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Updated: May 14, 2025
It was not only two new pearls that Matheline showed at the corners of her rosy mouth, but a brilliant row that shone, and chattered, and laughed, from her lips down to her throat; for Pol Bihan had said to her: "Laugh as much as you can; for smiles attract fools, as the turning mirror catches larks."
The day before Christmas they came together to the tower, Matheline carrying a basket of chestnuts, Pol a large jug, full of sweet cider, to make merry with the godmother.
"I will soon show how I hate the wretch!" Dame Josserande heard her, and sighed, "Girl, whom I blessed in baptism, may God keep me from cursing you now!" This Matheline, whose pearls were worth nothing, was no coward; for she carried out her words, and marched straight up to the wolf, while Bihan stayed behind and cried, "Go, go, my friends; don't be afraid!
Standing in front of Matheline and barring the passage were two ragged beggars, with their wallets, leaning upon their staffs. Josserande recognized the two poor men who had so charitably aided her the night before; and one of them, who had snow-white hair and beard, said, "My brethren, why do you interfere in this? God rewards and punishes.
Not far from her was Matheline du Coat-Dor, bravely attired and very beautiful, but lavishing the pearls of her smiles upon all who sought them, forgetting no one but God; and, close to Matheline, Pol Bihan squared his broad shoulders. Then, even as Satan had given to Sylvestre Ker's sight the power of piercing the walls, so did he permit him to look into the depth of hearts.
In his feverish sleep he talked, and the name that escaped his lips was Matheline's. At his bedside the mother watched and prayed. When Sylvestre Ker awoke he wept, for the thought of his condemnation returned; but the remembrance of Pol and Matheline dried the tears in his burning eyes. "It was for those two," said he, "that I forgot God and my mother.
You have just acknowledged that you still love the laughing Matheline." "And that I hate her.... Yes, ... it is so.... But in eternity I wish to be with my dear mother, Josserande." "Were there no mothers," growled Satan, "I could play my game much better in the world!" And he added, "For the third time, ... adjudged!"
"'Tis the widow of the armed keeper of the great door!" "'Tis the mother of the wolf, Sylvestre Ker!" "She also has come to see...." "But what has she in her hand?" Twenty voices asked the question. Matheline, who had good eyes, and such beautiful ones, replied, "It looks like an axe.... Happy am I to be rid of those two, the mother and son! With them I could never laugh."
While waiting there was busy conversation: they spoke of the man-wolf, of phantoms, and also of betrothals, for the rumor was spread that the bans of Matheline du Coat-Dor, the promised bride of Sylvestre Ker, with the strong Pol Bihan, who had never found a rival in the wrestling-field, would be published on the following Sunday; and I leave you to imagine how Matheline's laughter ran in pearly cascades when congratulated on her approaching marriage.
They had come from Plouharnel, and also from Lannelar, from Carnac, from Kercado, even from the old town of Crach, beyond La Trinité. Who had brought together all these people, young and old, men and women? The legend does not say; but very probably Matheline had strewn around the cruel pearls of her laughter, and Pol Bihan had not been slow to relate what he had seen after the midnight Mass.
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