Part 3 In The Shadow Chapter 17

It was manifest that Yann meant to accompany them; perhaps all the wayhome. They walked on, all three together, as if following the cat'sfuneral procession; it was almost comical to watch them pass; and theold folks on the doorsteps grinned at the sight. Old Yvonne, in themiddle, carried the dead pet; Gaud walked on her right, trembling andblushing, and tall Yann on the left, grave and haughty.

　　The aged woman had become quiet now; she had tidied her hair upherself and walked silently, looking alternately at them both from thetail of her eyes, which had become clear again.

　　Gaud said nothing for fear of giving Yann the opportunity of takinghis leave; she would have liked to feel his kind, tender eyeseternally on her, and to walk along with her own closed so as to thinkof nothing else; to wander along thus by his side in the dream she wasweaving, instead of arriving so soon at their lonely, dark cottage,where all must fade away.

　　At the door occurred one of those moments of indecision when the heartseems to stop beating. The grandam went in without turning round, thenGaud, hesitating, and Yann, behind, entered, too.

　　He was in their house for the first time in his life--probably withoutany reason. What could he want? As he passed over the threshold hetouched his hat, and then his eyes fell and dwelt upon Sylvestre'sportrait in its small black-beaded frame. He went slowly up to it, asto a tomb.

　　Gaud remained standing with her hands resting on the table. He lookedaround him; she watched him take a silent inspection of their poverty.

　　Very poor looked this cottage of the two forsaken women. At least hemight feel some pity for her, seeing her reduced to this misery insideits plain granite and whitewash. Only the fine white bed remained ofall past splendour, and involuntarily Yann's eyes rested there.

　　He said nothing. Why did he not go? The old grandmother, althoughstill so sharp in her lucid intervals, appeared not to notice him. Howodd! So they remained over against one another, seeming respectivelyto question with a yearning desire. But the moments were flitting, andeach second seemed to emphasize the silence between them. They gazedat one another more and more searchingly, as if in solemn expectationof some wonderful, exquisite event, which was too long in coming.

　　"Gaud," he began, in a low grave voice, "if you're still of a mindnow----"What was he going to say? She felt instinctively that he had suddenlytaken a mighty resolution--rapidly as he always did, but hardly daredword it.

　　"If you be still of a mind--d'ye see, the fish has sold well thisyear, and I've a little money ahead----""If she were still of a mind!" What was he asking of her? Had sheheard aright? She felt almost crushed under the immensity of what shethought she premised.

　　All the while, old Yvonne, in her corner, pricked up her ears, feelinghappiness approach.

　　"We could make a splice on it--a marriage, right off, MademoiselleGaud, if you are still of the same mind?"He listened here for her answer, which did not come. What could stopher from pronouncing that "yes?" He looked astonished and frightened,she could see that. Her hands clutched the table edge. She had turnedquite white and her eyes were misty; she was voiceless, and lookedlike some maid dying in her flower.

　　"Well, Gaud, why don't you answer?" said Granny Yvonne, who had risenand come towards them. "Don't you see, it rather surprises her,Monsieur Yann. You must excuse her. She'll think it over and answeryou later on. Sit you down a bit, Monsieur Yann, and take a glass ofcider with us."It was not the surprise, but ecstasy that prevented Gaud fromanswering; no words at all came to her relief. So it really was truethat he was good and kind-hearted. She knew him aright--the same trueYann, her own, such as she never had ceased to see him,notwithstanding his sternness and his rough refusal. For a long timehe had disdained her, but now he accepted her, although she was poor.

　　No doubt it had been his wish all through; he may have had a motivefor so acting, which she would know hereafter; but, for the present,she had no intention of asking him his meaning, or of reproaching himfor her two years of pining. Besides, all that was past, ay, andforgotten now; in one single moment everything seemed carried awaybefore the delightful whirlwind that swept over her life!

　　Still speechless, she told him of her great love and adoration for himby her sweet brimming eyes alone; she looked deeply and steadily athim, while the copious shower of happy tears poured adown her roseatecheeks.

　　"Well done! and God bless you, my children," said Granny Moan. "It'sthankful I be to Him, too, for I'm glad to have been let grow so oldto see this happy thing afore I go."Still there they remained, standing before one another with claspedhands, finding no words to utter; knowing of no word sweet enough, andno sentence worthy to break that exquisite silence.

　　"Why don't ye kiss one another, my children? Lor'! but they're dumb!

　　Dear me, what strange grandchildren I have here! Pluck up, Gaud; saysome'at to him, my dear. In my time lovers kissed when they plightedtheir troth."Yann raised his hat, as if suddenly seized with a vast, heretoforeunfelt reverence, before bending down to kiss Gaud. It seemed to himthat this was the first kiss worthy of the name he ever had given inhis life.

　　She kissed him also, pressing her fresh lips, unused to refinements ofcaresses, with her whole heart, to his sea-bronzed cheek.

　　Among the stones the cricket sang of happiness, being right for thistime. And Sylvestre's pitiful insignificant portrait seemed to smileon them out of its black frame. All things, in fact, seemed suddenlyto throb with life and with joy in the blighted cottage. The verysilence apparently burst into exquisite music; and the pale wintertwilight, creeping in at the narrow window, became a wonderful,unearthly glow.

　　"So we'll go to the wedding when the Icelanders return; eh, my dearchildren?"Gaud hung her head. "Iceland," the "/Leopoldine/"--so it was all real!

　　while she had already forgotten the existence of those terrible thingsthat arose in their way.

　　"When the Icelanders return."How long that anxious summer waiting would seem!

　　Yann drummed on the floor with his foot feverishly and rapidly. Heseemed to be in a great hurry to be off and back, and was telling thedays to know if, without losing time, they would be able to getmarried before his sailing. So many days to get the official papersfilled and signed; so many for the banns: that would only bring themup to the twentieth or twenty-fifth of the month for the wedding, andif nothing rose in the way, they could have a whole honeymoon weektogether before he sailed.

　　"I'm going to start by telling my father," said he, with as much hasteas if each moment of their lives were now numbered and precious.