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Updated: May 22, 2025
"It seems I haven't seen Le Mierre for a long time," she went on. "He's been away ever since his wife's death. It was said everywhere, in the two parishes and even to Saint Pierre Port that he went off because of poor Blaisette. She came again and again to Orvillière like a white sea-gull, crying and flapping her wings against his bedroom window.
Jean and Perrin lingered to watch the splendid action of Le Mierre, as, once more, he led the line of animals: but Ellenor walked on and never even glanced to see if Blaisette were still in the field. She did not wait for the men and kept a little ahead of them as she mounted the cliff to the moorland above. Her head was bent, her arms hung down listlessly.
Then, by and bye, down came Le Mierre and another man with bundles of silk, or what looked like it ... and the fellow in the boat got up and caught hold of the bundles and went off with them like the very devil. Le Mierre and his man were up the cliff again before I could whistle to them that I was by.
"Means!" echoed the fisherman, "of course it means only one thing, that there will soon be a wedding, that the bride will be Blaisette Simon and the bridegroom will be Dominic Le Mierre. But why do you ask me? You said you knew yourself what it meant when you saw the chest in the cart!" "Bah, don't be so stupid and tease me like that! There might be some mistake.
The servant and the housekeeper had been all the evening at a wedding feast, and when they returned at five o'clock next morning they found excited groups of people all about the farm, and they heard the story of the death of Dominic Le Mierre. No one would dream of living henceforth at Orvillière. It was haunted.
But he stopped to Guernsey after all and he married a girl from near here and it was him built Les Casquets. There! that's where she gets her queer ways, Ellenor!" "And now tell me about her plan." "Well, it seems she thought, foolish girl, she'd find out, for sure, if Le Mierre really loves her or only her looks. And she couldn't think of no better way than this mad one.
He really spoke to ease his mind; but he was very far from longing to deliver up Dominic to justice, in spite of the pricking of his conscience, which whispered to him that he was like an accomplice in a crime if he did not tell of the smuggling business. He was silent now, and Ellenor began to speak again. "If you take my advice you won't meddle with Monsieur Le Mierre at all.
Your eyes once more beautiful with long eyelashes; your sad mouth! Ah, Ellenor, how can I speak to you like this quietly! I love you more than ever! But I know it is useless! Did you think I meant your looks when I spoke of what you had lost? Oh, no, I mean something else." "What is it you mean?" "That you have lost him you love, Dominic Le Mierre."
When she had disappeared into the darkness, Le Mierre muttered to himself, "I'm ensorcelai, that's certain, for I've never found out what brought the girl here at all!" It was winter, always a time for enjoyment in the days of old Guernsey, when evening after evening, people met together at the Veilles, to knit and sing and to tell stories of witchcraft and weird tales of the sea.
The kitchen was full of people, eating and drinking round a long table covered with great pieces of meat and puddings of every description. At the head of the table was Dominic Le Mierre, evidently the worse for drink, which, however had not made him idiotic, but which had maddened him into wild and extravagant excitement.
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