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Updated: April 30, 2025
"Put up your music, my lad," said Yann; "old Neptune is playing us a livelier tune than yours." A heavily beating shower, which had threatened since morning, began to fall. There was a mad rush then, accompanied by outcries and laughter, to climb up the bluff and take refuge at the Gaoses'. The wedding breakfast was given at Yann's parents', because Gaud's home was so poor.
"The night of the ball," she tried to continue, "when we were together, you bade me good-bye, not as a man speaks to an indifferent person. Monsieur Yann, have you no memory? What have I done to vex you?" The nasty western breeze blowing in from the street ruffled his hair and the frills of Gaud's coiffe, and behind them a door was banged furiously.
He took off his cap, and pushed back his splendid white locks, which were in curls like Yann's, and sat down by Gaud's bedside. His heart ached fully, too, for Yann, his tall, handsome Yann, was his first-born, his favourite and his pride; but he did not despair yet.
A strange languor seemed to envelop them both; they spoke to one another in a low voice, apart, in the midst of the general gaiety. Yann, knowing thoroughly the effect of wine, did not drink at all. Now and then he turned dull too, thinking of Sylvestre. It was an understood thing that there was to be no dancing, on account of him and of Gaud's dead father.
"Gaos, the son, sends you his kind remembrance; he has renewed his articles with Captain Guermeur of the Marie, and the departure for Iceland was rather early this year, for they set sail on the first of the month, two days before our poor Gaud's trouble, and he don't know of it yet.
They spoke to one another in that low voice of all lovers. But upon this particular evening their conversation was now and again broken by long troubled silence. He, in particular, said very little and lowered his head with a faint smile, avoiding Gaud's inquiring eyes.
There was one for him, postmarked "Paimpol," but it was not Gaud's writing. What did that mean? from whom did it come else? After having turned and flourished it about, he opened it fearingly, and read: "PLOUBAZLANEC, March 5th, 1884. So, it was from his dear old granny. He breathed free again.
Often the air is calm and pellucid, without a single cloud on high. At the hour of Gaud's return journey, all things had already begun to fade in the nightfall, and become fused into close, compact groups.
Sometimes on their stone seat he lay down, resting his head in Gaud's lap like a caressing child, till, suddenly remembering propriety, he would draw himself up erect. He would have liked to lie on the very ground at her feet, and remain there with his brow pressed to the hem of her garments. Excepting the brotherly kiss he gave her when he came and went, he did not dare to embrace her.
He took off his cap, and pushed back his splendid white locks, which were in curls like Yann's, sat down by Gaud's bedside. His heart ached heavily too; for Yann, his tall, handsome Yann, was his first-born, his favorite and his pride: but he did not despair yet. He comforted Gaud in his own blunt, affectionate way.
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