But the higher Matelinn saw the flax, and the heavier the ears of corn, the more he was enraged at not being the possessor of all this; to say nothing of his cousin Liçzenn, who had grown more charming than ever. So one day he proposed to Mao that they should hunt together on the downs of Logoma, and thus contrived to lead him towards a distant heath, where he had an old deserted windmill, against which bundles of furze for the baker’s oven at Daoulas had been heaped up in great piles. When they reached this place, he turned his face towards Camfront, and said suddenly to his young companion,
“Ah! I can see the manor all this way off, with its great courtyard.”
“Which way?” asked Mao.
“Behind that little beech-wood. Don’t you see the great hall-windows?”
“I am too short,” said Mao.
“Ah, you are right, so you are; and it is a pity too, for I can see my cousin Liçzenn in the little yard beside the garden.”
“Is she alone?”
“No; there are some gentlemen with her whispering in her ear.”
“And what is Liçzenn doing?”
“Liçzenn is listening to them, whilst she twists her apron-string.”