"Father, I shall be sixteen years old next vintage in the country of Nantes—will you not take me with you?"
"Keep still, Yvon! Make not such requests. They frighten me," cried the boy's mother.
"Roselyk, dear sister, do not my wife's words remind you of our mother scolding our brother Karadeucq because he wished to see the Korrigans? She used to say: 'Hold your tongue, bad boy!' "
"Alas, brother, all mothers' hearts are alike."
"Father, I hear steps outside—it must be old Gildas. He promised to come this evening and teach us a new chant that he learned from a traveling tailor. Yes, it is he! Good evening, old Gildas!"
"Good evening, my boy; good evening to all."
"Shut the door, old Gildas. The air is cold; come near the fire."
"Kervan, I am not alone. A stranger accompanies me. He knocked at my door and asked for the house where Kervan, the son of Jocelyn, dwells. The traveler comes from Vannes, and even further. He wishes to see you."
"Why does he not step in?"
"He is shaking off the snow that covers him from head to foot."