorningwhenIlefthomeI'msureshewasneatandtidy."Helookedathersteadfastly,moredeeplytouchedbythatsimpleexcusethanbycleverphrasesorself-reproachesandtears.SidebysidetheywalkedontotheMoans'cottage.Healwayshadacknowledgedhertobelovelierthananyothergirl,butitseemedtohimthatshewasevenmorebeautifulnowinherpovertyandmourning.Sheworeagraverlook,andhergrayeyeshadamorereservedexpression,andneverthelessseemedtopenetratetotheinnerdepthofthesoul.Herfigure,too,wasthoroughlyformed.Shewastwenty-threenow,inthefullbloomofherloveliness.Shelookedlikeagenuinefisher'sdaughter,too,inherplainblackgownandcap;yetonecouldnotpreciselytellwhatgaveherthatunmistakabletokenofthelady;itwasinvoluntaryandconcealedwithin113 ANICELANDFISHERMANherself,andshecouldnotbeblamedforit;onlyperhapsherbodicewasatriflenicerfittingthantheothers,thoughfromsheerinborntaste,andshowedtoadvantageherroundedbustandperfectarms.But,no!themysterywasrevealedinherquietvoiceandlook.CHAPTERXVIITHEESPOUSALItwasmanifestthatYannmeanttoaccompanythem;perhapsallthewayhome.Theywalkedon,allthreetogether,asiffollowingthecat'sfuneralprocession;itwasalmostcomicaltowatchthempass;andtheoldfolksonthedoorstepsgrinnedatthesight.OldYvonne,inthemiddle,carriedthedeadpet;Gaudwalkedonherright,tremblingandblushing,andtallYannontheleft,graveandhaughty.Theagedwomanhadbecomequietnow;shehadtidiedherhairupherselfandwalkedsilently,lookingalternatelyatthembothfromthetailofhereyes,whichhadbecomeclearagain.GaudsaidnothingforfearofgivingYanntheopportunityoftakinghisleave;shewouldhavelikedtofeelhiskind,tendereyeseternallyonher,andtowalkalongwithherownclosedsoastothinkofnothingelse;towanderalongthusbyhissideinthedreamshewasweaving,insteadofarrivingsosoonattheirlonely,darkcottage,whereallmustfadeaway.Atthedooroccurredoneofthosemomentsofindecisionwhentheheartseemstostopbeating.Thegrandamwentinwithoutturninground,thenGaud,hesitating,andYann,behind,entered,too.Hewasintheirhouseforthefirsttimeinhislife--probablywithoutanyreason.Whatcouldhewant?Ashepassedoverthethresholdhetouchedhishat,andthenhiseyesfellanddweltuponSylvestre'sportraitinitssmallblack-beadedframe.Hewentslowlyuptoit,astoatomb.Gaudremainedstandingwithherhandsrestingonthetable.Helookedaroundhim;shewatchedhimtakeasilentinspectionoftheirpoverty.Verypoorlookedthiscottageofthetwoforsakenwomen.Atleasthemightfeelsomepityforher,seeingherreducedtothismiseryinsideitsplaingraniteandwhitewash.Onlythefinewhitebedremainedofallpastsplendour,114 ANICELANDFISHERMANandinvoluntarilyYann'seyesrestedthere.Hesaidnothing.Whydidhenotgo?Theoldgrandmother,althoughstillsosharpinherlucidintervals,appearednottonoticehim.Howodd!Sotheyremainedoveragainstoneanother,seemingrespectivelytoquestionwithayearningdesire.Butthemomentswereflitting,andeachsecondseemedtoemphasizethesilencebetweenthem.Theygazedatoneanothermoreandmoresearchingly,asifinsolemnexpectationofsomewonderful,exquisiteevent,whichwastoolongincoming."Gaud,"hebegan,inalowgravevoice,"ifyou'restillofamindnow----"Whatwashegoingtosay?Shefeltinstinctivelythathehadsuddenlytakenamightyresolution--rapidlyashealwaysdid,buthardlydaredwordit."Ifyoubestillofamind--d'yesee,thefishhassoldwellthisyear,andI'vealittlemoneyahead----""Ifshewerestillofamind!"Whatwasheaskingofher?Hadsheheardaright?Shefeltalmostcrushedundertheimmensityofwhatshethoughtshepremised.Allthewhile,oldYvonne,inhercorner,prickedupherears,feelinghappinessapproach."Wecouldmakeaspliceonit--amarriage,rightoff,MademoiselleGaud,ifyouarestillofthesamemind?"Helistenedhereforheranswer,whichdidnotcome.Whatcouldstopherfrompronouncingthat"yes?"Helookedastonishedandfrightened,shecouldseethat.Herhandsclutchedthetableedge.Shehadturnedquitewhiteandhereyesweremisty;shewasvoiceless,andlookedlikesomemaiddyinginherflower."Well,Gaud,whydon'tyouanswer?"saidGrannyYvonne,whohadrisenandcometowardsthem."Don'tyousee,itrathersurprisesher,MonsieurYann.Youmustexcuseher.She'llthinkitoverandansweryoulateron.Sityoudownabit,MonsieurYann,andtakeaglassofciderwithus."Itwasnotthesurprise,butecstasythatpreventedGaudfromanswering;nowordsatallcametoherrelief.Soitreallywastruethathe115 ANICELANDFISHERMANwasgoodandkind-hearted.Sheknewhimaright--thesametrueYann,herown,suchassheneverhadceasedtoseehim,notwithstandinghissternnessandhisroughrefusal.Foralongtimehehaddisdainedher,butnowheacceptedher,althoughshewaspoor.Nodoubtithadbeenhiswishallthrough;hemayhavehadamotiveforsoacting,whichshewouldknowhereafter;but,forthepresent,shehadnointentionofaskinghimhismeaning,orofreproachinghimforhertwoyearsofpining.Besides,allthatwaspast,ay,andforgottennow;inonesinglemomenteverythingseemedcarriedawaybeforethedelightfulwhirlwindthatsweptoverherlife!Stillspeechless,shetoldhimofhergreatloveandadorationforhimbyhersweetbrimmingeyesalone;shelookeddeeplyandsteadilyathim,whilethecopiousshowerofhappytearspouredadownherroseatecheeks."Welldone!andGodblessyou,mychildren,"saidGrannyMoan."It'sthankfulIbetoHim,too,forI'mgladtohavebeenletgrowsooldtoseethishappythingaforeIgo."Stilltheretheyremained,standingbeforeoneanotherwithclaspedhands,findingnowordstoutter;knowingofnowordsweetenough,andnosentenceworthytobreakthatexquisitesilence."Whydon'tyekissoneanother,mychildren?Lor'!butthey'redumb!Dearme,whatstrangegrandchildrenIhavehere!Pluckup,Gaud;saysome'attohim,mydear.Inmytimeloverskissedwhentheyplightedtheirtroth."Yannraisedhishat,asifsuddenlyseizedwithavast,heretoforeunfeltreverence,beforebendingdowntokissGaud.Itseemedtohimthatthiswasthefirstkissworthyofthenameheeverhadgiveninhislife.Shekissedhimalso,pressingherfreshlips,unusedtorefinementsofcaresses,withherwholeheart,tohissea-bronzedcheek.Amongthestonesthecricketsangofhappiness,beingrightforthistime.AndSylvestre'spitifulinsignificantportraitseemedtosmileonthemoutofitsblackframe.Allthings,infact,seemedsuddenlytothrobwithlifeandwithjoyintheblightedcottage.Theverysilenceapparentlyburstintoexquisitemusic;andthepalewintertwilight,creepinginatthenarrowwindow,becameawonderful,unearthlyglow.116 ANICELANDFISHERMAN"Sowe'llgototheweddingwhentheIcelandersreturn;eh,mydearchildren?"Gaudhungherhead."Iceland,"the"/Leopoldine/"--soitwasallreal!whileshehadalreadyforgottentheexistenceofthoseterriblethingsthataroseintheirway."WhentheIcelandersreturn."Howlongthatanxioussummerwaitingwouldseem!Yanndrummedonthefloorwithhisfootfeverishlyandrapidly.Heseemedtobeinagreathurrytobeoffandback,andwastellingthedaystoknowif,withoutlosingtime,theywouldbeabletogetmarriedbeforehissailing.Somanydaystogettheofficialpapersfilledandsigned;somanyforthebanns:thatwouldonlybringthemuptothetwentiethortwenty-fifthofthemonthforthewedding,andifnothingroseintheway,theycouldhaveawholehoneymoonweektogetherbeforehesailed."I'mgoingtostartbytellingmyfather,"saidhe,withasmuchhasteasifeachmomentoftheirliveswerenownumberedandprecious.117 ANICELANDFISHERMANPARTIVYANN'SFIRSTWEDDINGCHAPTERITHECOURTINGBYTHESEAAllsweetheartsliketositonthebenchattheircottagedoor,whennightfalls.YannandGauddidthatlikewise.EveryeveningtheysatouttogetherbeforetheMoans'cottage,ontheoldgraniteseat,andtalkedlove.Othershavethespring-time,thesoftshadowofthetrees,balmyevenings,andfloweringrosebushes;theyhadonlytheFebruarytwilight,whichfelloverthesea-beatenland,strewnwitheel-grassandstones.Therewasnobranchofverdureabovetheirheadsoraroundthem;nothingbuttheimmensesky,overwhichpassedtheslowlywanderingmists.Andtheirflowerswerebrownsea-weeds,drawnupfromthebeachbythefishers,astheydraggedtheirnetsalong.Thewintersarenotverysevereinthispartofthecountry,beingtemperedbycurrentsofthesea;but,notwithstandingthat,thegloamingwasoftenladenwithinvisibleicyrain,whichfellupontheirshouldersastheysattogether.Buttheyremainedthere,feelingwarmandhappy.Thebench,whichwasmorethanahundredyearsold,didnotseemintheleastsurprisedattheirlove,havingseenmanyotherpairsinitstime;ithadlistenedtomanysoftwords,whicharealwaysthesameonthelipsoftheyoung,fromgenerationtogeneration;andithadbecomeusedtoseeingloverssituponitagain,whentheyreturnedtoitoldandtrembling;butinthebroadday,thistime,towarmthemselvesinthelastsuntheywouldsee.FromtimetotimeGrannyMoanwouldputherheadoutatthedoortohavealookatthem,andtrytoinducethemtocomein."You'llcatchcold,mygoodchildren,"saidshe,"andthenyou'llfallill--Lordknows,itreallyisn'tsensibletoremainoutsolate."118 ANICELANDFISHERMANCold!theycold?Weretheyconsciousofanythingelsebesidestheblissofbeingtogether.Thepassers-byintheeveningdowntheirpathway,heardthesoftmurmuroftwovoicesminglingwiththevoiceofthesea,downbelowatthefootofthecliffs.Itwasamostharmoniousmusic;Gaud'ssweet,freshvoicealternatedwithYann's,whichhadsoft,caressingnotesinthelowertones.Theirprofilescouldbeclearlydistinguishedonthegranitewallagainstwhichtheyreclined;Gaudwithherwhiteheadgearandslenderblack-robedfigure,andbesideherthebroad,squareshouldersofherbeloved.Behindandaboverosetheraggeddomeofthestrawthatch,andthedarkening,infinite,andcolourlesswasteoftheseaandskyfloatedoverall.Finally,theydidgointositdownbythehearth,whereuponoldYvonneimmediatelynoddedofftosleep,anddidnottroublethetwoloversverymuch.Sotheywentoncommuninginalowvoice,havingtomakeupfortwoyearsofsilence;theyhadtohurryontheircourtshipbecauseitwastolastsoshortatime.ItwasarrangedthattheyweretolivewithGrannyMoan,whowouldleavethemthecottageinherwill;forthepresent,theymadenoalterationsinit,forwantoftime,andputofftheirplanforembellishingtheirpoorlonelyhomeuntilthefisherman'sreturnfromIceland.CHAPTERIITHESEAMAN'SSECRETOneeveningYannamusedhimselfbyrelatingtohisaffiancedathousandthingsshehaddone,orwhichhadhappenedtohersincetheirfirstmeeting;heevenenumeratedtoherthedifferentdressesshehadhad,andthejollificationstowhichshehadbeen.Shelistenedingreatsurprise.Howdidheknowallthis?Whowouldhavethoughtofamaneverpayinganyattentiontosuchmatters,andbeingcapableofrememberingsoclearly?Butheonlysmiledatherinamysteriousway,andwentonmentioningotherfactstoherthatshehadaltogetherforgotten.119 ANICELANDFISHERMANShedidnotinterrupthim;nay,shebutlethimcontinue,whileanunexpecteddeliciousjoywelledupinherheart;shebegan,atlength,todivineandunderstandeverything.He,too,hadloved--lovedher,throughthatwearytime.Shehadbeenhisconstantthought,ashewasguilelesslyconfessing.But,inthiscase,whathadbeenhisreasonforrepellingheratfirstandmakinghersuffersolong?Therealwaysremainedthismysterythathehadpromisedtoexplaintoher--yetstillseemedtoelude--withaconfused,incomprehensiblesmile.CHAPTERIIITHEOMINOUSWEDDING-DRESSOnefineday,thelovingpairwentovertoPaimpol,withGrannyMoan,tobuythewedding-dress.Gaudcouldveryeasilyhavedoneoveroneofherformertown-lady'sdressesfortheoccasion.ButYannhadwantedtomakeherthispresent,andshehadnotresistedtoolongthehavingadressgivenbyherbetrothed,andpaidforbythemoneyhehadearnedathisfishing;itseemedasifshewerealreadyhiswifebythisact.Theychoseblack,forGaudhadnotyetleftoffmourningforherfather;butYanndidnotfindanyofthestuffstheyplacedbeforethemgoodenough.Hewasnotalittleoverbearingwiththeshopman;he,whoformerlyneverwouldhavesethisfootinsideashop,wantedtomanageeverythinghimself,eventotheveryfashionofthedress.Hewisheditadornedwithbroadbeadsofvelvet,sothatitwouldbeveryfine,inhismind.CHAPTERIVFLOWEROFTHETHORNOneeveningastheseloverssatoutontheirstonebenchinthesolitudeoverwhichthenightfell,theysuddenlyperceivedahawthornbush,whichgrewsolitarilybetweentherocks,bythesideoftheroad,coveredwith120 ANICELANDFISHERMANtinyfloweredtufts."Itlooksasif'twasinbloom,"saidYann.Theydrewneartoinspectit.Itwasinfullflower,indeed.Astheycouldnotseeverywellinthetwilight,theytouchedthetinyblooms,wetwithmist.Thenthefirstimpressionofspringcametothematthesametimetheynoticedthis;thedayshadalreadylengthened,theairwaswarmer,andthenightmoreluminous.Buthowforwardthisparticularbushwas!Theycouldnotfindanotherlikeitanywherearound,notone!Ithadblossomed,yousee,expresslyforthem,forthecelebrationoftheirlovingplight."Oh!letusgathersomemore,"saidYann.Gropinginthedark,hecutanosegaywiththestoutsailor'sknifethathealwaysworeinhisbelt,andparingoffallthethorns,heplaceditinGaud'sbosom."Youlooklikeabridenow,"saidhe,steppingbacktojudgeoftheeffect,notwithstandingthedeepeningdusk.Attheirfeetthecalmsearoseandfellovertheshinglewithanintermittentswash,regularasthebreathingofasleeper;foritseemedindifferentoreverfavourabletothelove-makinggoingonhardby.Inexpectationoftheseeveningsthedaysappearedlongtothem,andwhentheybadeeachothergood-byeatteno'clock,theyfeltakindofdiscouragement,becauseitwasallsosoonover.Theyhadtohurrywiththeofficialdocumentsforfearofnotbeingreadyintime,andoflettingtheirhappinessslipbyuntiltheautumn,orevenuncertainty.Theireveningcourtshipinthatmournfulspot,lulledbythecontinualevenwashofthesea,withthatfeverishimpressionoftheflightoftime,wasalmostgloomyandominous.Theywerelikenolovers;moreseriousandrestlessweretheyintheirlovethanthecommonrun.YetYannnevertoldherwhatmysteriousthinghadkepthimawayfromherforthesetwolonelyyears;andafterhereturnedhomeofanight,Gaudgrewuneasyasbefore,althoughhelovedherperfectly--thissheknew.Itistruethathehadlovedherallalong,butnotasnow;lovegrewstrongerinhisheartandmind,likeatiderisingandoverbrimming.He121 ANICELANDFISHERMANneverhadknownthiskindoflovebefore.Sometimesontheirstoneseathelaydown,restinghisheadinGaud'slaplikeacaressingchild,till,suddenlyrememberingpropriety,hewoulddrawhimselfuperect.Hewouldhavelikedtolieontheverygroundatherfeet,andremaintherewithhisbrowpressedtothehemofhergarments.Exceptingthebrotherlykisshegaveherwhenhecameandwent,hedidnotdaretoembraceher.Headoredthatinvisiblespiritinher,whichappearedintheverysoundofherpure,tranquilvoice,theexpressionofhersmile,andinhercleareye.CHAPTERVTHECOSTOFOBSTINACYOnerainyeveningtheyweresittingsidebysidenearthehearth,andGrannyMoanwasasleepoppositethem.Thefireflames,dancingoverthebranchesonthehearth,projectedtheirmagnifiedshadowsonthebeamsoverhead.Theyspoketooneanotherinthatlowvoiceofalllovers.Butuponthisparticulareveningtheirconversationwasnowandagainbrokenbylongtroubledsilence.He,inparticular,saidverylittleandloweredhisheadwithafaintsmile,avoidingGaud'sinquiringeyes.Forshehadbeenpressinghimwithquestionsalltheeveningconcerningthatmysterythathepositivelywouldnotdivulge;andthistimehefelthimselfcornered.Shewastooquickforhim,andhadfullymadeuphermindtolearn;nopossibleshiftscouldgethimoutoftellinghernow."Wasitanybadtalestoldaboutme?"sheasked.Hetriedtoanswer"yes,"andfaltered:"Oh!therewasalwaysplentyofrubbishbabbledinPaimpolandPloubazlanec."Sheaskedwhat,buthecouldnotanswerher;sothenshethoughtofsomethingelse."Wasitaboutmystyleofdress,Yann?"Yes,ofcourse,thathadhadsomethingtodowithit;atonetimeshehaddressedtoograndlytobethewifeofasimplefisherman.Buthewasobligedtoacknowledgethatthatwasnotall."Wasitbecauseatthattimewepassedforveryrichpeople,andyou122 ANICELANDFISHERMANwereafraidofbeingrefused?""Oh,no!notthat."HesaidthiswithsuchsimpleconfidencethatGaudwasamused.Thenfellanothersilence,duringwhichthemoaningofthesea-windswasheardoutside.Lookingattentivelyathim,afreshideastruckher,andherexpressionchanged."Ifnotanythingofthatsort,Yann,/what/wasit?"demandedshe,suddenly,lookingathimfairintheeyes,withtheirresistiblequestioninglookofonewhoguessesthetruth,andcoulddispensewithconfirmation.Heturnedaside,laughingoutright.Soatlastshehad,indeed,guessedaright;henevercouldgiveherarealreason,becausetherewasnonetogive.Hehadsimply"playedthemule"(asSylvestrehadsaidlongago).ButeverybodyhadteasedhimsomuchaboutthatGaud,hisparents,Sylvestre,hisIcelandmates,andevenGaudherself.Hencehehadstubbornlysaid"no,"butknewwellenoughinthebottomofhisheartthatwhennobodythoughtanymoreaboutthehollowmysteryitwouldbecome"yes."SoitwasonaccountofYann'schildishnessthatGaudhadbeenlanguishing,forsakenfortwolongyears,andhadlongedtodie.AtfirstYannlaughed,butnowhelookedatGaudwithkindeyes,questioningdeeply.Wouldsheforgivehim?Hefeltsuchremorseforhavingmadehersuffer.Wouldsheforgivehim?"It'smytemperthatdoesit,Gaud,"saidhe."Athomewithmyfolks,it'sthesamething.Sometimes,whenI'mstubborn,Iremainawholeweekangeredagainstthem,withoutspeakingtoanybody.YetyouknowhowIlovethem,andIalwaysendbydoingwhattheywish,likeaboy.IfyouthinkthatIwashappytoliveunmarried,you'remistaken.No,itcouldn'thavelastedanyway,Gaud,youmaybesure."Ofcourse,sheforgavehim.Asshefeltthesofttearsfall,sheknewtheyweretheoutflowofherlastpangsvanishingbeforeYann'sconfession.Besides,thepresentneverwouldhavebeensohappywithoutallhersuffering;thatbeingover,shewasalmostpleasedathavinggonethroughthattimeoftrial.Everythingwasfinallyclearedupbetweenthem,inaveryunexpected123 ANICELANDFISHERMANthoughcompletemanner;thereremainednocloudsbetweentheirsouls.Hedrewhertowardshim,andtheyremainedsometimewiththeircheekspressedclose,requiringnofurtherexplanations.Sochastewastheirembrace,thattheoldgrandamsuddenlyawaking,theyremainedbeforeherastheywerewithoutanyconfusionorembarrassment.CHAPTERVITHEBRIDALItwassixdaysbeforethesailingforIceland.TheirweddingprocessionwasreturningfromPloubazlanecChurch,drivenbeforeafuriouswind,underasombre,rain-ladensky.Theylookedveryhandsome,nevertheless,astheywalkedalongasinadream,arm-in-arm,likekingandqueenleadingalongcortege.Calm,reserved,andgrave,theyseemedtoseenothingaboutthem;asiftheywereaboveordinarylifeandeverybodyelse.Theverywindseemedtorespectthem,whilebehindthemtheir"train"wasajollymedleyoflaughingcouples,tumbledandbuffetedbytheangrywesterngale.Manypeoplewerepresent,overflowingwithyounglife;othersturninggray,butthesestillsmiledastheythoughtof/their/wedding-dayandyoungeryears.GrannyYvonnewasthereandfollowing,too,pantingalittle,butsomethinglikehappy,hangingonthearmofanolduncleofYann's,whowaspayingherold-fashionedcompliments.Sheworeagrandnewcap,boughtfortheoccasion,andhertinyshawl,whichhadbeendyedathirdtime,andblack,becauseofSylvestre.Thewindworriedeverybody;dressesandskirts,bonnetsand/coiffes/,weresimilarlytossedaboutmercilessly.Atthechurchdoor,thenewlymarriedcouple,pursuanttocustom,hadboughttwonosegaysofartificialflowers,tocompletetheirbridalattire.Yannhadfastenedhisonanyhowuponhisbroadchest,buthewasoneofthosemenwhomanythingbecomes.AsforGaud,therewasstillsomethingoftheladyaboutthemannerinwhichshehadplacedtherudeflowersinherbodice,asofoldveryclosefittingtoherunrivalledform.Theviolinplayer,wholedthewholeband,bewilderedbythewind,124 ANICELANDFISHERMANplayedatrandom;histuneswereheardbyfitsandstartsbetwixtthenoisygusts,androseasshrillasthescreamingofasea-gull.AllPloubazlanechadturnedouttolookatthem.Thismarriageseemedtoexcitepeople'ssympathy,andmanyhadcomefromfararound;ateachturnoftheroadthereweregroupsstationedtoseethempass.NearlyallYann'smates,theIcelandersofPaimpol,werethere.Theycheeredthebrideandbridegroomastheypassed;Gaudreturnedtheirgreeting,bowingslightlylikeatownlady,withseriousgrace;andallalongthewayshewasgreatlyadmired.Thedarkestandmostsecludedhamletsaround,eventhoseinthewoods,hadbeenemptiedofalltheirbeggars,cripples,wastrels,poor,andidiotsoncrutches;thesewretchesscatteredalongtheroad,withaccordionsandhurdy-gurdies;theyheldouttheirhandsandhatstoreceivethealmsthatYannthrewtothemwithhisownnoblelookandGaudwithherbeautifulqueenlysmile.Someofthesepoorwaifswereveryoldandworegraylocksonheadsthathadneverheldmuch;crouchinginthehollowsoftheroadside,theywereofthesamecolourastheearthfromwhichtheyseemedtohavesprung,butsounformedassoontobereturnedwithouteverhavinghadanyhumanthoughts.Theirwanderingglanceswereasindecipherableasthemysteryoftheirabortiveanduselessexistences.Withoutcomprehending,theylookedatthemerrymakers'linepassby.ItwentonbeyondPors-EvenandtheGaoses'home.TheymeanttofollowtheancientbridaltraditionofPloubazlanecandgotothechapelofLaTrinite,whichissituatedattheveryendoftheBretoncountry.Atthefootoftheoutermostcliff,itrestsonathresholdoflow-lyingrocksclosetothewater,andseemsalmosttobelongtotheseaalready.Anarrowgoat'spathleadsdowntoitthroughmassesofgranite.Theweddingpartyspreadovertheinclineoftheforsakencapehead;andamongtherocksandstones,happywordswerelostintheroarofthewindandthesurf.Itwasuselesstotryandreachthechapel;inthisboisterousweatherthepathwasnotsafe,theseacametooclosewithitshighrollers.Itswhite-crestedspoutssprangupintheair,soastobreakovereverythinginaceaselessshower.125 ANICELANDFISHERMANYann,whohadadvancedthefarthestwithGaudonhisarm,wasthefirsttoretreatbeforethespray.Behind,hisweddingpartyhadremainedstrewnabouttherocks,inasemicircle;itseemedasifhehadcometopresenthiswifetothesea,whichreceivedherwithscowling,ill-bodingaspect.Turninground,hecaughtsightoftheviolinistperchedonagrayrock,tryingvainlytoplayhisdancetunesbetweengustsofwind."Putupyourmusic,mylad,"saidYann;"oldNeptuneisplayingusaliveliertunethanyours."Aheavilybeatingshower,whichhadthreatenedsincemorning,begantofall.Therewasamadrushthen,accompaniedbyoutcriesandlaughter,toclimbupthebluffandtakerefugeattheGaoses'.CHAPTERVIITHEDISCORDANTNOTETheweddingbreakfastwasgivenatYann'sparents',becauseGaud'shomewassopoor.Ittookplaceupstairsinthegreatnewroom.Five-and-twentyguestssatdownroundthenewlymarriedpair--sistersandbrothers,cousinGaosthepilot,Guermeur,Keraez,YvonDuff,alloftheold/Marie's/crew,whowerenowthe/Leopoldine's/;fourveryprettybridesmaids,withtheirhair-plaitswoundroundtheirears,liketheempresses'inancientByzantium,andtheirmodernwhitecaps,shapedlikesea-shells;andfourbestmen,allbroad-shoulderedIcelanders,withlargeproudeyes.Downstairs,ofcourse,therewaseatingandcookinggoingon;thewholetrainoftheweddingprocessionhadgatheredthereindisorder;andtheextraservants,hiredfromPaimpol,well-nighlosttheirsensesbeforethemightylumberingupofthecapacioushearthwithpotsandpans.Yann'sparentswouldhavewishedaricherwifefortheirson,naturally,butGaudwasknownnowasagood,courageousgirl;andthen,inspiteofherlostfortune,shewasthegreatestbeautyinthecountry,anditflatteredthemtoseethecouplesowellmatched.Theoldfatherwasinclinedtobemerryafterthesoup,andspokeof126 ANICELANDFISHERMANthebringingupofhisfourteenlittleGaoses;buttheywerealldoingwell,thankstothetenthousandfrancsthathadmadethemwelloff.NeighbourGuermeurrelatedthetricksheplayedinthenavy,yarnsaboutChina,theWestIndies,andBrazil,makingtheyoungoneswhowouldbeoffsomeday,opentheireyesinwonderment."Thereisacryagainstthesea-service,"saidtheoldsailor,laughing,"butamancanhavefinefuninit."Theweatherdidnotclearup;onthecontrary,thewindandrainragedthroughthegloomynight;andinspiteofthecaretaken,someoftheguestswerefidgetyabouttheirsmacksanchoredintheharbour,andspokeofgettinguptogoandseeifallwasright.Buthereamorejovialsoundthaneverwasheardfromdownstairs,wheretheyoungermembersofthepartyweresuppingtogether;cheersofjoyandpealsoflaughterascended.Thelittlecousinswerebeginningtofeelexhilaratedbythecider.Boiledandroastedmeatshadbeenservedupwithpoultry,differentkindsoffish,omeletsandpancakes.Thedebatehadturneduponfisheryandsmuggling,andthebestmeansoffoolingthecoast-guardsmen,who,asweallknow,aretheswornenemiesofhonestseafarers.Upstairs,atthegrandtable,oldcircumnavigatorswentsofarastorelatedrollstories,inthevernacular.Butthewindwasragingaltogethertoostrong;forthewindowsshookwithaterribleclatter,andthemantellingthetalehadhurriedlyendedtogoandseetohissmack.Thenanotherwenton:"WhenIwasbo's'n'smateaboardofthe/Zenobie/,a-lyingatAden,anda-doingthedutyofacorporalofmarines,bythesametoken,yououghttoha'seentheostridgefeathertradersa-tryingtoscrambleupovertheside.[/Imitatingthebrokentalk/]'Bon-joo,cap'n!we'renotthiefs--we'rehonestmerchants'--Honest,myeye!withasweepofthebucket,apurtendingtodrawsomewaterup,Isent'emallflyingbackanoar'slength.'Honestmerchants,areye,'saysI,'thensendusupabunchofhonestfeathersfirst--withaharddollarortwointhecoreofit,d'yesee,andthenI'llbelieveinyourhonesty!'Why,Icouldha'mademyfortun'outofthembeggars,ifIhadn'tbeenbornandbroughtup127 ANICELANDFISHERMANhonestmyself,andbutasucking-doveinwisdom,sayingnothingofmyhavingasweetheartatTouloninthemillineryline,whocouldhaveusedanyquantityoffeathers----"Ha!here'soneofYann'slittlebrothers,afutureIcelandfisherman,withafreshpinkfaceandbrighteyes,whoissuddenlytakenillfromhavingdrunktoomuchcider.SolittleLaumechastobecarriedoff,whichcutsshortthestoryofthemillinerandthefeathers.Thewindwailedinthechimneylikeanevilspiritintorment;withfearfulstrength,itshookthewholehouseonitsstonefoundation."Itstrikesmethewindisstirredup,acoswe'reenjoyingofourselves,"saidthepilotcousin."No,it'stheseathat'swrathy,"correctedYann,smilingatGaud,"becauseI'dpromisedI'dbeweddedto/her/."Astrangelanguorseemedtoenvelopthemboth;theyspoketooneanotherinalowvoice,apart,inthemidstofthegeneralgaiety.Yann,knowingthoroughlytheeffectofwine,didnotdrinkatall.Nowandthenheturneddulltoo,thinkingofSylvestre.Itwasanunderstoodthingthattherewastobenodancing,onaccountofhimandofGaud'sdeadfather.Itwasthedessertnow;thesingingwouldsoonbegin.Butfirstthereweretheprayerstosay,forthedeadofthefamily;thisformisneveromitted,atallwedding-feasts,andisasolemnduty.SowhenoldGaosroseanduncoveredhiswhitehead,therewasadeadsilencearound."This,"saidhe,"isforGuillaumeGaos,myfather."Makingthesignofthecross,hebegantheLord'sprayerinLatin:"/Paternoster,quiesincoelis,sanctificeturnomentumm/----"Thesilenceincludedall,eventothejoyfullittleonesdownstairs,andeveryvoicewasrepeatinginanundertonethesameeternalwords."ThisisforYvesandJeanGaos,mytwobrothers,whowerelostintheSeaofIceland.ThisisforPierreGaos,myson,shipwreckedaboardthe/Zelie/."WhenallthedeadGaoseshadhadtheirprayers,heturnedtowardsgrandmotherMoan,saying,"ThisoneisforSylvestreMoan."Yannweptasherecitedanotherprayer."/Sedliberanosamalo.Amen/!"Thenthesongsbegan;sea-songslearnedinthenavy,ontheforecastle,128 ANICELANDFISHERMANwhereweallknowthereareraregoodvocalists."/Unnoblecorps,pasmoinsqueceluidesZouaves/,"etc.AnobleandagallantladTheZouaveis,weknow,But,cappinghimforbravery,Thesailorstands,Itrow.Hurrah,hurrah!longlifetohim,Whoseglorynevercangrowdim!Thiswassungbyoneofthebride'ssupporters,inafeelingtonethatwenttothesoul;andthechoruswastakenupbyotherfine,manlyvoices.Butthenewlyweddedpairseemedtolistenasfromadistance.Whentheylookedatoneanother,theireyesshonewithdulledbrilliance,likethatoftransparentlyshadedlamps.Theyspokeinevenalowervoice,andstillheldeachother'shands.Gaudbentherhead,too,graduallyovercomebyavast,delightfulterror,beforehermaster.Thepilotcousinwentaroundthetable,servingoutawineofhisown;hehadbroughtitwithmuchcare,huggingandpattingthebottle,whichoughtnottobeshaken,hesaid.Hetoldthestoryofit.Onedayoutfishingtheysawacaska-floating;itwastoobigtohaulonboard,sotheyhadstoveintheheadandfilledallthepotsandpanstheyhad,withmostofitscontents.Itwasimpossibletotakeall,sotheyhadsignalledtootherpilotsandfishers,andallthesailsinsighthadflockedroundtheflotsam."AndIknowmorethanoneoldsobersideswhowasgloriouslytopheavywhenwegotbacktoPors-Evenatnight!"hechuckledliquorishly.Thewindstillwentonwithitsfearfuldin.Downstairsthechildrenweredancinginrings;exceptsomeoftheyoungest,senttobed;buttheothers,whowererompingabout,ledbylittleFantec(Francis)andLaumec(Guillaume),wantedtogoandplayoutside.Everyminutetheywereopeningthedoorandlettinginfuriousgusts,whichblewoutthecandles.Thepilotcousinwentonwithhisstory.Fortybottleshadfallentohislot,hesaid.Hebeggedthemalltosaynothingaboutit,becauseof"/MonsieurleCommissairedel'InscriptionMaritime/,"whowouldsurelymakeafussovertheundeclaredfind."But,d'yesee,"hewenton,"itsarvedthelubbersrighttoheaveoversuchavallyblecaskorletit'scapethelashings,forit'ssuperiorquality,129 ANICELANDFISHERMANwithsartinlymorejinywinegrape-juiceinitthaninallthewine-merchants'cellarsofPaimpol.Goodnessknowswhenceitcame--thisherecastawayliquor."Itwasverystrongandrichincolour,dashedwithsea-water,andhadtheflavourofcod-pickle,butinspiteofthat,relishable;andseveralbottleswereemptied.Someheadsbegantospin;theBabelofvoicesbecamemoreconfused,andtheladskissedthelasseslesssurreptitiously.Thesongsjoyouslycontinued;butthewindswouldnotmoderate,andtheseamenexchangedtokensofapprehensionaboutthebadweatherincreasing.Thesinisterclamourwithoutwasindeedworsethanever.Ithadbecomeonecontinuoushowl,deepandthreatening,asifathousandmadcreatureswereyellingwithfullthroatsandout-stretchednecks.Onemightimagineheavysea-gunsshootingouttheirdeafeningboominthedistance,butthatwasonlytheseahammeringthecoastofPloubazlaneconallpoints;undoubtedlyitdidnotappearcontented,andGaudfeltherheartshrinkatthisdismalmusic,whichnoonehadorderedfortheirwedding-feast.Towardsmidnight,duringacalm,Yann,whohadrisensoftly,beckonedhiswifetocometospeakwithhim.Itwastogohome.Sheblushed,filledwithshame,andconfusedathavingleftherseatsopromptly.Shesaiditwouldbeimpolitetogoawaydirectlyandleavetheothers."Notabitonit,"repliedYann,"myfatherallowsit;wemaygo,"andawayhecarriedher.Theyhurriedawaystealthily.Outsidetheyfoundthemselvesinthecold,thebitterwind,andthemiserable,agitatednight.Theybegantorunhand-in-hand.Fromtheheightofthecliff-path,onecouldimagine,withoutseeingit,thefuriousopensea,whencearoseallthishubbub.Theyranalong,thewindcuttingtheirfaces,bothbowedbeforetheangrygusts,andobligedtoputtheirhandsovertheirmouthstocovertheirbreathing,whichthewindhadcompletelytakenawayatfirst.130 ANICELANDFISHERMANHeheldherupbythewaistattheoutset,tokeepherdressfromtrailingontheground,andherfinenewshoesfrombeingspoiledinthewater,whichstreamedabouttheirfeet,andnextheheldherroundtheneck,too,andcontinuedtorunonstillfaster.Hecouldhardlyrealizethathelovedhersomuch!Tothinkthatshewasnowtwenty-threeandhenearlytwenty-eight;thattheymighthavebeenmarriedtwoyearsago,andashappythenasto-night!Atlasttheyarrivedathome,thatpoorlodging,withitsdampflooringandmoss-grownroof.Theylitthecandle,whichthewindblewouttwice.OldgrandamMoan,whohadbeentakenhomebeforethesingingbegan,wasthere.Shehadbeensleepingforthelasttwohoursinherbunk,theflapsofwhichwereshut.Theydrewnearwithrespectandpeepedthroughthefretworkofherpress,tobidhergood-night,ifbychanceshewerenotasleep.Buttheyonlyperceivedherstillvenerablefaceandclosedeyes;sheslept,orshefeignedtodoso,nottodisturbthem.Theyfelttheywerealonethen.Bothtrembledastheyclaspedhands.Hebentforwardtokissherlips;butGaudturnedthemaside,throughignoranceofthatkindofkiss;andaschastelyasontheeveningoftheirbetrothal,shepressedherstoYann'scheek,whichwaschilled,almostfrozen,bythewind.Itwasbitterlycoldintheirpoor,low-roofedcottage.IfGaudhadonlyremainedrich,whathappinessshewouldhavefeltinarrangingaprettyroom,notlikethisoneonthebareground!Shewasscarcelyyetusedtotheseruggedgranitewalls,andtheroughlookofallthingsaround;butherYannwastherenow,andbyhispresenceeverythingwaschangedandtransfigured.Shesawonlyherhusband.Theirlipsmetnow;noturningaside.Stillstandingwiththeirarmsintertwinedtightlytodrawthemselvestogether,theyremaineddumb,intheperfectecstasyofanever-endingkiss.Theirflutteringbreathcommingled,andbothquiveredasifinaburningfever.Theyseemedwithoutpowertotearthemselvesapart,andknewnothinganddesirednothingbeyondthatlongkissofconsecratedlove.Shedrewherselfaway,suddenlyagitated."Nay,Yann!GrannyYvonnemightseeus,"shefaltered.131 ANICELANDFISHERMANButhe,withasmile,soughthiswife'slipsagainandfastenedhisownuponthem,likeathirstymanwhosecupoffreshwaterhadbeentakenfromhim.Themovementtheyhadmadebrokethecharmofdelightfulhesitation.Yann,who,atthefirst,wasgoingtokneeltoherasbeforeasaint,felthimselffiredagain.Heglancedstealthilytowardstheoldoakenbunk,irritatedatbeingsoclosetotheoldwoman,andseekingsomewaynottobespiedupon,buteverwithoutbreakingawayfromthoseexquisitelips.Hestretchedforthhisarmbehindhim,andwiththebackofhishanddashedoutthelight,asifthewindhaddoneit.Thenhesnatchedherupinhisarms.Stillholdingherclose,withhismouthcontinuallypressedtohers,heseemedlikeawildlionwithhisteethembeddedinhisprey.Forherpartshegaveherselfupentirely,tothatbodyandsoulseizurethatwasimperiousandwithoutpossibleresistance,eventhoughitremainedsoftasagreatall-comprisingembrace.Aroundthem,fortheirweddinghymn,thesameinvisibleorchestra,playedon----"Hoo-ooh-hoo!"Attimesthewindbellowedoutinitsdeepnoise,witha/tremolo/ofrage;andagainrepeateditsthreats,asifwithrefinedcruelty,inlowsustainedtones,flute-likeasthehootofanowl.Thebroad,fathomlessgraveofallsailorslaynightothem,restlessandravenous,drummingagainstthecliffswithitsmuffledboom.OnenightoranotherYannwouldhavetobecaughtinthatmaw,andbattlewithitinthemidstoftheterroroficeaswell.Bothknewthisplainly.Butwhatmatteredthatnowtothemonland,shelteredfromthesea'sfutilefury.Intheirpoorgloomycottage,overwhichtempestrushed,theyscornedallthatwashostile,intoxicatedanddelightfullyfortifiedagainstthewholebytheeternalmagicoflove.CHAPTERVIIITHEBLISSFULWEEKForsixdaystheywerehusbandandwife.Inthistimeofleave-takingthepreparationsfortheIcelandseasonoccupiedeverybody.Thewomen132 ANICELANDFISHERMANheapedupthesaltforthepickleintheholdsofthevessels;themensawtothemastsandrigging.Yann'smotherandsistersworkedfrommorningtillnightatthemakingofthesou'westersandoilskinwaterproofs.Theweatherwasdull,andthesea,forefeelingtheapproachoftheequinoctialgales,wasrestlessandheaving.Gaudwentthroughtheseinexorablepreparationswithagony;countingthefleetinghoursoftheday,andlookingforwardtothenight,whentheworkwasover,andshewouldhaveherYanntoherself.Wouldheleavehereveryyearinthisway?Shehopedtobeabletokeephimback,butshedidnotdaretospeaktohimaboutthiswishasyet.Helovedherpassionately,too;heneverhadknownanythinglikethisaffectionbefore;itwassuchafresh,trustingtendernessthatthesamecaressesandfondlingsalwaysseemedasifnovelandunknownheretofore;andtheirintoxicationoflovecontinuedtoincrease,andneverseemed--neverwassatiated.Whatcharmedandsurprisedherinhermatewashistendernessandboyishness.ThistheYanninlove,whomshehadsometimesseenatPaimpolmostcontemptuoustowardsthegirls.Onthecontrary,toherhealwaysmaintainedthatkindlycourtesythatseemednaturaltohim,andsheadoredthatbeautifulsmilethatcametohimwhenevertheireyesmet.Amongthesesimplefolkthereexiststhefeelingofabsoluterespectforthedignityofthewife;thereisanoceanbetweenherandthesweetheart.Gaudwasessentiallythewife.Shewassorelytroubledinherhappiness,however,foritseemedsomethingtoounhopedfor,asunstableasajoyfuldream.Besides,wouldthislovebelastinginYann?Sherememberedsometimeshisformerflames,hisfanciesanddifferentloveadventures,andthenshegrewfearful.Wouldhealwayscherishthatinfinitetendernessandsweetrespectforher?Sixdaysofaweddedlife,forsuchaloveastheirs,wasnothing;onlyafeveredinstalmenttakenfromthemarriedlifeterm,whichmightbesolongbeforethemyet!Theyhadscarcelyhadleisuretobetogetheratallandunderstandthattheyreallybelongedtooneanother.Alltheirplansoflifetogether,ofpeacefuljoy,andsettlingdown,wasforcedlyputofftillthefisherman'sreturn.133 ANICELANDFISHERMANNo!atanypriceshewouldstophimfromgoingtothisdreadfulIcelandanotheryear!Buthowshouldshemanage?Andwhatcouldtheydoforalivelihood,beingbothsopoor?Thenagainhesodearlylovedthesea.Butinspiteofall,shewouldtryandkeephimhomeanotherseason;shewoulduseallherpower,intelligence,andhearttodoso.WasshetobethewifeofanIcelander,towatcheachspring-tideapproachwithsadness,andpassthewholesummerinpainfulanxiety?no,nowthatshelovedhim,aboveeverythingthatshecouldimagine,shefeltseizedwithanimmenseterroratthethoughtofyearstocomethusrobbedofthebetterpart.Theyhadonespringdaytogether--onlyone.Itwasthedaybeforethesailing;allthestoreshadbeenshipped,andYannremainedthewholedaywithher.Theystrolledalong,arm-in-arm,throughthelanes,likesweetheartsagain,veryclosetooneanother,murmuringathousandtenderthings.Thegoodfolksmiled,astheysawthempass,saying:"It'sGaud,withlongYannfromPors-Even.Theyweremarriedonlyt'otherday!"Thislastdaywasreallyspring.Itwasstrangeandwonderfultobeholdthisuniversalserenity.Notasinglecloudmarredthelatelyfleckedsky.Thewinddidnotblowanywhere.Theseahadbecomequitetranquil,andwasofapale,evenbluetint.Thesunshonewithglaringwhitebrilliancy,andtheroughBretonlandseemedbathedinitslight,asinarare,delicateether;itseemedtobrightenandreviveevenintheutmostdistance.Theairhadadelicious,balmyscent,asofsummeritself,andseemedasifitwerealwaysgoingtoremainso,andneverknowanymoregloomy,thunderousdays.Thecapesandbaysoverwhichthechangefulshadowsofthecloudsnolongerpassed,wereoutlinedinstrongsteadylinesinthesunlight,andappearedtorestalsointhelong-duringcalm.Allthismadetheirlovingfestivalsweeterandlongerdrawnout.Theearlyflowersalreadyappeared:primroses,andfrail,scentlessvioletsgrewalongthehedgerows.WhenGaudasked:"Howlongthenareyougoingtoloveme,Yann?"Heanswered,surprisedly,lookingatherfullinthefacewithhisfrankeyes:"Why,forever,Gaud."Thatword,spokensosimplybyhisfiercelips,seemedtohaveitstruesenseofeternity.134 ANICELANDFISHERMANSheleanedonhisarm.Intheenchantmentofherrealizeddream,shepressedclosetohim,alwaysanxious,feelingthathewasasflightyasawildsea-bird.To-morrowhewouldtakehissoaringontheopensea.Anditwastoolatenow,shecoulddonothingtostophim.Fromthecliff-pathswheretheywandered,theycouldseethewholeofthissea-boundcountry;whichseemsalmosttreeless,strewnwithlow,stuntedbushandboulders.Hereandtherefishers'hutswerescatteredovertherocks,theirhighbatteredthatchesmadegreenbythecroppingupofnewmosses;andintheextremedistance,thesea,likeaboundlesstransparency,stretchedoutinanever-endinghorizon,whichseemedtoencircleeverything.SheenjoyedtellinghimaboutallthewonderfulthingsshehadseeninParis,buthewasverycontemptuous,andwasnotinterested."It'ssofarfromthecoast,"saidhe,"andthereissomuchlandbetween,thatitmustbeunhealthy.Somanyhousesandsomanypeople,too,about!Theremustbelotsofillsandailsinthosebigtowns;no,Ishouldn'tliketolivethere,certainsure!"Shesmiled,surprisedtoseethisgiantsosimpleafellow.Sometimestheycameacrosshollowswheretreesgrewandseemedtodefythewinds.Therewasnoviewhere,onlydeadleavesscatteredbeneaththeirfeetandchillydampness;thenarrowway,borderedonbothsidesbygreenreeds,seemedverydismalundertheshadowofthebranches;hemmedinbythewallsofsomedark,lonelyhamlet,rottingwitholdage,andslumberinginthishollow.Acrucifixaroseinevitablybeforethem,amongthedeadbranches,withitscolossalimageofOurSaviourinweather-wornwood,itsfeatureswrungwithHisendlessagony.Thenthepathwayroseagain,andtheyfoundthemselvescommandingtheviewofimmensehorizons--andbreathedthebracingairofsea-heightsoncemore.He,tomatchher,spokeofIceland,itspale,nightlesssummersandsunthatneverset.Gauddidnotunderstandandaskedhimtoexplain."Thesungoesallround,"saidhe,wavinghisarminthedirectionofthedistantcircleofthebluewaters."Italwaysremainsverylow,because135 ANICELANDFISHERMANithasnostrengthtorise;atmidnight,itdragsabitthroughthewater,butsoongetsupandbeginsitsjourneyroundagain.Sometimesthemoonappearstoo,attheothersideofthesky;thentheymovetogether,andyoucan'tverywelltellonefromt'other,fortheyaremuchalikeinthatqueercountry."Toseethesunatmidnight!HowveryfaroffIcelandmustbeforsuchmarvelstohappen!Andthefjords?Gaudhadreadthatwordseveraltimeswrittenamongthenamesofthedeadinthechapeloftheshipwrecked,anditseemedtoportendsomegrislything."Thefjords,"saidYann,"theyarenotbroadbays,likePaimpol,forinstance;onlytheyaresurroundedbyhighmountains--sohighthattheyseemendless,becauseofthecloudsupontheirtops.It'sasorrycountry,Icantellyou,darling.Nothingbutstones.ThepeopleofIcelandknowofnosuchthingsastrees.InthemiddleofAugust,whenourfisheryisover,it'squitetimetoreturn,forthenightsbeginagainthen,andtheylengthenoutveryquickly;thesunfallsbelowtheearthwithoutbeingabletogetup,andthatnightlastsallthewinterthrough.Talkingofnight,"hecontinued,"there'salittleburying-groundonthecoastinoneofthefjords,forPaimpolmenwhohavediedduringtheseasonorwentdownatsea;it'sconsecratedearth,justlikeatPors-Even,andthedeadhavewoodencrossesjustlikeourshere,withtheirnamespaintedonthem.ThetwoGoazdiousfromPloubazlanecliethere,andGuillaumeMoan,Sylvestre'sgrandfather."Shecouldalmostseethelittlechurchyardatthefootofthesolitarycapes,underthepalerose-colouredlightofthosenever-endingdays,andshethoughtofthosedistantdead,undertheiceanddarkwindingsheetsofthelongnight-likewinters."Doyoufishthewholetime?"sheasked,"withouteverstopping?""Thewholetime,thoughwesomehowgetonwithworkondeck,fortheseaisn'talwaysfineoutthere.Well!ofcoursewe'redeadbeatwhenthenightcomes,butitgivesamananappetite--blessyou,dearest,weregularlygobbledownourmeals.""Doyouneverfeelsickofit?""Never,"returnedhe,withanairofunshakenfaithwhichpainedher;136 ANICELANDFISHERMAN"ondeck,ontheopensea,thetimeneverseemslongtoaman--never!"Shehungherhead,feelingsadderthanever,andmoreandmorevanquishedbyheronlyenemy,thesea.137 ANICELANDFISHERMANPARTVTHESECONDWEDDINGCHAPTERITHESTARTAfterthespringdaytheyhadenjoyed,thefallingnightbroughtbacktheimpressionofwinter,andtheyreturnedtodinebeforetheirfire,whichwasflamingwithnewbranches.Itwastheirlastmealtogether;buttheyhadsomehoursyet,andwerenotsaddened.Afterdinner,theyrecoveredthesweetimpressionofspringagain,outonthePors-Evenroad;fortheairwascalm,almostgenial,andthetwilightstilllingeredovertheland.Theywenttoseethefamily--forYanntobidgood-bye--andreturnedearly,astheywishedtorisewithbreakofday.ThenextmorningthequayofPaimpolwascrowdedwithpeople.ThedeparturesforIcelandhadbegunthedaybefore,andwitheachtidetherewasafreshfleetoff.Onthisparticularmorning,fifteenvesselsweretostartwiththe/Leopoldine/,andthewivesormothersofthesailorswereallpresentatthegettingundersail.Gaud,whowasnowthewifeofanIcelander,wasmuchsurprisedtofindherselfamongthemall,andbroughtthitherforthesamefatefulpurpose.Herpositionseemedtohavebecomesointensifiedwithinthelastfewdays,thatshehadbarelyhadtimetorealizethingsastheywere;glidingirresistiblydownanincline,shehadarrivedatthisinexorableconclusionthatshemustbearupforthepresent,anddoastheothersdid,whowereaccustomedtoit.Sheneverbeforehadbeenpresentatthesefarewells;henceallwasnewtoher.Amongthesewomenwasnonelikeher,andshefeltherdifferenceandisolation.Herpastlife,asalady,wasstillremembered,andcausedhertobesetasideasoneapart.Theweatherhadremainedfineonthisparting-day;butoutatseaa138 ANICELANDFISHERMANheavyswellcamefromthewest,foretellingwind,andthesea,lyinginwaitforthesenewadventurers,burstitscrestsafar.AroundGaudstoodmanygood-lookingwiveslikeher,andtouching,withtheireyesbigwithtears;otherswerethoughtlessandlively;thesehadnoheartorwerenotinlove.Oldwomen,threatenednearlybydeath,weptastheyclungtotheirsons;sweetheartskissedeachother;half-maudlinsailorssangtocheerthemselvesup,whileotherswentonboardwithgloomylooksastotheirexecution.Manysadincidentscouldbemarked;therewerepoorlucklessfellowswhohadsignedtheircontractsunconsciously,wheninliquorinthegrog-shop,andtheyhadtobedraggedonboardbyforce;theirownwiveshelpingthegendarmes.Others,notedfortheirgreatstrength,hadbeendruggedindrinkbeforehand,andwerecarriedlikecorpsesonstretchers,andflungdownintheforecastles.Gaudwasfrightenedbyallthis;whatcompanionsweretheseforherYann?andwhatafearfulthingwasthisIceland,toinspiremenwithsuchterrorofit?Yetthereweresailorswhosmiled,andwerehappy;who,doubtless,likeYann,lovedtheuntrammelledlifeandhardfishingwork;thosewerethesound,ableseamen,whohadfinenoblecountenances;iftheywereunmarriedtheywentoffrecklessly,merelycastingalastlookonthelasses;andiftheyweremarried,theykissedtheirwivesandlittleones,withferventsadnessanddeephopefulnessastoreturninghomeallthericher.Gaudwasalittlecomfortedwhenshesawthatallthe/Leopoldines/wereofthelatterclass,formingreallyapickedcrew.Thevesselssetofftwobytwo,orfourbyfour,drawnoutbythetugs.Assoonastheymovedthesailorsraisedtheircapsand,full-voiced,struckupthehymntotheVirgin:"/Salut,Etoile-de-la-Mer/!"(AllHail!StaroftheSea!),whileonthequay,thewomenwavedtheirhandsforalastfarewell,andtearsfelluponthelacestringsofthecaps.Assoonasthe/Leopoldine/started,GaudquicklysetofftowardsthehouseoftheGaoses.Afteranhourandahalf'swalkalongthecoast,throughthefamiliarpathsofPloubazlanec,shearrivedthere,attheveryland'send,withinthehomeofhernewfamily.139 ANICELANDFISHERMANThe/Leopoldine/wastocastanchoroffPors-Evenbeforestartingdefinitelyintheevening,sothemarriedpairhadmadealastappointmenthere.Yanncametolandintheyawl,andstayedanotherthreehourswithhertobidhergood-byeonfirmland.Theweatherwasstillbeautifulandspring-like,andtheskyserene.Theywalkedoutonthehighroadarm-in-arm,anditremindedthemoftheirwalkthedaybefore.TheystrolledontowardsPaimpolwithoutanyapparentobjectinview,andsooncametotheirownhouse,asifunconsciouslydrawnthere;theyenteredtogetherforthelasttime.GrandamMoanwasquiteamazedatseeingthemtogetheragain.YannleftmanyinjunctionswithGaudconcerningseveralofhisthingsinhiswardrobe,especiallyabouthisfineweddingclothes;shewastotakethemoutoccasionallyandairtheminthesun,andsoon.Onboardshipthesailorslearnallthesehousehold-likematters;butGaudwasamusedtohearit.Herhusbandmighthavebeensure,though,thatallhisthingswouldbekeptandattendedto,withlovingcare.Butallthesematterswereverysecondaryforthem;theyspokeofthemonlytohavesomethingtotalkabout,andtohidetheirrealfeelings.Theywentonspeakinginlow,softtones,asiffearingtofrightenawaythemomentsthatremained,andsomaketimeflitbymoreswiftlystill.Theirconversationwasasathingthathadinexorablytocometoanend;andthemostinsignificantthingsthattheysaidseemed,onthisday,tobecomewondrous,mysterious,andimportant.AttheverylastmomentYanncaughtuphiswifeinhisarms,andwithoutsayingaword,theywereenfoldedinalongandsilentembrace.Heembarked;thegraysailswereunfurledandspreadouttothelightwindthatrosefromthewest.He,whomshestillcoulddistinguish,wavedhiscapinaparticularwayagreedonbetweenthem.Andwithherfigureoutlinedagainstthesea,shegazedforalong,longtimeuponherdepartinglove.Thattiny,human-shapedspeck,appearingblackagainstthebluishgrayofthewaters,wasstillherhusband,eventhoughalreadyitbecamevagueandindefinable,lostinthedistance,wherepersistentsightbecomesbaffled,andcanseenolonger.140 ANICELANDFISHERMANAsthe/Leopoldine/fadedoutofvision,Gaud,asifdrawnbyamagnet,followedthepathwayallalongthecliffstillshehadtostop,becausethelandcametoanend;shesatdownatthefootofatallcross,whichrisesamidstthegorseandstones.Asitwasratheranelevatedspot,thesea,asseenfromthere,appearedtoberimmed,asinabowl,andthe/Leopoldine/,nowamerepoint,appearedsailinguptheinclineofthatimmensecircle.Thewaterroseingreatslowundulations,liketheupheavalsofasubmarinecombatgoingonsomewherebeyondthehorizon;butoverthegreatspacewhereYannstillwas,alldweltcalm.Gaudstillgazedattheship,tryingtofixitsimagewellinherbrain,sothatshemightrecogniseitagainfromafar,whenshereturnedtothesameplacetowatchforitshome-coming.Greatswellsnowrolledinfromthewest,oneafteranother,withoutcessation,renewingtheiruselessefforts,andeverbreakingoverthesamerocks,foamingoverthesameplaces,towashthesamestones.Thestifledfuryoftheseaappearedstrange,consideringtheabsolutecalmnessoftheairandsky;itwasasifthebedoftheseaweretoofullandwouldoverflowandswallowupthestrand.The/Leopoldine/hadgrownsmallerandsmaller,andwaslostinthedistance.Doubtlesstheunder-towcarriedheralong,forshemovedswiftlyandyettheeveningbreezeswereveryfaint.Nowshewasonlyatiny,graytouch,andwouldsoonreachtheextremehorizonofallvisiblethings,andenterthoseinfiniteregions,whencedarknesswasbeginningtocome.Goingonseveno'clock,nightclosed,andtheboathaddisappeared.Gaudreturnedhome,feelingwithalratherbrave,notwithstandingthetearsthatuncontainablyfell.Whatadifferenceitwouldhavebeen,andwhatstillgreaterpain,ifhehadgoneaway,asinthetwoprecedingyears,withoutevenagood-bye!Whilenoweverythingwassoftenedandbetteredbetweenthem.HewasreallyherownYann,andsheknewherselftobesotrulyloved,notwithstandingthisseparation,that,asshereturnedhomealone,shefeltatleastconsoledbythethoughtofthedelightfulwaitingforthat"soonagain!"toberealizedtowhichtheyhadpledgedthemselvesfortheautumn.141 ANICELANDFISHERMANCHAPTERIITHEFIRSTOFTHEFLEETThesummerpassedsadly,beinghotanduneventful.Shewatchedanxiouslyforthefirstyellowedleaves,andthefirstgatheringoftheswallows,andbloomingofthechrysanthemums.ShewrotetoYannseveraltimesbytheboatsboundforRykawyk,andbythegovernmentcruisers,butonenevercanbesureofsuchlettersreachingtheirdestination.TowardstheendofJuly,shereceivedaletterfromhim,however.Hetoldherthathishealthwasgood,thatthefishingseasonpromisedtobeexcellent,andthathealreadyhad1500fishforhisshare.Frombeginningtoend,itwaswritteninthesimpleconventionalwayofalltheseIcelanders'homeletters.MeneducatedlikeYanncompletelyignorehowtowritethethousandthingstheythink,feel,orfancy.Beingmorecultivatedthanhe,Gaudcouldunderstandthis,andreadbetweenthelinesthatdeepaffectionthatwasunexpressed.Severaltimesinthefour-pagedletter,hecalledherbythetitleof"wife,"asifhappyinrepeatingtheword.Andtheaddressabove:"/AMadameMargueriteGaos,maisonMoan,enPloubazlanec/"--shewas"MadameMargueriteGaos"sincesoshortatime.Sheworkedhardduringthesesummermonths.TheladiesofPaimpolhad,atfirst,hardlybelievedinhertalentasanamateurdressmaker,sayingherhandsweretoofine-ladyish;buttheysoonperceivedthatsheexcelledinmakingdressesthatwereverynice-fitting,soshehadbecomealmostafamousdressmaker.Shespentallherearningsinembellishingtheirhomeagainsthisreturn.Thewardrobeandold-shelvedbedswerealldoneupafresh,waxedover,andbrightnewfasteningsputon;shehadputapaneofglassintotheirlittlewindowtowardsthesea,andhungupapairofcurtains;andshehadboughtanewcounterpaneforthewinter,withnewchairsandtable.ShehadkeptthemoneyuntouchedthatherYannhadlefther,carefullyputbyinasmallChinesebox,toshowhimwhenhereturned.Duringthesummerevenings,bythefadinglight,shesatoutbeforethecottagedoorwithGrannyMoan,whoseheadwasmuchbetterinthewarmweather,and142 ANICELANDFISHERMANknittedafinenewbluewooljerseyforherYann;roundthecollarandcuffswerewonderfulopen-workembroideries.GrannyYvonnehadbeenaverycleverknitterinherday,andnowshetaughtallsheknewtoGaud.Theworktookagreatdealofwool;forithadtobealargejerseytofitYann.Butsoon,especiallyintheevenings,theshorteningofthedayscouldbeperceived.Someplants,whichhadputforthalltheirblossomsinJuly,begantolookyellowanddying,andthevioletscabiousbythewaysidebloomedforthesecondtime,smallernow,andlonger-stalked;thelastdaysofAugustdrewnigh,andthefirstreturn-shipfromIcelandhoveinsightoneeveningatthecapeofPors-Even.Thefeastofthereturnersbegan.Everyonepressedinacrowdontheclifftowelcomeit.Whichonewasit?Itwasthe/Samuel-Azenide/,alwaysthefirsttoreturn."Surely,"saidYann'soldfather,"the/Leopoldine/won'tbelongnow;Iknowhow'tisoutyonder:whenoneof'embeginstostarthomeward,theotherscan'thangbackinanypeace."CHAPTERIIIALLBUTTWOTheIcelanderswereallreturningnow.Twoshipscameinthesecondday,fourthenext,andtwelveduringthefollowingweek.And,allthroughthecountry,joyreturnedwiththem,andtherewashappinessforthewivesandmothers;andjunketsinthetavernswherethebeautifulbarmaidsofPaimpolservedoutdrinktothefishers.The/Leopoldine/wasamongthebelated;therewereyetanothertenexpected.Theywouldnotbelongnow,andallowingaweek'sdelaysoasnottobedisappointed,Gaudwaitedinhappy,passionatejoyforYann,keepingtheirhomebrightandtidyforhisreturn.Wheneverythingwasingoodordertherewasnothingleftforhertodo,andbesidesshecouldthinkofnothingelsebutherhusbandinherimpatience.Threemoreshipsappeared;thenanotherfive.Therewereonlytwo143 ANICELANDFISHERMANlackingnow."Come,come,"theysaidtohercheerily,"thisyearthe/Leopoldine/andthe/Marie-Jeanne/willbethelast,topickupallthebroomsfallenoverboardfromtheothercraft."Gaudlaughedalso.Shewasmoreanimatedandbeautifulthanever,inhergreatjoyofexpectancy.CHAPTERIVSTILLATSEAButthedayssucceededoneanotherwithoutresult.Shestilldressedherselfeveryday,andwithajoyfullook,wentdowntotheharbourtogossipwiththeotherwives.Shesaidthatthisdelaywasbutnatural;wasitnotthesameeventeveryyear?Theseweresuchsafeboats,andhadsuchcapitalsailors.Butwhenathomealone,atnight,anervous,anxiousshiverofanguishwouldrunthroughherwholeframe.Wasitrighttobefrightenedalready?Wasthereevenasinglereasontobeso?Butshebegantotrembleatthemereideaofgroundsforbeingafraid.CHAPTERVSHARINGTHEDREADThetenthofSeptembercame.Howswiftlythedaysflewby!Onemorning,atrueautumnmorning,withcoldmistfallingovertheearth,intherisingsun,shesatundertheporchofthechapeloftheshipwreckedmariners,wherethewidowsgotopray,witheyesfixedandglassy,throbbingtemplestightenedasbyanironhand.Thesesadmorningmistshadbeguntwodaysbefore,andonthisparticulardayGaudhadawakenedwithastillmorebitteruneasiness,causedbytheforecastofadvancingwinter.Whydidthisday,thishour,thisverymoment,seemtohermorepainfulthanthepreceding?Oftenshipsaredelayedafortnight,evenamonth,forthatmatter.144 ANICELANDFISHERMANButsurelytherewassomethingdifferentaboutthisparticularmorning,forshehadcometo-dayforthefirsttimetositintheporchofthischapelandreadthenamesofthedeadsailors,perishedintheirprime."InmemoryofGAOS,YVON,LostatseaNeartheNorden-Fjord."Likeagreatshudder,agustofwindrosefromthesea,andatthesametimesomethingfelllikerainupontheroofabove.Itwasonlythedeadleavesthough;manywereblowninattheporch;theoldwind-tossedtreesofthegraveyardwerelosingtheirfoliageinthisrisinggale,andwinterwasmarchingnearer."Lostatsea,NeartheNorden-Fjord,Inthestormofthe4thand5thofAugust,1880."Shereadmechanicallyunderthearchofthedoorway;hereyessoughttopiercethedistanceoverthesea.Thatmorningitwasuntraceableunderthegraymist,andadraggingdraperyofcloudsoverhungthehorizonlikeamourningveil.Anothergustofwind,andotherleavesdancedininwhirls.Astrongerguststill,asifthewesternstormthathadstrewnthosedeadoverthesea,wishedtodefacetheveryinscriptionsthatrememberedtheirnamestotheliving.Gaudlookedwithinvoluntarypersistencyatanemptyspaceuponthewallthatseemedtoyawnexpectant.Byaterribleimpressionshewaspursued,thethoughtofafreshslabwhichmightsoon,perhaps,beplacedthere,withanothernamewhichshedidnotevendaretothinkofinsuchaspot.Shefeltcold,andremainedseatedonthegranitebench,herheadrecliningagainstthestonewall.***********......."neartheNorden-Fjord,Inthestormofthe4thand5thofAugust,Attheageof23years,/Requiescatinpace/!"ThenIcelandloomedupbeforeher,withitslittlecemeterylightedupfrombelowthesea-linebythemidnightsun.Suddenlyinthesameemptyspaceonthewall,withhorrifyingclearnessshesawthefreshslabshewasthinkingof;aclearwhiteone,withaskullandcross-bones,andinaflash145 ANICELANDFISHERMANofforesight,aname--theworshippednameof"YannGaos!"Thenshesuddenlyandfearfullydrewherselfupstraightandstiff,withahoarse,wildcryinherthroatlikeamadcreature.Outsidethegraymistofthedawnfellovertheland,andthedeadleaveswereagainblowndancinglyintotheporch.Stepsonthefootpath?Somebodywascoming?Sheroseandquicklysmootheddownhercapandcomposedherface.Nearerdrewthesteps.Sheassumedtheairofonewhomightbetherebychance;for,aboveall,shedidnotwishtoappearyet,likethewidowofashipwreckedmariner.IthappenedtobeFanteFloury,thewifeofthesecondmateofthe/Leopoldine/.SheunderstoodimmediatelywhatGaudwasdoingthere;itwasuselesstodissemblewithher.Atfirsteachwomanstoodspeechlessbeforetheother.Theywereangryandalmosthatedeachotherforhavingmetwithalikesentimentofapprehension."AllthemenofTreguierandSaintBrieuchavebeenbackthisweek,"saidFanteatlast,inapitiless,muffled,half-irritatedvoice.Shecarriedablessedtaperinherhand,toofferupaprayer.Gauddidnotwishyettoresorttothatextremeresourceofdespairingwives.YetsilentlysheenteredthechapelbehindFante,andtheykneltdowntogethersidebyside,liketwosisters.Tothe"StaroftheSea"theyofferedardentimploringprayers,withtheirwholesoulinthem.Asoundofsobbingwasaloneheard,astheirrapidtearsswiftlyfelluponthefloor.Theyrosetogether,moreconfidentandsoftened.FanteheldupGaud,whostaggered,andtakingherinherarms,kissedher.Wipingtheireyes,andsmoothingtheirdishevelledhair,theybrushedoffthesaltdustfromtheflagstones,soilingtheirgowns,andtheywentawayinoppositedirections,withoutanotherword.CHAPTERVIALLBUTONEThisendofSeptemberwaslikeanothersummer,onlyalittlelesslively.Theweatherwassobeautiful,thathaditnotbeenforthedead146 ANICELANDFISHERMANleavesthatfellupontheroads,onemighthavethoughtthatJunehadcomebackagain.Husbandsandsweetheartshadallreturned,andeverywherewasthejoyofasecondspring-timeoflove.Atlast,oneday,oneofthemissingshipswassignalled.Whichonewasit?Thegroupsofspeechlessandanxiouswomenhadrapidlyformedonthecliff.Gaud,paleandtrembling,wasthere,bythesideofherYann'sfather."I'malmostsure,"saidtheoldfisher,"I'malmostsureit'sthem!Aredrailandatopsailthatclewsup--it'sverylikethemanyhow.Whatdoyoumakeit,Gaud?"No,itisn't,"hewenton,withsuddendiscouragement;"we'vemadeamistakeagain,theboomisn'tthesame,andourshasajiggersail.Well,well,itisn'tourboatthistime,it'sonlythe/Marie-Jeanne/.Nevermind,mylass,surelythey'llnotbelongnow."Butdayfollowedday,andnightsucceedednight,withuninterruptedserenity.Gaudcontinuedtodresseverydaylikeapoorcrazedwoman,alwaysinfearofbeingtakenforthewidowofashipwreckedsailor,feelingexasperatedwhenotherslookedfurtivelyandcompassionatelyather,andglancingasidesothatshemightnotmeetthoseglancesthatfrozeherveryblood.Shehadfallenintothehabitofgoingintheearlymorningrighttotheendoftheheadland,onthehighcliffsofPors-Even,passingbehindYann'soldhome,soasnottobeseenbyhismotherorlittlesisters.ShewenttotheextremepointofthePloubazlanecland,whichisoutlinedintheshapeofareindeer'shornuponthegraywatersofthechannel,andsattherealldaylongatthefootofthelonelycross,whichriseshighabovetheimmensewasteoftheocean.Therearemanyofthesecrosseshereabout;theyaresetuponthemostadvancedcliffsoftheseaboundland,asiftoimploremercyandtocalmthatrestlessmysteriouspowerthatdrawsmenaway,nevertogivethemback,andinpreferenceretainsthebravestandnoblest.Aroundthiscrossstretchestheever-greenwaste,strewnwithshort147 ANICELANDFISHERMANrushes.Atthisgreatheighttheseaairwasverypure;itscarcelyretainedthebrinyodouroftheweeds,butwasperfumedwithalltheexquisiteripenessofSeptemberflowers.Faraway,allthebaysandinletsofthecoastwerefirmlyoutlined,risingoneaboveanother;thelandofBrittanyterminatedinraggededges,whichspreadoutfarintothetranquilsurface.Nearathandthereefswerenumerous,butoutbeyondnothingbrokeitspolishedmirror,fromwhicharoseasoft,caressingripple,lightandintensifiedfromthedepthsofitsmanybays.Itshorizonseemedsocalm,anditsdepthssosoft!ThegreatbluesepulchreofmanyGaoseshiditsinscrutablemystery,whilethebreezes,faintashumanbreath,waftedtoandfrotheperfumeofthestuntedgorse,whichhadbloomedagaininthelastestautumnsun.Atregularhoursthesearetreated,andgreatspaceswereleftuncoveredeverywhere,asiftheChannelwasslowlydryingup;thenwiththesamelazyslowness,thewatersroseagain,andcontinuedtheireverlastingcomingandgoing,withoutanyheedofthedead.Atthefootofthecross,Gaudremained,surroundedbythesetranquilmysteries,gazingeverbeforeher,untilthenightfellandshecouldseenomore.CHAPTERVIITHEMOURNER'SVISIONSeptemberhadpassed.Thesorrowingwifetookscarcelyanynourishment,andcouldnolongersleep.Sheremainedathomenow,crouchinglowwithherhandsbetweenherknees,herheadthrownbackandrestingagainstthewallbehind.Whatwasthegoodofgettinguporgoingtobednow?Whenshewasthoroughlyexhaustedshethrewherself,dressed,uponherbed.Otherwisesheremainedinthesameposition,chilledandbenumbed;inherquiescentstate,onlyherteethchatteredwiththecold;shehadthatcontinualimpressionofabandofironroundherbrows;hercheekslookedwasted;hermouthwasdry,withafeverishtaste,andattimesapainfulhoarsecryrosefromherthroat,andwasrepeatedin148 ANICELANDFISHERMANspasms,whileherheadbeatbackwardagainstthegranitewall.OrelseshecalledYannbyhisnameinalow,tendervoice,asifhewerequietclosetoher,whisperingwordsoflovetoher.Sometimessheoccupiedherbrainwiththoughtsofquiteinsignificantthings;forinstance,sheamusedherselfbywatchingtheshadowofthechinaVirginlengthenslowlyoverthehighwoodworkofthebed,asthesunwentdown.Andthentheagonizedthoughtsreturnedmorehorrible,andherwailingcrybrokeoutagainasshebeatherheadagainstthewall.Allthehoursofthedaypassed,andallthehoursofevening,andofnight,andthenthehoursofthemorning.Whenshereckonedthetimeheoughttohavebeenback,shewasseizedwithastillgreaterterror;shewishedtoforgetalldatesandtheverynamesofthedays.UsuallythereissomeinformationconcerningthewrecksoffIceland;thosewhoreturnhaveseenthetragedyfromafar,orelsehavefoundsomewreckageorbodies,orhaveanindicationtoguesstherest.Butofthe/Leopoldine/nothinghadbeenseen,andnothingwasknown.The/Marie-Jeanne/men,thelasttohaveseenher,onthe2dofAugust,saidthatshewastohavegoneonfishingfarthertowardsthenorth,and,beyondthat,thesecretwasunfathomable.Waiting,alwayswaiting,andknowingnothing!Whenwouldthetimecomewhensheneedwaitnolonger?Shedidnotevenknowthat;and,now,shealmostwishedthatitmightbesoon.Oh!ifheweredead;letthematleasthavepityenoughtotellherso!Oh!toseeherdarling,ashewasatthisverymoment,thatis,whatwaslefthim!Ifonlythemuch-imploredVirgin,orsomeotherpower,woulddohertheblessingtoshowher,bysecond-sight,herbeloved!eitherlivingandworkinghardtoreturnarichman,orelseasacorpse,surrenderedbythesea,sothatshemightatleastknowacertainty.Sometimesshewasseizedwiththethoughtofashipappearingsuddenlyuponthehorizon;the/Leopoldine/hasteninghome.Thenshewouldsuddenlymakeanirreflectedmovementtorise,andrushtolookoutattheocean,toseewhetheritweretrue.Butshewouldfallback.Alas!wherewasthis/Leopoldinenow?Wherecouldshebe?Outafar,atthatawfuldistanceofIceland,forsaken,149 ANICELANDFISHERMANcrushed,andlost.Allendedbyanever-fadingvisionappearingtoher--anempty,sea-tossedwreck,slowlyandgentlyrockedbythesilentgrayandrose-streakedsea;almostwithsoftmockery,inthemidstofthevastcalmofdeadenedwaters.CHAPTERVIIITHEFALSEALARMTwoo'clockinthemorning.Itwasatnight,especially,thatshekeptattentivetoapproachingfootsteps;attheslightestrumourorunaccustomednoisehertemplesvibrated;bydintofbeingstrainedtooutwardthings,theyhadbecomefearfullysensitive.Twoo'clockinthemorning.Onthisnightasonothers,withherhandsclaspedandhereyeswideopeninthedark,shelistenedtothewind,sweepinginnever-endingtumultovertheheath.Suddenlyaman'sfootstepshurriedalongthepath!Atthishourwhowouldpassnow?Shedrewherselfup,stirredtotheverysoul,herheartceasingtobeat.Someonestoppedbeforethedoor,andcameupthesmallstonesteps.He!--OGod!--he!Someonehadknocked--itcouldbenootherthanhe!Shewasupnow,barefooted;she,sofeebleforthelastfewdays,hadsprungupasnimblyasakitten,withherarmsoutstretchedtowindroundherdarling.Ofcoursethe/Leopoldine/hadarrivedatnight,andanchoredinPors-EvenBay,andhehadrushedhome;shearrangedallthisinhermindwiththeswiftnessoflightning.Shetorethefleshoffherfingersinherexcitementtodrawthebolt,whichhadstuck."Eh?"Sheslowlymovedbackward,asifcrushed,herheadfallingonherbosom.Herbeautifulinsanedreamwasover.Shejustcouldgraspthatitwasnotherhusband,herYann,andthatnothingofhim,substantialorspiritual,hadpassedthroughtheair;shefeltplungedagainintoherdeepabyss,tothelowestdepthsofherterribledespair.150 ANICELANDFISHERMANPoorFantec,foritwashe,stammeredmanyexcuses,hiswifewasveryill,andtheirchildwasstiflinginitscot,suddenlyattackedwithamalignantsorethroat;sohehadrunovertobegforassistanceontheroadtofetchthedoctorfromPaimpol.Whatdidallthismattertoher?Shehadgonemadinherowndistress,andcouldgivenothoughtstothetroublesofothers.Huddledonabench,sheremainedbeforehimwithfixed,glazedeyes,likeadeadwoman's;withoutlisteningtohimorevenansweringatrandomorlookingathim.Whattoherwasthespeechthemanwasmaking?Heunderstooditall;andguessedwhythedoorhadbeenopenedsoquicklytohim,andfeelingpityforthepainhehadunwittinglycaused,hestammeredoutanexcuse."Justso;heneverhadoughttohavedisturbedher--herinparticular.""I!"ejaculatedGaud,quickly,"whyshouldInotbedisturbedparticularly,Fantec?"Lifehadsuddenlycomebacktoher;forshedidnotwishtoappearindespairbeforeothers.Besides,shepitiedhimnow;shedressedtoaccompanyhim,andfoundthestrengthtogoandseetohislittlechild.Atfouro'clockinthemorning,whenshereturnedtothrowherselfonthebed,sleepsubduedher,forshewastiredout.Butthatmomentofexcessivejoyhadleftanimpressiononhermind,which,inspiteofall,waspermanent;sheawokesoonwithashudder,risingalittleandpartiallyrecollecting--sheknewnotwhat.NewshadcometoherconcerningherYann.Inthemidstofherconfusionofideas,shesoughtrapidlyinhermindwhatitcouldbe,buttherewasnothingsaveFantec'sinterruption.Forthesecondtimeshefellbackintoherterribleabyss,nothingchangedinhermorbid,hopelesswaiting.Yetinthatshort,hopefulmomentshehadfelthimsoneartoher,thatitwasasifhisspirithadfloatedovertheseauntoher,whatiscalledaforetoken(/pressigne/)inBretonland;andshelistenedstillmoreattentivelytothestepsoutside,trustingthatsomeonemightcometohertospeakofhim.JustasthedaybrokeYann'sfatherentered.Hetookoffhiscap,andpushedbackhissplendidwhitelocks,whichwereincurlslikeYann's,and151 ANICELANDFISHERMANsatdownbyGaud'sbedside.Hisheartachedfully,too,forYann,histall,handsomeYann,washisfirst-born,hisfavouriteandhispride;buthedidnotdespairyet.HecomfortedGaudinhisownblunt,affectionateway;tobeginwith,thosewhohadlastreturnedfromIcelandspokeoftheincreasingdensefogsthatmightwellhavedelayedthevessel;andthen,too,anideastruckhim;theymightpossiblyhavestoppedatthedistantFaroeIslandsontheirhomewardcourse,whencelettersweresolongintravelling.Thishadhappenedtohimoncefortyyearsago,andhisownpoordeadandgonemotherhadhadamasssaidforhissoul.The/Leopoldine/wassuchagoodboat,nexttonew,andhercrewweresuchable-bodiedseamen.GrannyMoanstoodbythemshakingherhead;thedistressofhergranddaughterhadalmostgivenherbackherownstrengthandreason;shetidieduptheplace,glancingfromtimetotimeatthefadedportraitofSylvestre,whichhunguponthegranitewallwithitsanchoremblemsandmourning-wreathofblackbead-work.Eversincetheseahadrobbedherofherownlastoffspringshebelievednolongerinsafereturns;sheonlyprayedthroughfear,bearingHeavenagrudgeinthebottomofherheart.ButGaudlistenedeagerlytotheseconsolingreasonings;herlargesunkeneyeslookedwithdeeptendernessoutuponthisoldsire,whosomuchresembledherbelovedone;merelytohavehimnearherwaslikeahostageagainstdeathhavingtakentheyoungerGaos;andshefeltreassured,nearertoherYann.Hertearsfellsoftlyandsilently,andsherepeatedagainherpassionateprayerstothe"StaroftheSea."Adelayoutatthoseislandstorepairdamageswasaverylikelyevent.Sheroseandbrushedherhair,andthendressedasifshemightfairlyexpecthim.Allthenwasnotlost,ifaseaman,hisownfather,didnotyetdespair.Andforafewdays,sheresumedlookingoutforhimagain.Autumnatlastarrived,alateautumntoo,itsgloomyeveningsmakingallthingsappeardarkintheoldcottage,andallthelandlookedsombre,too.Theverydaylightseemedcrepuscular;immeasurableclouds,passingslowlyoverhead,darkenedthewholecountryatbroadnoon.Thewindblewconstantlywiththesoundofagreatcathedralorganatadistance,but152 ANICELANDFISHERMANplayingprofane,despairingdirges;atothertimesthenoisecameclosetothedoor,likethehowlingofwildbeasts.Shehadgrownpale,aye,blanched,andbentmorethanever,asifoldagehadalreadytouchedherwithitsfeatherlesswing.OftendidshefingertheweddingclothesofherYann,foldingandunfoldingthemagainandagainlikesomemaniac,especiallyoneofhisbluewoolenjerseys,whichstillhadpreservedhisshape;whenshethrewitgentlyonthetable,itfellwiththeshouldersandchestwelldefined;sosheplaceditbyitselfonashelfoftheirwardrobe,andleftitthere,sothatitmightforeverrestunaltered.Everynightthecoldmistssankupontheland,asshegazedoverthedepressingheaththroughherlittlewindow,andwatchedthepaltrypuffsofwhitesmokearisefromthechimneysofothercottagesscatteredhereandthereonallsides.Therethehusbandshadreturned,likewanderingbirdsdrivenhomebythefrost.Beforetheirblazinghearthstheeveningspassed,cosyandwarm;forthespring-timeoflovehadbegunagaininthislandofNorthSeafishermen.Stillclingingtothethoughtofthoseislandswherehemightperhapshavelingered,shewasbuoyedupbyakindhopeandexpectedhimhomeanyday.CHAPTERIXWEDDEDTOTHESEAButheneverreturned.OneAugustnight,outoffgloomyIceland,mingledwiththefuriousclamourofthesea,hisweddingwiththeseawasperformed.Ithadbeenhisnurse;ithadrockedhiminhisbabyhood,andhadafterwardmadehimbigandstrong;then,inhissuperbmanhood,ithadtakenhimbackagainforitselfalone.Profoundestmysteryhadsurroundedthisunhallowedunion.Whileitwenton,darkcurtainshungpall-likeoveritasiftoconcealtheceremony,andtheghoulhowledinanawfuldeafeningvoicetostiflehiscries.He,thinkingofGaud,hissole,darlingwife,hadbattledwithgiantstrengthagainstthisdeathlyrival,untilheatlastsurrendered,withadeepdeath-cryliketheroarofadyingbull,153 ANICELANDFISHERMANthroughamouthalreadyfilledwithwater;andhisarmswerestretchedapartandstiffenedforever.Allthosehehadinvitedindaysofoldwerepresentathiswedding.AllexceptSylvestre,whohadgonetosleepintheenchantedgardensfar,faraway,attheothersideoftheearth.154
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