This Matheline, whose pearls were worth nothing, was no coward; for she carried out her words, and marched straight up to the wolf, while Bihan stayed behind and cried,—
"Go, go, my friends; don't be afraid! Ah! but for my stiff leg, I would soon finish the wolf, for I am the strongest and bravest."
Round and round the circle galloped the wolf as quickly as a hunted stag; his eyes darted fire, his tongue was hanging from his mouth. Josserande, seeing the danger that threatened him, wept and cried out,—
"O Bretons! is there among you all not one kind soul to defend the widow's son in the hour when he bitterly expiates his sin?"
"Let us alone, godmother," boldly replied Matheline.
And from afar Pol Bihan added: "Don't listen to the old woman; go!"
But another voice was heard in answer to Dame Josserande's appeal, and it said,—
"As last night, we are here!"
Standing in front of Matheline and barring the passage were two ragged beggars, with their wallets, leaning upon their staffs. Josserande recognized the two poor men who had so charitably aided her the night before; and one of them, who had snow-white hair and beard, said,—
"My brethren, why do you interfere in this? God rewards and punishes. This poor man-wolf is not a damned soul, but one expiating a great crime. Leave justice to God, if you do not wish some great misfortune to happen to you."