Mrs. Corbet shrugged her shoulders.
"Well, well, she must be ensorchelai herself to love him that's such a devil and has so much to do with the Prince of devils. Bah, it was only yesterday I was told of some of Le Mierre's doings! It was Judie Roussel, and she heard it from one of the maids at Orvillière. Just you listen to me, Perrin Corbet, and see what you think of it!—Le Mierre, he wanted a bit of fun, him, and you may depend it wasn't nothing good, so he fetched some of his fine friends to go to the Vale. But they wasn't going to walk, them, no such thing! They makes up their minds they'll use the horse of Le Mierre's neighbour, Langlois. They find a good strong white one in a meadow. What do they do but all jump on his back and be off! Wait a bit! He begins to gallop and to gallop, over hedges and brambles; they couldn't stop him, and and when he gets nearly to the Vale, he throws them off his back in a fine muddy place, and then he's out of sight in a minute. And yet, would you believe it, Langlois swore the white horse had been in the meadow all the time! Of course it was the devil that was the gallopping white horse! And he must be on pretty good terms with Le Mierre to play off such a joke with him, eh, Perrin!"
"I can't say, mother, I'm sure, and, in case even he is good friends with the devil, it's all the worse for the girl that loves him."
"Bah! I've no patience with Ellenor. Le Mierre is a bad man. She knows that as well as you and me do, and yet ... she loves him. Well, well, women are poor fools. But, come, Perrin, isn't there any other girl that would do except Ellenor? There's hundreds nicer than her, and hundreds prettier—specially now."
"If she won't have me, I'll never marry. That's the end of it, mother."
Mrs. Corbet sighed as she heaped up the supper things for Perrin to wash. Such a good, kind son as he was, and to be made a fool of by a self-willed girl like Ellenor!
"It seems I haven't seen Le Mierre for a long time," she went on.
"He's been away ever since his wife's death. It was said everywhere, in the two parishes and even to Saint Pierre Port that he went off because of poor Blaisette. She came again and again to Orvillière like a white sea-gull, crying and flapping her wings against his bedroom window. Her spirit can't rest it seems, because of his wickedness. But, now, I've been told this very day, that he's back to Guernsey: and some there are who say he's been making love to girls in Jersey."
"If only he'd had brought one back as his wife, that foolish Ellenor of yours would have stopped hankering after him!"