"You know your character is gone as it is. You're talked of all over the parishes, people say you're mad after me—so, I'd just like to know what difference not meeting me will make."
"I'm decided not to do it."
"Very well, my fine lady, we'll see about that. Ah, you little fool, you've wasted the time and now I must go back, my horse is already up to his knees in water. And how will you get back, I'd like to know!"
"Perrin Corbet is coming to fetch me. Look, here he is."
A quarter of an hour later, all the vraicqueurs were gathered together on the beach to eat their meal in common. Every woman had brought gâche, biscuits and special vraicquing cakes: while the rich farmers had provided a plentiful supply of cider which had been brought down in little barrels swung to the carts. It was a merry time, and Blaisette Le Mierre was looked upon as the queen of the feast. Very few spoke to Ellenor, for she was shunned as a marked character. Only Perrin paid her every attention, and saw that she had everything of the best. As for Dominic, it appeared as if he did not even see her: and people said he had been persecuted and waylaid by Miss Ellenor, for it was evident he did not care a straw for such a girl.
After the meal, some of the men carted away the vraic to the farms over the cliffs, where it would be used to enrich the land. Others, with the help of the women, spread out the sea-weed, which was stored in heaps on the beach to dry. This, later on, would be used for fuel, and would give out its peculiar pungent smell, so dear and memory-stirring to all Channel Islanders.
So the vraicquing festival ended; and that night Ellenor sobbed herself to sleep, a passionate weary creature, too proud to bend to God and turn to goodness.
It was November; and one evening as Perrin Corbet was crossing a hill on his return home from fishing, he thought he heard a low moaning. He stopped and listened. Was it the cry of a sea-gull flying into shelter from the storm which was approaching? Was it, perhaps, the spirit of some drowned fisherman haunting his house? No—it was the voice of a living woman in distress! He waited, and gradually traced the sound to a huge cromlech on the hill. He stopped at the entrance.
"It is I, Perrin Corbet!" he said quietly, "is anyone in trouble?"
"Yes, yes!" answered an eager voice, "come in and speak to me—Ellenor."