In The Yule-Log Glow Volume Ii Part 8

IV.

Josserande had no difficulty in making Sylvestre Ker promise to go to the midnight Ma.s.s, for he was a good Christian; and she bought for him an iron armor to put on when he worked around his crucibles, so as to preserve him from Satan's breath.

And it happened that, late and early, Pol Bihan now came to the tower, bringing with him the laughing Matheline; for it was rumored that at last Sylvestre Ker would soon find the fairy-stone and become a wealthy man.

It was not only two new pearls that Matheline showed at the corners of her rosy mouth, but a brilliant row that shone, and chattered, and laughed, from her lips down to her throat; for Pol Bihan had said to her: "Laugh as much as you can; for smiles attract fools, as the turning mirror catches larks."

We have spoken of Matheline's lips, of her throat, and of her smile, but not of her heart; of that we can only say the place where it should have been was nearly empty; so she replied to Bihan,--

"As much as you will. I can afford to laugh to be rich; and when the fool shall have given me all the gold of the earth, all the pleasures of the world, I will be happy, happy.... I will have them all for myself, for myself alone, and I will enjoy them."

Pol Bihan clasped his hands in admiration, so lovely and wise was she for her age; but he thought: "I am wiser still than you, my beauty; we will share between us what the fool will give--one-half for me, and the other also; the rest for you. Let the water run under the bridge."

The day before Christmas they came together to the tower,--Matheline carrying a basket of chestnuts, Pol a large jug, full of sweet cider,--to make merry with the G.o.dmother.

They roasted the chestnuts in the ashes, heated the cider before the fire, adding to it fermented honey, wine, sprigs of rosemary, and marjoram leaves; and so delicious was the perfume of the beverage that even Dame Josserande longed for a taste.

On the way thither, Pol had advised Matheline adroitly to question Sylvestre Ker, to know when he would at last find the fairy-stone.

Sylvestre Ker neither ate chestnuts nor drank wine, so absorbed was he in the contemplation of Matheline's bewitching smiles; and she said to him,--

"Tell me, my handsome, lame, and one-eyed bridegroom, will I soon be the wife of a wealthy man?"

Sylvestre Ker, whose eye shot forth lurid flame, replied,--

"You would have been as rich as you are beautiful to-morrow, without fail, if I had not promised my dear mother to accompany her to the midnight Ma.s.s to-night. The favorable hour falls just at the first stroke of Matins."

"To-day?"

"Between to-day and to-morrow."

"And can it not be put off?"

"Yes, it can be put off for seven years."

Dame Josserande heard nothing, as Pol was relating an interesting story, so as to distract her attention; but, while talking, he listened with all his ears.

Matheline laughed no longer, and thought,--

"Seven years! Can I wait seven years?" Then she continued:

"Beautiful bridegroom, how do you know that the propitious moment falls precisely at the hour of Matins? Who told you so?"

"The stars," replied Sylvestre Ker. "At midnight Mars and Saturn will arrive in diametrical opposition; Venus will seek Vesta; Mercury will disappear in the sun; and the planet without a name, that the deceased Thael divined by calculation, I saw last night, steering its unknown route through s.p.a.ce to come in conjunction with Jupiter. Ah! if I only dared disobey my dear mother." He was interrupted by a distant vibration of the bells of Plouharnel, which rang out the first signal of the midnight Ma.s.s.

Josserande instantly left her wheel.

"It would be a sin to spin one thread more," said she. "Come, my son Sylvestre, put on your Sunday clothes, and let us be off for the parish church, if you please."

Sylvestre wished to rise, for never yet had he disobeyed his mother; but Matheline, seated at his side, detained him and murmured in silvery tones,--

"My handsome friend, you have plenty of time."

Pol, on his side, said to Dame Josserande,--

"Get your staff, neighbor, and start at once, so as to take your time.

Your G.o.d-daughter Matheline will accompany you; and I will follow with friend Sylvestre, for fear some accident might happen to him with his lame leg and sightless eye." As he proposed, so it was done; for Josserande suspected nothing, knowing that her son had promised, and that he would not break his word.

As they were leaving, Pol whispered to Matheline,--

"Amuse the good woman well, for the fool must remain here."

And the girl replied,--

"Try and see the caldron in which our fortune is cooking. You will tell me how it is done."

Off the two women started; a large, kind mother's heart full of tender love, and a sparrow's little gizzard, narrow and dry, without enough room in it for one pure tear. For a moment Sylvestre Ker stood on the threshold of the open door to watch them depart. On the gleaming white snow their two shadows fell--the one bent and already tottering, the other erect, flexible, and each step seemed a bound. The young lover sighed. Behind him, in a low voice, Pol Bihan said,--

"Ker, my comrade, I know what you are thinking about, and you are right to think so; this must come to an end. She is as impatient as you are, for her love equals yours; for both of you it is too long to wait."

Sylvestre Ker turned pale with joy.

"Do you speak truth?" he stammered. "Am I fortunate enough to be loved by her?"

"Yes, on my faith!" replied Pol Bihan; "she loves you too well for her own peace. When a girl laughs too much, it is to keep from weeping,--that's the real truth."

V.

Well might they call him "the fool," poor Sylvestre Ker! Not that he had less brains than another man,--on the contrary, he was now very learned--but love crazes him who places his affections on an unworthy object.

Sylvestre Ker's little finger was worth two dozen Pol Bihan's and fifty Matheline's; in spite of which Matheline and Pol Bihan were perfectly just in their contempt, for he who ascends the highest falls lowest.

When Sylvestre had re-entered the tower, Pol commenced to sigh heavily, and said,--

"What a pity! What a great, great pity!"

"What is a pity?" asked Sylvestre Ker.

"It is a pity to miss such a rare opportunity."

Sylvestre Ker exclaimed, "What opportunity? So you were listening to my conversation with Matheline?"

"Why, yes," replied Pol. "I always have an ear open to hear what concerns you, my true friend. Seven years! Shall I tell you what I think? You would only have twelve months to wait to go with your mother to another Christmas Ma.s.s."

"I have promised," said Sylvestre.