The next morning Father Austin arrived. Hilda was then made acquainted with her relationship to Haco, whose tender attentions during her late troubles had already won her unreserved affection. The news was an inexpressible joy to her, and it was touching to see how she nestled in the deep embrace of her father, whose feelings, so long pent up, now at last found vent. Jean absented himself during the day, but on the following morning insisted that his nuptials should no longer be deferred. The same evening, in the little chapel of the nunnery, Austin bestowed his blessing on a union which had been sanctified by such special manifestations of Divine approval.
The readjustment of the shattered organization of the island was imperative. The inhabitants of the eastern side, and those of the Vale, had for the most part preserved their lives by their absence from the forest; the Christian converts who had aided in the struggle were also safe; with these exceptions the island was practically depopulated. Jean was elected chief by acclamation. After giving such pressing directions as immediate exigencies required, he acceded to his wife's ardent wish to obtain intelligence respecting Judith, and also to ascertain the fate of Tita.
The Lihou monks had already reported that all communication was broken between the Hanois and the shore, but that the tower appeared to be intact. On an April morning Haco and the young couple sailed across Rocquaine Bay, and landed close to the tower, which now stood on a rugged and inhospitable island. The door was opened by Tita, who smiled, and prattled, and caressed her young mistress like a lap-dog. She recognised Jean with indifference, but a start, followed by a shudder, seized her when she observed Haco; her terror, however, seemed to pass away when he spoke a few soothing words to her. It was evident that a shock, or a succession of shocks, had unsettled the poor woman's brain. On the name of Judith being mentioned, she pointed fearfully to the upper story. Uncertain as to her meaning, Jean cautiously ascended the ladder, and ascertained that the sorceress was in truth there. After a consultation it was decided that Haco and Hilda should seek her presence.
As father and daughter entered the apartment, they saw the old woman half-seated, half-lying, on a couch placed close to the window; her face, which was turned seaward, was haggard, the leanness bringing into strong relief the handsome chiselling of her profile; the sternness of her mouth was somewhat relaxed; there was an indication almost of softness in its corners. Her high spirit had accepted, not resented, defeat.
As her eye fell on her two visitors there was no gleam of defiance, no mark of anger, or even surprise; but, when Haco stood fully revealed before her, a flash of triumph and pleasure shot into it, kindling every feature with its glow. "You here, Haco!" she cried, "and with her! The Gods have relented. You will hold her fast in their worship, and lead her steps to the land of her sires! I die contented." She fell back exhausted. "Sister," said the giant, laying his hand softly on her shoulder, "it is too late; when Algar slew my loved one the Pagan died in me; I am a servant of the God of the Christians." Hilda awaited fearfully the result of this announcement, but she knew not the greatness of the old woman's soul. It was long ere her voice was heard again. Presently, raising herself, she said, "I would it had been otherwise; but I have erred, I have misjudged. I thought that your Gods were false; puny creations of a nerveless brain; but they are strong, I own their power! It may be that the great ones of old have wearied of our spiritless race, and abandoned us. So perchance you may be wise to turn to the new-comers!" Her voice failed her, but as they knelt by her side her hands wandered over their heads and lingered with a caressing movement among Hilda's locks. She seemed to have forgotten Jean, whom she doubtless believed to have been lost in the general calamity. Suddenly she started up and pointed to a storm-cloud rising rapidly from the western horizon, assuming a succession of fantastic shapes as it passed upwards. "Do you not see them?" she cried—"the great, the glorious ones! they bend from their seats; they smile! see their power! Their majesty! their locks stream, their swords are half drawn! they sheathe them, they lean forward, they extend their arms! they beckon!—I come, I come!" She stretched out her arms with the old familiar gesture and sank back, having breathed her spirit to the tempest which she loved so well.
Guernsey, Eastern Side, with Islands of Herm, Jethou and Sark. Sketched in 1839.
They buried her on the cliffs of Pleinmont, where a cairn long marked her resting-place. Tita was taken to the Vale; all attempts to restore her from the shock which her nerves had received failed till on one sunny morning Hilda's infant was placed on her knees: when the child crowed, and smiled at her, the cloud imperceptibly passed away, never to return. From that time she assumed her regular place in the household.
Haco abandoned his Lihou cell; his rough readiness of resource, unfailing good-humour, and skill in managing men, proved invaluable during the task of the restoration of the broken links of government and society.