Where Deep Seas Moan Part 4

Orvilliere Farm was gay, outside and in, with garlands and crowns of flowers; and in the kitchen and in the field beside the house, tables were laid for the customary dinner of roast beef and mutton, plum pudding and _gache a corinthe_. Cider flowed liberally; and, after dinner, the guests were in fitting mood for the games that followed till tea-time. Then all the evening long, dancing waxed fast and furious, with intervals for songs. Dominic delighted the company by giving Ellenor a sounding kiss when she chose him for her partner in--

"Saluez, messieurs et dames, Ah! mon beau laurier!"

and all the company then shouted in chorus--

"Entr'embra.s.sez-vous par le jeu d'amourette, Entr'embra.s.sez-vous par le jeu d'amour."

But it is certain Ellenor would not have dared to choose the bridegroom had he not been half drunk. Perrin Corbet, a sober man himself, looked on in disgust; and glanced at Blaisette to see how she took it. But she was giggling as usual, and drinking mulled wine from one of the new wedding cups.

At five in the morning the wedding party broke up; and all the guests said that Ellenor Cartier was a shameless girl. Perrin heard and clenched his fist.

CHAPTER V.

"Quick! get up, Ellenor, you must have overslept yourself!" cried Jean Cartier one morning in August, as he woke his daughter with a loud knocking on the part.i.tion between the attic bedrooms of the cottage.

"It's all right, father," the girl called in reply, "I've been up there's a long time, but I am putting the roses round my hat. The breakfast will be ready as soon as you're down."

Jean dressed in particularly old clothes, and Mrs. Cartier chose out the shabbiest skirt she possessed, for they were preparing for a day of hard work on the beach. But, to their surprise, when they came down to breakfast, Ellenor wore a pretty gown of dark red stuff. She explained, carelessly, that indeed _she_ would not make herself a fright before all the countryside; and if the gown was spoilt, well, it couldn't be helped. Her parents said nothing, for Ellenor's temper was more uncertain than ever, and they dreaded an outbreak; but Mrs. Cartier had her suspicions.

After breakfast the three started for Rocquaine Bay, where a lively scene was being played, for it was the time of _vraicing_ or sea-weed harvest. Lines of carts were ranged above high-water mark, and the patient horses were decked with flowers. The beach and sands swarmed with people all smiling and gay, and for the most part wearing nosegays. Rich and poor from two parishes chatted, laughed and worked hard with sickles at cutting the _vraic scie_ from the low rocks. Very soon, the beach was dotted with heaps of sea-weed, each marked by a pebble, bearing the owner's name in chalk. The more adventurous waded across the _cols_ or causeways to rocks at some distance from the sh.o.r.e and found rich stores of golden weed.

Amongst these adventurous spirits was Ellenor. She had persuaded one of the farmers to take her on his horse to a high group of rocks, hidden from the beach by Rocquaine Tower, and here she worked undisturbed, and in full possession of a wonderful growth of _vraic_.

She took off her hat, and her hair curled about her forehead in damp little rings, for the sun was scorching. A dusky red glowed in her tan cheeks; her eyes, shining with excitement and the joy of work, followed the skilled movements of the sickle she swung to and fro, and she was entirely absorbed in gathering in the precious _vraic_.

But, all at once, she paused. She heard, distinctly, the splash of horse's feet. Someone was coming to interrupt her and share her harvest. She would not have it! She had first thought of these rocks! She would fight for her rights!

The splashing came nearer. She did not turn round. A scrambling sound followed; then she heard heavy steps mount the rocks.

"Ellenor," said a well-known voice, "what luck to find you quite alone here!"

It was Dominic Le Mierre, and it was the first time the two had met alone since his wedding day. He took her hand and smiled into her eyes, which filled with tears.

"You cheated me," she said, "you told me you were not going to marry her."

He laughed and stooped to kiss her.

"You silly girl! If I had told you I'd never have got so many kisses from you, and you wouldn't have liked that, eh! What difference does this marriage make to you and me, I'd like to know! Besides, don't pretend to be so good all of a sudden. Didn't you choose me at my wedding feast, and didn't I kiss you before everybody? Not that I remember it too well, for I had had a little drop, but I've been told of it since."

"Ah, I was mad that night--mad with jealousy!"

"Go on being mad!" he cried, "how well you look in that red gown, though it's a common rag besides the fine clothes of my milk-and-water wife. Bah, what a fool she is! Don't you know I married her for money and for her good family? But she is like a silly baby. Her pretty face doesn't touch me. She might stare at me for ever with her eyes of blue china, and my blood would lie quiet like a stagnant pond. As for you, witch, your eyes burn into me and set me in a blaze. And I vow you'll have to meet me pretty often.

Where shall we agree to see each other to-morrow night?"

"Nowhere," she replied sulkily.

"I like that! What new trick are you up to now, pretending you don't want to meet me?"

"I _do_ want to meet you!" she cried pa.s.sionately, "but I've got a little bit of pride left, and I'm decided not to meet a married man on the sly!"

He scowled and crushed her hands in his.

"You know your character is gone as it is. You're talked of all over the parishes, people say you're mad after me--so, I'd just like to know what difference not meeting me will make."

"I'm decided not to do it."

"Very well, my fine lady, we'll see about that. Ah, you little fool, you've wasted the time and now I must go back, my horse is already up to his knees in water. And how will _you_ get back, I'd like to know!"

"Perrin Corbet is coming to fetch me. Look, here he is."

A quarter of an hour later, all the _vraicqueurs_ were gathered together on the beach to eat their meal in common. Every woman had brought _gache_, biscuits and special _vraicquing_ cakes: while the rich farmers had provided a plentiful supply of cider which had been brought down in little barrels swung to the carts. It was a merry time, and Blaisette Le Mierre was looked upon as the queen of the feast. Very few spoke to Ellenor, for she was shunned as a marked character. Only Perrin paid her every attention, and saw that she had everything of the best. As for Dominic, it appeared as if he did not even see her: and people said he had been persecuted and waylaid by Miss Ellenor, for it was evident he did not care a straw for such a girl.

After the meal, some of the men carted away the _vraic_ to the farms over the cliffs, where it would be used to enrich the land. Others, with the help of the women, spread out the sea-weed, which was stored in heaps on the beach to dry. This, later on, would be used for fuel, and would give out its peculiar pungent smell, so dear and memory-stirring to all Channel Islanders.

So the _vraicquing_ festival ended; and that night Ellenor sobbed herself to sleep, a pa.s.sionate weary creature, too proud to bend to G.o.d and turn to goodness.

It was November; and one evening as Perrin Corbet was crossing a hill on his return home from fishing, he thought he heard a low moaning. He stopped and listened. Was it the cry of a sea-gull flying into shelter from the storm which was approaching? Was it, perhaps, the spirit of some drowned fisherman haunting his house?

No--it was the voice of a living woman in distress! He waited, and gradually traced the sound to a huge cromlech on the hill. He stopped at the entrance.

"It is I, Perrin Corbet!" he said quietly, "is anyone in trouble?"

"Yes, yes!" answered an eager voice, "come in and speak to me--Ellenor."

"My dear girl," went on the fisherman's even voice, "what are you doing here?"

"I've been hiding, there's an hour, from Dominic Le Mierre. Ah, it is no use, I must tell you all, for you never scold me and look black at me, like all the rest do. I said I wouldn't meet him now he's married, but the more I keep out of his way, the more it seems he finds me out."

"Then you don't care for him no more, like all Torteval said you did?"

"Care for him! Care! I love him with all my soul!"

"And him such a black character, and a smuggler! There's times and times I've seen him again to the cliffs with queer fellows; and others have seen him, too. But n.o.body likes to give him up to the constables, except me, and I've settled it that I'll tell what he is after. He deserves it, the way he treats you. And it will be a fine way of disgracing him. I'll risk that he'll bewitch me."

A dead silence followed his words. Then Ellenor's hand stole into his, and Ellenor's voice said softly,

"Perrin, is it you love me yet?"

He lifted her hand and kissed it.

"I love you better than even my mother. I love you next best to G.o.d."

"And yet, Perrin, I am not a good girl."

"Don't dare to say that to me! You _are_ good when you are not thinking of that scoundrel. It's him that has made people speak about you like they do! But, listen, Ellenor, if you was the blackest of the black, I'd love you, because it's you, and because I was made to love you, once and for ever."

She burst into a pa.s.sion of tears.