Nevertheless, the two lovers found plenty of chances to be alone together; and they would talk, in low voices, of their happiness and of the future, which looked very bright to Zabette, despite all the uncertainties of the sea.
"When we put in on the return from the Banks," said Maxence, "you will be at the wharf to meet me; and that very day we will announce our fiancailles. What an astonishment for everybody!"
"And then," she asked—"after that?"
"After that, I will stay ashore for a while. They can do without me on the Soleil. And at the end of a month"—he told her the rest with a kiss; and surely Zabette had never been so happy in her life.
But for the time being the affair was kept very, very secret, so that people might not get to gossiping. Even those frequent expeditions of Maxence to the Grande Anse were not remarked, for he always came after dusk: and when the fortnight was over and the Soleil once more was ready for sea, the two sweethearts exchanged keepsakes, and he left her.
"I will send you a letter from St. Pierre Miquelon," he said, to cheer her, while he wiped away her tears with a silk handkerchief.
"Do you promise?" she asked.
He promised. Three weeks later the letter arrived; and it told her that his heart was breaking for his dear little Zabette. "Sois fidèle—be true," were the last words. The letter had a perfume of pomade about it, and she carried it all summer in her bodice, taking it out many times a day to scan the loving words again.
In St. Esprit, when the fishing fleet begins to return from the Banks, they keep an old man on the lookout in the church tower; and as soon as he sights a vessel in the offing, he rings the bell.
It was the fourth week in October that year before the bell was heard; and then rapidly, two or three at a time, the schooners came in. First the Dame Blanche, which was always in the lead; then the Êtoile, the Deux Frères, the Lottie B., and the Milo. Every day, morning or afternoon, the bell would ring, and poor Zabette must find some excuse or other to be in town. Down at the wharf there was always gathered an anxious throng, watching for the appearance of the vessel round the Cape. And when she was visible at last, there would be cries of joy from some, and silence on the part of others. Zabette was among the silent. When she saw the happiness about her, tears would swim unbidden in her eyes; but of course she did not lose heart, for still there were several vessels to arrive, and no disasters had been reported by the earlier comers. People noticed her, standing there with expectant mien, and they wondered what it could be that brought her; but it was not their habit to ask questions of the fine highstepper.