Part 4 Yann's First Wedding Chapter 5

One rainy evening they were sitting side by side near the hearth, andGranny Moan was asleep opposite them. The fire flames, dancing overthe branches on the hearth, projected their magnified shadows on thebeams overhead.

　　They spoke to one another in that low voice of all lovers. But uponthis particular evening their conversation was now and again broken bylong troubled silence. He, in particular, said very little and loweredhis head with a faint smile, avoiding Gaud's inquiring eyes. For shehad been pressing him with questions all the evening concerning thatmystery that he positively would not divulge; and this time he felthimself cornered. She was too quick for him, and had fully made up hermind to learn; no possible shifts could get him out of telling hernow.

　　"Was it any bad tales told about me?" she asked.

　　He tried to answer "yes," and faltered: "Oh! there was always plentyof rubbish babbled in Paimpol and Ploubazlanec."She asked what, but he could not answer her; so then she thought ofsomething else. "Was it about my style of dress, Yann?"Yes, of course, that had had something to do with it; at one time shehad dressed too grandly to be the wife of a simple fisherman. But hewas obliged to acknowledge that that was not all.

　　"Was it because at that time we passed for very rich people, and youwere afraid of being refused?""Oh, no! not that." He said this with such simple confidence that Gaudwas amused.

　　Then fell another silence, during which the moaning of the sea-windswas heard outside. Looking attentively at him, a fresh idea struckher, and her expression changed.

　　"If not anything of that sort, Yann, /what/ was it?" demanded she,suddenly, looking at him fair in the eyes, with the irresistiblequestioning look of one who guesses the truth, and could dispense withconfirmation.

　　He turned aside, laughing outright.

　　So at last she had, indeed, guessed aright; he never could give her areal reason, because there was none to give. He had simply "played themule" (as Sylvestre had said long ago). But everybody had teased himso much about that Gaud, his parents, Sylvestre, his Iceland mates,and even Gaud herself. Hence he had stubbornly said "no," but knewwell enough in the bottom of his heart that when nobody thought anymore about the hollow mystery it would become "yes."So it was on account of Yann's childishness that Gaud had beenlanguishing, forsaken for two long years, and had longed to die.

　　At first Yann laughed, but now he looked at Gaud with kind eyes,questioning deeply. Would she forgive him? He felt such remorse forhaving made her suffer. Would she forgive him?

　　"It's my temper that does it, Gaud," said he. "At home with my folks,it's the same thing. Sometimes, when I'm stubborn, I remain a wholeweek angered against them, without speaking to anybody. Yet you knowhow I love them, and I always end by doing what they wish, like a boy.

　　If you think that I was happy to live unmarried, you're mistaken. No,it couldn't have lasted anyway, Gaud, you may be sure."Of course, she forgave him. As she felt the soft tears fall, she knewthey were the outflow of her last pangs vanishing before Yann'sconfession. Besides, the present never would have been so happywithout all her suffering; that being over, she was almost pleased athaving gone through that time of trial.

　　Everything was finally cleared up between them, in a very unexpectedthough complete manner; there remained no clouds between their souls.

　　He drew her towards him, and they remained some time with their cheekspressed close, requiring no further explanations. So chaste was theirembrace, that the old grandam suddenly awaking, they remained beforeher as they were without any confusion or embarrassment.