“Well, sister, only let me have her,” replied Perrik, “and I will give up to you our father’s farm, on which you were born, with all the fields, ploughs, and horses.”
This proposal Ninorc’h accepted, and was forthwith put in possession, turning up a sod in the meadows, taking a draught of water from the well, and kindling a fire on the hearth; besides cutting a tuft of hair from the horses’ tails in token of ownership.[10] She then delivered Mor Vyoc’h to Perrik, who led her away to a house which he had at some distance, towards Menez-Brée.
A day of tears and sadness was that for May-flower; and as at night she went the round of the stalls to see that all was right, she could not help again and again murmuring, as she filled the mangers,
“Alas, Mor Vyoc’h is gone! I shall never see Mor Vyoc’h again.”
With this lament still on her lips, she suddenly heard a lowing behind her, in which, as by virtue of the gold-herb her ears were now open to the language of all animals, she distinctly made out these words,
“Here I am again, my little mistress,”
May-flower turned round in astonishment, and there indeed was Mor Vyoc’h.
“Oh, can this indeed be you?” cried the little girl. “And what, then, has brought you back?”
“I cannot belong to your uncle Perrik,” said Mor Vyoc’h, “for my nature forbids me to remain with such as are not in a state of grace; so I am come back to be with you again as before.”
“But then my mother must give back the farm, the fields, and all that she has received for you.”