"What does that package contain?"
"It contains the account of our love, which we may both be proud of. It is the narrative of what has happened to us, dear Bertha."
"And for whom do you destine that account?"
"For the descendants of the Lebrenn family," answered Nominoë, reading from one of the pages of his manuscript:
"Oh, sons of Joel—you who some day will read these lines traced by me, Nominoë Lebrenn, at this supreme hour, at the manor of Mezlean, under the eyes of Bertha of Plouernel—fail not to remember that angel of goodness and of concord, and, in her name, forget, pardon the injuries that her family has done to ours. Be merciful! Neither vengeance nor reprisals!"
"Noble heart!" answered Bertha with eyes moist with tears, and contemplating Nominoë with an expression of boundless love. "Accordingly, you are resolved, like myself, firmly resolved, to leave this sad earth for another dwelling place?"
"Even if an infamous death, from which only voluntary death could snatch me, did not await me to-morrow, my most ardent wish would be to accompany you, Bertha, upon this mysterious voyage."
"But to whom are you going to deliver the story of your life? To your father's brother, Gildas Lebrenn, the leasehold farmer of Karnak?"
"We dug the grave of Gildas, who was butchered by the King's soldiers on the staircase of the Castle of Plouernel."
"Will you then bequeath it to the father of your bride, your mother's brother?"