Part 5 The Second Wedding Chapter 1

After the spring day they had enjoyed, the falling night brought backthe impression of winter, and they returned to dine before their fire,which was flaming with new branches. It was their last meal together;but they had some hours yet, and were not saddened.

　　After dinner, they recovered the sweet impression of spring again, outon the Pors-Even road; for the air was calm, almost genial, and thetwilight still lingered over the land.

　　They went to see the family--for Yann to bid good-bye--and returnedearly, as they wished to rise with break of day.

　　The next morning the quay of Paimpol was crowded with people. Thedepartures for Iceland had begun the day before, and with each tidethere was a fresh fleet off. On this particular morning, fifteenvessels were to start with the /Leopoldine/, and the wives or mothersof the sailors were all present at the getting under sail.

　　Gaud, who was now the wife of an Icelander, was much surprised to findherself among them all, and brought thither for the same fatefulpurpose. Her position seemed to have become so intensified within thelast few days, that she had barely had time to realize things as theywere; gliding irresistibly down an incline, she had arrived at thisinexorable conclusion that she must bear up for the present, and do asthe others did, who were accustomed to it.

　　She never before had been present at these farewells; hence all wasnew to her. Among these women was none like her, and she felt herdifference and isolation. Her past life, as a lady, was stillremembered, and caused her to be set aside as one apart.

　　The weather had remained fine on this parting-day; but out at sea aheavy swell came from the west, foretelling wind, and the sea, lyingin wait for these new adventurers, burst its crests afar.

　　Around Gaud stood many good-looking wives like her, and touching, withtheir eyes big with tears; others were thoughtless and lively; thesehad no heart or were not in love. Old women, threatened nearly bydeath, wept as they clung to their sons; sweethearts kissed eachother; half-maudlin sailors sang to cheer themselves up, while otherswent on board with gloomy looks as to their execution.

　　Many sad incidents could be marked; there were poor luckless fellowswho had signed their contracts unconsciously, when in liquor in thegrog-shop, and they had to be dragged on board by force; their ownwives helping the gendarmes. Others, noted for their great strength,had been drugged in drink beforehand, and were carried like corpses onstretchers, and flung down in the forecastles.

　　Gaud was frightened by all this; what companions were these for herYann? and what a fearful thing was this Iceland, to inspire men withsuch terror of it?

　　Yet there were sailors who smiled, and were happy; who, doubtless,like Yann, loved the untrammelled life and hard fishing work; thosewere the sound, able seamen, who had fine noble countenances; if theywere unmarried they went off recklessly, merely casting a last look onthe lasses; and if they were married, they kissed their wives andlittle ones, with fervent sadness and deep hopefulness as to returninghome all the richer.

　　Gaud was a little comforted when she saw that all the /Leopoldines/were of the latter class, forming really a picked crew.

　　The vessels set off two by two, or four by four, drawn out by thetugs. As soon as they moved the sailors raised their caps and, full-voiced, struck up the hymn to the Virgin: "/Salut, Etoile-de-la-Mer/!"(All Hail! Star of the Sea!), while on the quay, the women waved theirhands for a last farewell, and tears fell upon the lace strings of thecaps.

　　As soon as the /Leopoldine/ started, Gaud quickly set off towards thehouse of the Gaoses. After an hour and a half's walk along the coast,through the familiar paths of Ploubazlanec, she arrived there, at thevery land's end, within the home of her new family.

　　The /Leopoldine/ was to cast anchor off Pors-Even before startingdefinitely in the evening, so the married pair had made a lastappointment here. Yann came to land in the yawl, and stayed anotherthree hours with her to bid her good-bye on firm land. The weather wasstill beautiful and spring-like, and the sky serene.

　　They walked out on the high road arm-in-arm, and it reminded them oftheir walk the day before. They strolled on towards Paimpol withoutany apparent object in view, and soon came to their own house, as ifunconsciously drawn there; they entered together for the last time.

　　Grandam Moan was quite amazed at seeing them together again.

　　Yann left many injunctions with Gaud concerning several of his thingsin his wardrobe, especially about his fine wedding clothes; she was totake them out occasionally and air them in the sun, and so on. Onboard ship the sailors learn all these household-like matters; butGaud was amused to hear it. Her husband might have been sure, though,that all his things would be kept and attended to, with loving care.

　　But all these matters were very secondary for them; they spoke of themonly to have something to talk about, and to hide their real feelings.

　　They went on speaking in low, soft tones, as if fearing to frightenaway the moments that remained, and so make time flit by more swiftlystill. Their conversation was as a thing that had inexorably to cometo an end; and the most insignificant things that they said seemed, onthis day, to become wondrous, mysterious, and important.

　　At the very last moment Yann caught up his wife in his arms, andwithout saying a word, they were enfolded in a long and silentembrace.

　　He embarked; the gray sails were unfurled and spread out to the lightwind that rose from the west. He, whom she still could distinguish,waved his cap in a particular way agreed on between them. And with herfigure outlined against the sea, she gazed for a long, long time uponher departing love.

　　That tiny, human-shaped speck, appearing black against the bluish grayof the waters, was still her husband, even though already it becamevague and indefinable, lost in the distance, where persistent sightbecomes baffled, and can see no longer.

　　As the /Leopoldine/ faded out of vision, Gaud, as if drawn by amagnet, followed the pathway all along the cliffs till she had tostop, because the land came to an end; she sat down at the foot of atall cross, which rises amidst the gorse and stones. As it was ratheran elevated spot, the sea, as seen from there, appeared to be rimmed,as in a bowl, and the /Leopoldine/, now a mere point, appeared sailingup the incline of that immense circle. The water rose in great slowundulations, like the upheavals of a submarine combat going onsomewhere beyond the horizon; but over the great space where Yannstill was, all dwelt calm.

　　Gaud still gazed at the ship, trying to fix its image well in herbrain, so that she might recognise it again from afar, when shereturned to the same place to watch for its home-coming.

　　Great swells now rolled in from the west, one after another, withoutcessation, renewing their useless efforts, and ever breaking over thesame rocks, foaming over the same places, to wash the same stones. Thestifled fury of the sea appeared strange, considering the absolutecalmness of the air and sky; it was as if the bed of the sea were toofull and would overflow and swallow up the strand.

　　The /Leopoldine/ had grown smaller and smaller, and was lost in thedistance. Doubtless the under-tow carried her along, for she movedswiftly and yet the evening breezes were very faint. Now she was onlya tiny, gray touch, and would soon reach the extreme horizon of allvisible things, and enter those infinite regions, whence darkness wasbeginning to come.

　　Going on seven o'clock, night closed, and the boat had disappeared.

　　Gaud returned home, feeling withal rather brave, notwithstanding thetears that uncontainably fell. What a difference it would have been,and what still greater pain, if he had gone away, as in the twopreceding years, without even a good-bye! While now everything wassoftened and bettered between them. He was really her own Yann, andshe knew herself to be so truly loved, notwithstanding thisseparation, that, as she returned home alone, she felt at leastconsoled by the thought of the delightful waiting for that "soonagain!" to be realized to which they had pledged themselves for theautumn.