Summer advanced, and, at the end of August, with the first autumnalmists, the Icelanders came home.

　　For the last three months the two lone women had lived together atPloubazlanec in the Moan's cottage. Gaud filled a daughter's place inthe poor birthplace of so many dead sailors. She had sent hither allthat remained from the sale of her father's house; her grand bed inthe town fashion, and her fine, different coloured dresses. She hadmade herself a plainer black dress, and like old Yvonne, wore amourning cap, of thick white muslin, adorned merely with simpleplaits. Every day she went out sewing at the houses of the rich peoplein the town, and returned every evening without being detained on herway home by any sweetheart. She had remained as proud as ever, and wasstill respected as a fine lady; and as the lads bade her good-night,they always raised a hand to their caps.

　　Through the sweet evening twilight, she walked home from Paimpol, allalong the cliff road inhaling the fresh, comforting sea air. Constantsitting at needlework had not deformed her like many others, who arealways bent in two over their work--and she drew up her beautifulsupple form perfectly erect in looking over the sea, fairly across towhere Yann was it seemed.

　　The same road led to his home. Had she walked on much farther, towardsa well-known rocky windswept nook, she would come to that hamlet ofPors-Even, where the trees, covered with gray moss, grew crampedlybetween the stones, and are slanted over lowly by the western gales.

　　Perhaps she might never more return there, although it was only aleague away; but once in her lifetime she had been there, and that wasenough to cast a charm over the whole road; and, besides, Yann wouldcertainly often pass that way, and she could fancy seeing him upon thebare moor, stepping between the stumpy reeds.

　　She loved the whole region of Ploubazlanec, and was almost happy thatfate had driven her there; she never could have become resigned tolive in any other place.

　　Towards this end of August, a southern warmth, diffusing languor,rises and spreads towards the north, with luminous afterglows andstray rays from a distant sun, which float over the Breton seas. Oftenthe air is calm and pellucid, without a single cloud on high.

　　At the hour of Gaud's return journey, all things had already begun tofade in the nightfall, and become fused into close, compact groups.

　　Here and there a clump of reeds strove to make way between stones,like a battle-torn flag; in a hollow, a cluster of gnarled treesformed a dark mass, or else some straw-thatched hamlet indented themoor. At the cross-roads the images of Christ on the cross, whichwatch over and protect the country, stretched out their black arms ontheir supports like real men in torture; in the distance the Channelappeared fair and calm, one vast golden mirror, under the alreadydarkened sky and shade-laden horizon.

　　In this country even the calm fine weather was a melancholy thing;notwithstanding, a vague uneasiness seemed to hover about; a palpabledread emanating from the sea to which so many lives are intrusted, andwhose everlasting threat only slumbered.

　　Gaud sauntered along as in a dream, and never found the way longenough. The briny smell of the shore, and a sweet odour of floweretsgrowing along the cliffs amid thorny bushes, perfumed the air. Had itnot been for Granny Yvonne waiting for her at home, she would haveloitered along the reed-strewn paths, like the beautiful ladies instories, who dream away the summer evenings in their fine parks.

　　Many thoughts of her early childhood came back to her as she passedthrough the country; but they seemed so effaced and far away now,eclipsed by her love looming up between.

　　In spite of all, she went on thinking of Yann as engaged in a degree--a restless, scornful betrothed, whom she never would really have, butto whom she persisted in being faithful in mind, without speakingabout it to any one. For the time, she was happy to know that he wasoff Iceland; for there, at least, the sea would keep him lonely in herdeep cloisters, and he would belong to no other woman.

　　True, he would return one of these days, but she looked upon thatreturn more calmly than before. She instinctively understood that herpoverty would not be a reason for him to despise her; for he was notas other men. Moreover, the death of poor Sylvestre would draw themcloser together. Upon his return,............