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Updated: May 4, 2025
As it happened, however, there was no mention of Pierrot Desbarat's surname in Jessie's account. Marie Beaugrand she spoke of, but Marie's fiancé, the last finder of the amethyst, she simply called Pierrot. "But have you yourself ever seen the sinister glory you describe?" asked Desbra, as they neared the McIntyre home. Jessie's story had interested him keenly.
God have No! she sails straight through the breakers! and not three feet of water on the shoal! "Two ships have reached the creek," continued Desbra, speaking more rapidly. "How the violet light shines through their sails! How crowded the decks are! All the faces are turned toward shore, with laughter and with streaming eyes, and hands outstretched to the fields of Grand Pré. I know the faces.
But one thing more you must do, you must get rid of that famous bargain of yours without delay. I'm not superstitious, Jack, but truly in this case I am disturbed. Bad luck, horrid bad luck, has always befallen any man owning that piece of Marsh, for the Marsh contains the Witch's Stone, and a spell is on the man that possesses that fatal jewel." Jack Desbra laughed and recaptured the maiden.
"The name of Marie's lover, the young man who found the 'Witch's Stone, was Pierrot Desbarats! D-e-s-b-a-r-a-t-s. You are none other, Jack, than the great-grandson of Marie and Pierrot." "Truly," said Desbra, "when I come to think of it, the name was spelled that way once upon a time!" "Well, you shall not be a man of Destiny, Jack!" exclaimed the girl. "I won't have it!
At last the girl could bear no longer the ghostly silence, and that strange look in her husband's face. "What do you see, Jack?" she cried. "What do you see? Oh, how terribly it shines!" When Desbra replied, she hardly recognized his voice. "I see many ships," said he, slowly, and as if he heard not the sound of his own words. "They sail in past Blomidon.
There was a long silence, while Desbra kept gazing on the mystic gleam as if fascinated. At last Jessie made a move as if she thought it time to return to the house, whereupon the young man, waking out of his fit of abstraction, said slowly: "Do you know, it seems to me now as if you had been telling me an old story.
"Why, I've just bought what so many of your fellow-countrymen call the 'Noo Ma'sh," answered Desbra. "I have got it for twenty dollars an acre, and it's worth a hundred any day! I've got the deed, and the thing's an accomplished fact." Jessie looked grave, and removed herself from her lover's embrace in order to lend impressiveness to her words.
"You have been dreaming or in a trance, and seeing dreadful things that I could not see at all! I could see nothing but that hateful 'Eye, which has been shining as if all the fires of hell were in it. Come away! we will sell the Marsh to-morrow at any price!" "But, dear," said Desbra, "the Star has gone out! There is not a sign of it to be seen. All outside is black as Egypt. Look!"
Let us sell the Marsh to-morrow, dear; for now that I belong to you I can no longer protect you from the spell. I had forgotten that!" "Very well," said Desbra, lightly, "if you say so, we'll sell to-morrow."
But as for me, that is another matter. We shall see if the 'Eye of Gluskâp' has any malign influence over me!" Early in December, having just returned to Grand Pré from their wedding journey, Jack Desbra and his wife were standing one evening in a window that looked out across the marshes and the Basin. It was a wild night.
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