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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Dear godmother, I shall always be with you," said Matheline, "to comfort and rejoice your old age; for your son is my heart." Pol Bihan continued, "I will never marry, but always remain with my friend, Sylvestre Ker, whom I love more than myself. And nothing must worry you; if he is weak, I am strong, and I will work for two."
It came to pass that as all these young people, Pol Bihan, Matheline, and Sylvestre Ker, gained a year each time that twelve months rolled by, they reached the age to think of marriage; and Josserande, one morning, proceeded to the dwelling of the farmer of Coat-Dor to ask the hand of Matheline for her son, Sylvestre Ker; at which proposal Matheline opened her rosy mouth so wide, to laugh the louder, that far back she showed two pearls which had never before been seen.
Go to the Christmas Mass in my place; say to Matheline that she will be rich, and to my dear mother that she will have a happy old age, since she will live and die with her fortunate son." When Sylvestre Ker was alone, he listened to the noise of the waves dashing upon the beach and the sighing of the wind among the great oaks, two mournful sounds.
Pol Bihan kicked him on the head, and said, "Take that, you fool!" and Matheline threw stones at him, and cried: "Idiot, take that, and that, and that!" They had hoped for all the gold in the world, and this dead beast could give them nothing more. After a while two ragged beggars passed by and assisted Josserande in carrying the wolf into the tower. Where is charity most often found?
The ram, prevented from slaughtering Matheline, dashed after Pol Bihan, who fled; reached him just at the end of the cliff, and pushed him into the sea, that beat against the rocks fifty feet below. Well content with his work, the ram walked off, and the legend says he laughed behind his woolly beard. But Matheline wept bitterly, and cried,
Even while piously inhaling the perfume of this celestial hymn, the young tenant wished to know what Matheline was saying to God. Everything speaks to God, the wild beasts in the forest, the birds in the air, even the plants, whose roots are in the ground. But miserable girls who sell the pearls of their smiles are lower than the animals and vegetables. Nothing is beneath them, Pol Bihan excepted.
She also was alone; for Matheline and Pol Bihan, seized with terror, had rushed across the fields at the first alarm and abandoned their precious charge. The grand abbot called Josserande and said, "Woman, do not despair. Above you is the Infinite Goodness, who holds in His hands the heavens and the whole earth.
And he looked with conflicting feelings at the empty seats of Matheline and of his dear mother Josserande. Little by little had he seen the black hair of the widow become gray, then white, around her sunken temples. That night memory carried him back even to his cradle, over which had bent the sweet, noble face of her who had always spoken to him of God.
Bihan, traitor, I eat your strength!" The black mass again bounded through the terrified crowd, his bloody tongue hanging from his mouth, his eyes darting fire. This time it was from Matheline that a scream still more horrible than that of Pol's was heard; and again there was the noise of another terrible feast, and the voice of the wild beast, which had already spoken, growled,
Sylvestre Ker closed his window. He sat down, his head clasped by his trembling hands. His heart was rent by two forces that dragged him, one to the right, the other to the left, his Mother's prayer and Matheline's laughter. He was no miser; he did not covet gold for the sake of gold, but that he might buy the row of pearls and smiles that hung from the lips of Matheline....
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