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All at once, he got up, and from the rack fastened across the beamed ceiling he took an old black book, his friend and evil counsellor, the Grand-Mêle which had been in his family for generations. It was a book of magic, containing spells to be used on every conceivable occasion, and Dominic Le Mierre was past-master in the black art.
And, moreover, I, Le Mierre, oh, so respectable and fine of a Sunday, pulling a long face in my pew, and yet, behold, here I am a smuggler, keeping guard over brandy and lace and silks! And why the devil did I kiss you, for it isn't that you are a pretty girl or enticing, eh?" The girl trembled and turned away her head.
But, quick, tell me, how is it you came here?" She buried her face in her hands, and broke into bitter weeping. And Perrin could not clasp her in his arms. Presently she spoke, in a low voice, full of anguish. "It was like this. On Christmas Eve, when I was coming back from Saint Pierre Port, I met Monsieur Le Mierre. He stopped me and wanted me to go back to the town with him.
She had first thought of these rocks! She would fight for her rights! The splashing came nearer. She did not turn round. A scrambling sound followed; then she heard heavy steps mount the rocks. "Ellenor," said a well-known voice, "what luck to find you quite alone here!" It was Dominic Le Mierre, and it was the first time the two had met alone since his wedding day.
"Give yourself up, and all will be well! I've looked for you far and wide. At last I find you. Come, Le Mierre, don't be a fool about this. It will only be a fine, and perhaps not even that, if you give up the other chaps." But the master of Orvillière was not to be reasoned with. He was in a towering rage. He wrenched the pistol from the saddle. He fired it at the exciseman. It missed him.
He grasped her arm roughly and knitting his brows was buried in thought again. But she broke in on his silence, with blazing eyes of such beauty that he understood why he had kissed her. "Not a bit of it, Monsieur Le Mierre! A man is not a fool to trust a girl who ... likes ... him!" "But, that's all very well! How is it you like me? You've never spoken to me before."
These good things were brought down in large baskets from Orvillière; and the men scattered in little groups as they ate and drank, discussed farming, or looked out over the wide sea just beyond the field, and wondered if fishing would pay this year. Suddenly Le Mierre gave the call for a return to work, and again the glorious ploughing went forward till noon.
Le Mierre was at her side at once and a pretty flirtation sprang up, for the master was in an excellent temper and the girl was marvellously taken by the handsome power and devilry of the captain of the work. Never had she seen him look half so well, she said to herself. Ah, if he proposed, she would not feel inclined to refuse him!
That meant the combination of these neighbours into a band of all day workers, for the purpose of deeply trenching a certain field in preparation for the cultivation of parsnips. The large expensive plough to be used was the joint property of Le Mierre and his richer neighbours, and it was, naturally, available for each in turn.
Ellenor's duty was to take fresh relays of cake and wine into the best parlour: and towards the end of the afternoon, when it was dusk, and the lamps were not yet lit, she entered the room suddenly, intent on business. There were only two people seated by the fire. One was Blaisette, a vision of dainty prettiness in a new blue gown; the other was Dominic Le Mierre. He held the girl's hand in his.
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