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Updated: May 20, 2025
It was an overhanging rock which made a kind of canopy over a sweet spring, where, in the days when their labours sounded through the valley, the flaxbeaters from the level below came to eat their meals and to rest. This had always been a resort for her in the months when the flax-beaters did not use it. Since a child she had made the place her own.
As she passed him their eyes met, and his blood leapt in his veins. He had never seen her before, and, in a sense, he had never seen any woman before. He had danced with many a one, and kissed a few in the old days among the flax-beaters, at the harvesting, in the gaieties of a wedding, and also down in Massachusetts.
Presently there rushed upon her the words that had rung in her ears and chimed in her heart at the Rest of the Flax-beaters: "Take all, dear love! thou art my life's defender; Speak to my soul! Take life and love; take all." Feelings lying beneath the mad conflict of emotion which had sent her into this room in such unmaidenly fashion feelings that were her deepest self-welled up.
There would be yet a half-hour's sun and then a short twilight, and the river and the woods and the Rest of the Flax-beaters would be her own; and she could think of the wonderful thing come upon her.
Presently there rushed upon her the words that had rung in her ears and chimed in her heart at the Rest of the Flax-beaters: "Take all, dear love! thou art my life's defender; Speak to my soul! Take life and love; take all." Feelings lying beneath the mad conflict of emotion which had sent her into this room in such unmaidenly fashion feelings that were her deepest self-welled up.
It was an overhanging rock which made a kind of canopy over a sweet spring, where, in the days when their labours sounded through the valley, the flaxbeaters from the level below came to eat their meals and to rest. This had always been a resort for her in the months when the flax-beaters did not use it. Since a child she had made the place her own.
There would be yet a half-hour's sun and then a short twilight, and the river and the woods and the Rest of the Flax-beaters would be her own; and she could think of the wonderful thing come upon her.
"My blessed one my angel," he whispered; but there was a look in his eyes which only M. Fille had seen there before. It was the look which had been in his eyes at the flax-beaters' place by the river. "Sing father, you must sing," said Zoe, and motioned to the fiddler. "Sing It's Fifty Years," she cried eagerly. They all repeated her request, and he could but obey.
She had seen Charley take the path to Vadrome Mountain, and to the Rest of the Flax-beaters she betook herself, in the blind hope that, returning, he might pass that way. Under the influence of the fresh air and the quiet of the woods her spirits rose, her pulse beat faster, though a sense of foreboding and sorrow hovered round her.
There was a little Calvary down by the riverside, where the flax-beaters used to say their prayers in the intervals of their work; and it was just at the foot of this that Angele Rouvier, having finished her prayer, put her rosary in her pocket, wiped her eyes with the hem of her petticoat, and said to me: "Ah, dat poor Mathurin, I wipe my tears for him!"
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