Where Deep Seas Moan

by E. Gallienne Robin

"Go in by yourself, if you like! As for me, I'm off, à bientôt, Perrin!"

Ellenor walked slowly in the direction which would lead her furthest away from the cottage. She wound in and out of low, prickly gorze bushes covering the moorland till she reached Pleinmont Point, then she ran down a gently sloping grass valley till she got to the sea. She had an appointment with Dominic at Pezerie, the bottom of the valley which skirted the rocky coast. It was blowing hard, and yet a dense mist hung over the sea. Once, like a ghost, a boat with a velvety brown sail, flitted across the Pezerie outlook. A bell tolled from Hanois Lighthouse.

Ellenor shivered, and cruel forebodings took hold of her. Then, all at once, it was brilliant sunshine in her heart, for Dominic came running down the valley and clasped her in his arms. With sobs and passionate words of reproach and love, she asked him if it was true he was going to marry Blaisette.

"Little silly child!" he said, with a laugh, "of course it is not true! There was no thought of my marriage when I led the cart. I was just helping the cousin of Blaisette; one does not always exactly keep to old customs."

Then she told him of Perrin and the smuggling; and he called her a clever garce for stopping Corbet's mouth. He was in the gayest and most fascinating of moods, and Ellenor was in a heaven of joy, for his caresses and words had never before been so tender. It was late before they parted. He could not see her again for a few days, he explained, as he had special business on hand.

The next day, when Ellenor was knitting outside Les Casquets, a messenger arrived from Orvillière. He brought an invitation to Jean Cartier and to his wife and daughter, to attend the wedding of Monsieur Dominic Le Mierre and Mademoiselle Blaisette Simon.

She stood up straight and tall to receive the blow. She did not flinch. Only her face was grey as ashes; and her large eyes looked like those of a hunted animal, as she accepted the invitation for her parents and herself.

The wedding was fixed for that day week, and all the parish, indeed the two parishes of Saint Pierre du Bois and Torteval, were wild with excitement. Hundreds of people were invited; and for days before the ceremony the water lanes and marshes were visited by bands of young people eager to gather the gllajeurs, or wild marsh iris, to strew before the bride and bridegroom when they would leave the church.

It was a lovely morning when Dominic stood before the altar in the old church of Saint Pierre du Bois and vowed to love and cherish fair Blaisette, a picture of sweet gentleness, and pretty coquetry in her fair white bridal gown. But the sun was black and the sky was lead to Ellenor, as she watched the bride and bridegroom walk down the aisle together, man and wife, arm in arm. She could have touched the bride, so close she stood to her as she passed; and Dominic's eyes fell upon her with a stony stare. For a maddening moment, Ellenor thought she would die. Then, her proud spirit re-asserted itself. She would go through the day carrying aloft her banner of self-respect. She would march to battle as if to the sound of music. As she made this resolution, a murmur of almost horror reached her from outside the church. She hastened to the porch in time to see that Blaisette was crying.