In an instant the shining form he had invoked was at his side.
“Fear nothing,” said the saint; “those who are protected by the Mother of God are always victorious over the monsters of the earth. Raise your club and lay the dragon dead at your feet;” and with these words he raised his hand, pronouncing some words that can only be heard in heaven. Mao aimed a fearful blow at the dragon’s head, and that very moment the huge monster sank dead upon its side.
The next morning, when the sun rose, Mao went to awaken all the people at the manor, and led them to the stables; but at sight of the dead monster even the most courageous started back at least ten paces.
“Do not be afraid,” said the young man; “the Blessed Mother came to my assistance, and the beast that fed on cattle and their guardians is nothing now but lifeless clay. Only fetch some ropes, and let us drag it from this place to some lonely waste.”
So they did as he desired; and when the dragon was drawn forth from his den, the whole length of his body was so great that it extended twice round the black-wheat barn-floor.[1]
The old man, happy in his deliverance from so dangerous an enemy, fulfilled the promise he had made to Mao, and gave to him Liçzenn in marriage. She was led to church at Camfront, her left arm circled, after the custom of the country, by as many rows of silver-lace as there were thousands of francs in her dowry; and the story goes that she had eighteen.
As soon as he was married, Mao bought cattle, hired servants, and soon brought the land about the manor to a more flourishing condition than it had ever known before.
Then went the grandfather to seek his recompense from God, and left all that he possessed to the young couple.
So happy were they in each other and themselves, that no baptised creature ever felt the like,—so happy, that when they knelt in prayer, they could think of nothing to request from God that He had not already blest them with; so they had nothing to do but to thank Him. But one day, as they were sitting down to supper with their servants, one of their attendants introduced a soldier, so tall that his head reached the rafters; and Liçzenn knew him for her cousin Matelinn. He had come back from the French war to marry his cousin; and learning what had come to pass during his absence, he had felt the bitterest rage. Nevertheless, he betrayed nothing of his thoughts to Mao and his wife; for his was a deceitful heart.
Mao, who suspected nothing, received him with affectionate kindness; set before him the best of every thing in the house; had the handsomest room prepared for his reception; and went out to show him all the fields, now ripe for harvest.