CHAPTER I.

NOMINOE.

The burg of Mezlean, situated on the coast of Brittany and at about equal distances from the port of Vannes and from the druid stones of Karnak, was inhabited mainly by Protestant families. Their ancestors, at the time when the Reformation invaded and spread over Brittany, and subsequently during the religious wars of the Sixteenth Century, had quitted Vannes and founded, so to speak, this burg, in which they raised a temple. This temple, destroyed in the reactionary days of the League, of which lower Brittany was the last hot-bed, was replaced by a Catholic church, and was later again rebuilt after the promulgation of the Edict of Nantes by Henry IV. Upon that event, and for a long time after, the reformers of Mezlean were not disturbed in the exercise of their faith. The revival of the spirit of intolerance, however, which later caused the revocation of the Edict of Nantes by Louis XIV, speedily manifested itself in Brittany also, and the Bishop of Vannes claimed the right of restoring the temple of Mezlean to the Catholic cult. In pursuit of the Bishop's designs, a thousand difficulties were thrown in the path of, and a thousand vexations inflicted upon, the Protestants of the burg. The rectors and curates of the neighboring Catholic parishes took the hint, and rekindled religious animosities among their flocks by pointing at their neighbors of Mezlean as stiff-necked heretics.

One day, towards the end of the month of May, in the year 1673, the burg of Mezlean was, since early dawn, in great bustle over the preparations for a wedding. The curious blocked the neighborhood of the shop of Paskou the Long, so nicknamed for his thinness and tall stature. Paskou the Long was a tailor by trade, besides being renowned for miles around as a poet. His songs and plaintive love ditties caused him always to be chosen for the function of "Baz-valan," or messenger of love, to the girls of the place. Thanks to his good-heartedness, his witty sallies and his irresistible humor, Paskou the Long was greatly beloved by the people of Mezlean. The man's personal qualities, coupled with his poetic talents, rendered him a matchless "Baz-valan." When, mounted upon a white horse with braided mane gaily decked in ribbons, Paskou the Long departed to negotiate some marriage, holding in his hands the symbolic twig of broom in bloom, the emblem of love and unity, the lover was almost certain to see the "Baz-valan" return the bearer of happy tidings, unless, on his outward trip, he encountered a magpie, or saw a crow perched upon a tree--sinister auguries that would cause Paskou the Long to turn back his horse's head. If, on the contrary, a turtle dove, nestled among the leaves, cooed on the passage of the messenger of love, the Baz-valan felt certain of the success of his mission. It was a treat to hear him sing the praises of his client, set into relief the good points of the swain's personal appearance, laud his character, enumerate the cattle in his stables, the bushels of garnered wheat in his granary, readily and gaily meet the objections of the parents of the _demanded girl_, in short, exhibit his matchless skill at cheering the most morose, or at proving to the most incredulous that his client would be the Phoenix of all husbands.

On that particular day, the curious of the burg of Mezlean thronged around the door of Paskou the Long's house, which was contiguous to an inn, the yard and outlying stables of which were crowded with wagons hitched to the oxen or horses of the peasants who were to join the nuptial procession charged with fetching the bride from her paternal house, about a league away. The bridegroom, Nominoe Lebrenn, and his father, Salaun Lebrenn, were in an upper chamber of Paskou the Long's house. Nominoe seemed to be a prey to some secret anxiety. His pale and haggard face bore the stamp of concentrated grief. Seated near a table with his elbow resting upon it, he reclined his care-worn forehead upon his hand. Standing beside his son, Salaun contemplated him with amazement, and said to him considerately: "Verily, my son, I can hardly believe that I heard you rightly. What! our relatives, our friends, all assembled in the neighboring house, are waiting to join you in the procession to your cousin Tina's house, and to bring her to Mezlean where your wedding is to be celebrated in the temple--and all of a sudden, without any reason therefor, you appear to waver before this marriage that has been decided and agreed upon for so long a time!"

"Father," answered Nominoe with an effort, "I am not irrevocably engaged until the Baz-valan has gone and taken my betrothed from her house--not until after that last ceremony has been performed, is it forbidden to me unless I am ready to be taken for a faithless man, heartless and without honor, to retract my word."

Salaun listened to his son with increased amazement and replied: "Am I awake, or am I dreaming? Is not this union, so much desired by your mother's brother and me, and planned, I may say, since your and Tina's birth--is it not also the constant aspiration of you two? Did you not exchange rings shortly after our voyage to The Hague? Finally, was it not in concert with your uncle, his daughter and yourself, that recently, upon our return from our cruise along the coasts of Saintonge and Guyenne, the day for your marriage was fixed? And, now, you mean to pretend that, in the absence of an insignificant formality, you would still be free to break an engagement that you voluntarily accepted and remained true to for so many years! I seek in vain for the cause of this change, an inconceivable change, a change that is so unexpected!"

Nominoe answered without raising his eyes to his father: "I was weak; I failed in sincerity; but, I still can draw back before a fatal final step. Brought up with Tina, habituated to see in her the future companion of my life, I believed I loved her. I mistook for that sentiment the fraternal affection that I entertained for her since childhood. But little by little the truth dawned upon my heart, and I discovered that Tina was not and never could be aught to me but a sister. Unfortunately I did not have the courage to destroy the poor girl's illusion. I recoiled before the thought of the grief that the rupture of this alliance between our two families would cause you and my uncle. I admit it--I recoiled before the declaration that, however tardily, I now feel forced to make, at last. Now, when the hour is approached in which I was to unite my fate with Tina's, I interrogate myself with the inexorable severity of a judge, and I declare to you, father, that I fear, were I to marry Tina, I could not render her as happy as she deserves to be. Finally, there is another grave reason for my decision not to contract this union: At any moment now, the insurrection, that has so long been brewing in Brittany, may break out with fury. I hold it would be an act of imprudence on my part to wed Tina on the eve of a civil war, in which I may be killed. Looked at from any side we choose, it is preferable that the wedding do not take place."

The face of Salaun Lebrenn grew sadder and more serious. His son's embarrassment, and the weakness of the reasons that he adduced to justify his sudden change, clearly betrayed the fact that the young man was but beating about for pretexts for a rupture, the real reason for which he sought to conceal.

"My son," replied Salaun in a firm and grave tone, "this is the first time in your life, I think, that you have lowered yourself before me by resorting to a ruse, to equivocation, and even to untruth! You dare not look me in the face, and you stammer out your pretended reasons for a rupture that you feel ashamed of!"

And the father, taking pity upon his son's prostration, softened the severity of his tone by adding: "Nominoe, I shall now address myself to your loyalty of heart. I wish to believe, I do believe that your scruples, so tardily expressed, are sincere. You fear you may not render Tina as happy as the good girl deserves. You fear to plunge her into mortal anxiety for your life, perhaps into the mourning of widowhood, should the insurrection of Brittany break out to-morrow. To all that my answer is: You would have to be a man of selfish heart before I could believe you capable of rendering unhappy a creature who loves you with all her heart and soul. But you are what you are. Now, then, I swear to God, whatever the nature may be of your affection for your wife, she will have nothing for which to envy the happiest of wives. My conviction on that head is complete, absolute. Do you imagine that, if I believed otherwise, I would fail to be the first to wish, in fact, to order you, however late the hour, to break off the match? No, no, my son, I have more confidence in you than you seem to have in yourself. There, then, remains this one objection--the imminence of an uprising in which we would take part, and, consequently, Tina's anxiety for your safety. As to that, you are right, my son; your apprehensions are well founded; but the sorrows that you foresee for your bride are not pressing, while, on the other hand, I see a certain sentence of death for the poor girl in your refusal to marry her."

"Great God!" exclaimed Nominoe with a shudder, unable to prevent himself from sharing his father's fears.

"Listen to me. At this very hour that I am speaking to you, Tina, surrounded by her girl companions, her head decked with the bridal ribbons, is awaiting you from minute to minute, with her eyes upon the Mezlean road, her heart beating with joy and tender impatience. Instead of the nuptial procession, preceded by the radiant Baz-valan holding in his hand the twig of broom in bloom, she is to see him from a distance on the road, coming to her sad, alone and with the twig broken. The poor girl will understand the symbol, the ruin of her hopes. She will feel herself deserted, considered by you unworthy of being your wife. She will not complain. Not a single reproach will escape her lips. She will even endeavor to appease her father's indignation. She will say to him: 'Nominoe is master of his own heart; he has loved me; he loves me no more; I was his promised wife, but am not to be his wedded wife. What did I do to be deserted? I know not, and am resigned. May he be happy. As children we were put to sleep in the same cradle. He always was the friend of my youth. My only wish is that he may be happy. It is my last wish!' And as she utters these words," Salaun proceeded to say in a shaken voice, "tears will wet the pale and sweet countenance of Tina. In silence the poor girl will untie her bridal ribbons, will put off her wedding robes, and returning to her household work, will resume her distaff--all without expressing one bitter word. She will suffer without complaining. The period of her sufferings will be more or less prolonged, and then," added Salaun, tears beginning to interfere with his speech, "and then, at the end of this month, perhaps before the end of this week, the people of the burg of Mezlean will say: 'You know little Tina, the daughter of Tankeru the blacksmith? Well, she died!'"

At these last words, pronounced by Salaun with poignant simplicity, Nominoe could no longer hold back his tears. The natural kindness of his heart triumphed over his indecision, and he cried:

"Oh, father! You are right. My desertion of her would cause Tina's death! I shall not be guilty of the murder. You shall live, dear child! You shall live! Hap what hap may, I shall make you happy. Let my destiny be fulfilled!"

"And you also will be happy!" replied Salaun with joy, as he took his son in his arms. "Come, dear boy! My insistence is the presentiment of the bliss that awaits you two. You are worthy the one of the other. You will both be happy, dear children!"

Saying this, Salaun ran to the door that opened upon the staircase of the tailor's shop, opened it and called down from the banister: "To horse, Paskou the Long! To horse, joyful Baz-valan! Call our relatives and friends! Worthy herald of nuptial ceremonies, take your gay sprig of broom in bloom, and to horse!"

"It is done!" said Nominoe to himself while his father was calling to the Baz-valan. "Adieu, insane hopes! Adieu, deceitful, senseless visions, yet so dear to my heart! Adieu, gilded dream, a dream as distant from reality as heaven is from the pit! This morning, when I learned of the arrival of Mademoiselle Plouernel at Mezlean, I intended to break off this match. Poor fool! Return to your senses, to earth! Your marriage will put an end to the visions that led your mind astray!"

"Let us depart, my son! Make haste! Poor Tina must have begun to feel uneasy," observed Salaun to his son. "All our relatives and friends are waiting for us. Quick, to horse!"

A moment later the nuptial procession, headed by the Baz-valan and Nominoe, left the burg of Mezlean and took the road to the house of Tankeru the blacksmith, the father of Tina, the bride.