he sudden appearance of Ellenor at the Grand Plough supper was talked of all over the countryside; and the story of it soon penetrated to Les Casquets Cottage. Mrs. Cartier made her usual futile remark that "one never knew what the girl would do next," and whined and canted about the matter for days together. Jean was very angry at Ellenor's want of proper pride in thrusting herself where she was not considered good enough to enter; but neither parent guessed at the real state of affairs.

Le Mierre managed to waylay Ellenor some days after La Grand' Querrue, and a few careless kisses and slighting remarks of Blaisette bound the girl of the cottage closer to him than ever. As for Dominic, he told himself that he could not and would not give up the stolen meetings with Ellenor. They were far too exciting, for the girl was one to set a man on fire, with her passionate demonstrations of love, and her wild, untamed nature. Thus the Spring passed, and the long days of Summer gladdened workers and idlers alike.

It was June, and Perrin Corbet was busy day and night at the fishing. He and Cartier put away a good bit of money, but they never entrusted it to safer keeping than certain old purses locked up in their cottage homes. Each man toiled, not to save merely, but to keep a sum of money put by for those he cared for. If Perrin had hopes of nearer relationship to Cartier, he was doomed to disappointment. He had begun to court Ellenor persistently, and she, as persistently, shunned him.

One evening, as he was returning from Rocquaine Bay after a long day's fishing, he met Ellenor in a shady lane. She had been milking and carried on her arm the large shining can which it was her pride to keep like silver.

"What's the matter, Ellenor?" he said at once, "you look as white as death! Is it you are ill?"

She laughed mockingly.

"Have you ever known me to be ill! Surely this warm weather is enough to make one look white! And far from being ill, I am much amused at what I have seen just now. Will I tell you about it?"

"My good, yes, tell me, I am only too pleased if you talk to me. Shall we go up to Les Casquets together? I was going there to see your father."

As they walked side by side she began to speak rapidly.

"Well, this amusing thing I have seen! Listen! I was at the top of the valley that leads to OrvilliÈre Farm this morning when, all at once, I saw a cart coming along. In it was a big chest made of oak and carved all over; and besides there was a box covered with leather and all over brass nails. Of course one knew at once what that meant! In the chest and in the box there was the linen for the house of some woman who was soon to be married, and it was being taken to the house of the bridegroom. Sure enough, it seems I was right, for tied to the cart behind was the cow the father of the bride would give! Then, close to the cart, on the side, there was a girl I knew. She was the nearest woman relation of Blaisette Simon, and she was carrying a looking glass. I knew what all those things meant—a marriage soon to take place. So I looked again, and I saw that the man who was leading the cart was Dominic Le Mierre, the master of OrvilliÈre, and he turned down the hill that leads to the farm. He didn't see me—him—he was chatting and laughing with the girl cousin of Blaisette, and telling her not to let the looking glass fall, or that would be bad luck. Now, Perrin Corbet, tell me, what do you think all that means?"

She breathed quickly and turned her face away from him.

"Means!" echoed the fisherman, "of course it means only one thing, that there will soon be a wedding, that the bride will be Blaisette Simon and the bridegroom will be Dominic Le Mierre. But why do you ask me? You said you knew yourself what it meant when you saw the chest in the cart!"

"Bah, don't be so stupid and tease me like that! There might be some mistake. And what do I care if she does marry him?"

"I wonder you haven't heard it talked of before, Ellenor, for all Torteval has said long ago they would make a match."

"Well, let people chat as much as they like! He don't care for her, that I know. It's only her money he's after. She is a silly little fool, all pink and white and yellow hair."

"Perhaps! But all we men can see that she is a very pretty girl. And how do you know he don't care for her, eh?"

"How dare you to question me like this! Never mind how I know, but I do."

"Well, my girl, I can tell you all about it. It would seem that Le Mierre has been making a fool of you. All Torteval knows it. And there's times and times I've seen you together; and him making love to you."

"You're a sneak and a liar! So you've spied on us, Perrin Corbet, have you?"

The fisherman was absolutely unmoved by her rudeness. His love was beyond and above any feeling of even proper pride.

"I've not spied on you at all, but it wasn't my fault if you didn't see me; and you never gave me a chance of telling you all this before. He's sure and certain to marry Blaisette. It's as good as if she was his wife now you've seen the cart taking the linen to OrvilliÈre. Don't be vexed with me. It's for your good I speak. You know how I love you, Ellenor."

"Bah, who cares for your love! I was a fool to tell you the amusing thing I've seen. And I tell you, once more, he don't love Blaisette Simon."

"Well, have it your own way! I've nothing more to say about the marriage. But I've a mind to go to warn Blaisette about her husband to be."

Ellenor turned on Perrin a look of wild terror and anger.

"If I could, I'd kill you, because I hate you so! You would go to tell Blaisette that you've seen me and him together!"

"I would do no such thing. But I would wish to warn her that Dominic is mixed up with smugglers."

A dead silence was at last broken by Ellenor's husky words.

"How do you know he's mixed up with smugglers?"

"Listen to my tale this time," he said, "but it isn't at all amusing. One night I was off the point of the cliffs below the Haunted House. I was in my boat, fishing for bream. It was full moon, but me and my boat were in shadow. None could see us. By and bye—I saw a long, narrow boat shoot out from a cave not far off from me. In it were three or four black looking foreigners. They pushed their boat close under the cliffs and waited, full an hour. Then, by and bye, down came Le Mierre and another man with bundles of silk, or what looked like it ... and the fellow in the boat got up and caught hold of the bundles and went off with them like the very devil. Le Mierre and his man were up the cliff again before I could whistle to them that I was by. I've meant to tell Le Mierre some day; and it seems to me now's the time for him and his girl to know."

"And what good would that be, I'd like to be told! He'd only do his best to pay you out for being a sneak."

"I've thought, too, of letting the constables of the parish know of it," pursued Corbet quietly.

"And a fine row there'd be! Do you think you, a poor fisherman, would be believed when you went to tell tales of him, a rich farmer! Bah, you must be mad, Perrin Corbet."

Now the fisherman had all the island reverence for his betters. He really spoke to ease his mind; but he was very far from longing to deliver up Dominic to justice, in spite of the pricking of his conscience, which whispered to him that he was like an accomplice in a crime if he did not tell of the smuggling business. He was silent now, and Ellenor began to speak again.

"If you take my advice you won't meddle with Monsieur Le Mierre at all. Are you forgetting that his family has always been well known for its wizards and witches? Bah, Perrin, have you so soon forgotten how the grandfather of Monsieur used to throw black powder on people if they offended him, and then they would be taken ill all of a sudden? And over and over again, at the Sabbat des Sorciers of a Friday night on CatiÔroc Hill, the very mother of Dominic has been seen, dancing with all the rest!"

Perrin stopped short and whistled.

"Well, you won't hardly believe me, but I had quite forgotten! Of course now I remember all you say. No, no, I can't meddle with him. His whole family has always been known to have dealings with the devil. Well, here we are to Les Casquets, let's go in and perhaps your mother will give me a cup of tea."

"Go in by yourself, if you like! As for me, I'm off, À bientÔt, Perrin!"

Ellenor walked slowly in the direction which would lead her furthest away from the cottage. She wound in and out of low, prickly gorze bushes covering the moorland till she reached Pleinmont Point, then she ran down a gently sloping grass valley till she got to the sea. She had an appointment with Dominic at Pezerie, the bottom of the valley which skirted the rocky coast. It was blowing hard, and yet a dense mist hung over the sea. Once, like a ghost, a boat with a velvety brown sail, flitted across the Pezerie outlook. A bell tolled from Hanois Lighthouse.

Ellenor shivered, and cruel forebodings took hold of her. Then, all at once, it was brilliant sunshine in her heart, for Dominic came running down the valley and clasped her in his arms. With sobs and passionate words of reproach and love, she asked him if it was true he was going to marry Blaisette.

"Little silly child!" he said, with a laugh, "of course it is not true! There was no thought of my marriage when I led the cart. I was just helping the cousin of Blaisette; one does not always exactly keep to old customs."

Then she told him of Perrin and the smuggling; and he called her a clever garce for stopping Corbet's mouth. He was in the gayest and most fascinating of moods, and Ellenor was in a heaven of joy, for his caresses and words had never before been so tender. It was late before they parted. He could not see her again for a few days, he explained, as he had special business on hand.

The next day, when Ellenor was knitting outside Les Casquets, a messenger arrived from OrvilliÈre. He brought an invitation to Jean Cartier and to his wife and daughter, to attend the wedding of Monsieur Dominic Le Mierre and Mademoiselle Blaisette Simon.

She stood up straight and tall to receive the blow. She did not flinch. Only her face was grey as ashes; and her large eyes looked like those of a hunted animal, as she accepted the invitation for her parents and herself.

The wedding was fixed for that day week, and all the parish, indeed the two parishes of Saint Pierre du Bois and Torteval, were wild with excitement. Hundreds of people were invited; and for days before the ceremony the water lanes and marshes were visited by bands of young people eager to gather the gllajeurs, or wild marsh iris, to strew before the bride and bridegroom when they would leave the church.

It was a lovely morning when Dominic stood before the altar in the old church of Saint Pierre du Bois and vowed to love and cherish fair Blaisette, a picture of sweet gentleness, and pretty coquetry in her fair white bridal gown. But the sun was black and the sky was lead to Ellenor, as she watched the bride and bridegroom walk down the aisle together, man and wife, arm in arm. She could have touched the bride, so close she stood to her as she passed; and Dominic's eyes fell upon her with a stony stare. For a maddening moment, Ellenor thought she would die. Then, her proud spirit re-asserted itself. She would go through the day carrying aloft her banner of self-respect. She would march to battle as if to the sound of music. As she made this resolution, a murmur of almost horror reached her from outside the church. She hastened to the porch in time to see that Blaisette was crying.

"What is it?" she whispered to Perrin Corbet, who, all unnoticed, had kept close to her during the ceremony.

"It's that she has remembered suddenly she came to the church a different way from what she does on Sundays. And of course we know it's dreadful bad luck, poor girl! It's certain there'll be something happen before the year is out."

A gleam of joy lit up Ellenor's pale face.

"Come along, Perrin, let's be off to OrvilliÈre—there's not too much time before dinner."

Corbet looked at her doubtfully.

"But, aren't you going to put on a different gown?"

"And, pray, impudant, why, I'd like to know! This one is silk, and what more do you want?"

"It's the colour I don't like! Scarlet for a day like this! You ought to be in white."

But Ellenor only laughed at him. Not she give up her scarlet gown made of silk that Dominic had given her one night in the Haunted House!

OrvilliÈre Farm was gay, outside and in, with garlands and crowns of flowers; and in the kitchen and in the field beside the house, tables were laid for the customary dinner of roast beef and mutton, plum pudding and gÂche À corÎnthe. Cider flowed liberally; and, after dinner, the guests were in fitting mood for the games that followed till tea-time. Then all the evening long, dancing waxed fast and furious, with intervals for songs. Dominic delighted the company by giving Ellenor a sounding kiss when she chose him for her partner in—

and all the company then shouted in chorus—

But it is certain Ellenor would not have dared to choose the bridegroom had he not been half drunk. Perrin Corbet, a sober man himself, looked on in disgust; and glanced at Blaisette to see how she took it. But she was giggling as usual, and drinking mulled wine from one of the new wedding cups.

At five in the morning the wedding party broke up; and all the guests said that Ellenor Cartier was a shameless girl. Perrin heard and clenched his fist.