"That is to say, a fool and a brute. Then I wonder no more, my fine fellow, that you"re a regular inhabitant of the four bishoprics, for to you the whole proverb belongs. [31] But what are you in such haste about to-day?"
"I am going to fetch Wilherm Postik," replied the phantom as he pa.s.sed on.
The profligate laughed aloud, and went on his way. As he came up to the little sloe-hedge leading to the washing-ground, he saw two white females hanging linen on the bushes.
"On my life," said he, "here are some damsels not much afraid of the night-dews! What are you about here at this time, my little doves?"
"We wash, we dry, we sew!" replied the two women both at once.
"But what?" asked the young man.
"The winding-sheet of one that yet walks and speaks."
"A corpse! Pardieu! Tell me his name."
"Wilherm Postik."
Louder than before laughed Wilherm, and went down the little rugged path.
But as he went on he heard more and more distinctly the beetle of the spectre laundresses striking on the douez [32] stones, and ere long they themselves were to be seen, beating at their death-shrouds, and chanting the sorrowful refrain:
"If no good soul our hands will stay, We must toil till judgment-day; In stormy wind, or clear moonlight, We must wash the death-shroud white."
As soon as they perceived this boon companion, they all rushed forward with loud cries, offering each her winding-sheet, that he might help them to wring out the water.
"Amongst friends we must not scruple to do a good turn," replied Wilherm gaily; "but one at a time, my pretty laundresses, a man has but two hands."
So laying down his walking-stick, he took the end of the shroud offered by one of the ghosts, taking care to wring the same way that she did; for he had heard of old that this was the only way to escape being shivered to atoms.
But whilst they thus wrung the winding-sheet, behold, the other spectres surrounded Wilherm, who recognised amongst them his aunt, his wife, his mother, and his sisters, who cried aloud,
"A thousand curses upon him who leaves his own flesh and blood to suffer torments! A thousand curses!"
And they shook their streaming locks, and whirled aloft their snow-white beetles; while from all the douez of the valley, along the hedgerows, and floating over the commons far and wide, there came the sound of ghostly voices echoing the same cry,
"A thousand curses! a thousand curses!"
Wilherm, beside himself with terror, felt his hair stand up on end, and, forgetting in his confusion the precaution hitherto observed, he began to wring the contrary way. In the same instant the winding-sheet grasped his hands as in a vice, and he fell, brayed by the iron arms of the spectre laundress.
A young girl of Henvik, named Fantik-ar-Fur, pa.s.sing at daybreak near the douez, saw Wilherm stretched upon the blue stones. Thinking that he had lain down there to sleep whilst tipsy, the child drew near to wake him with a sprig of broom; but finding he remained motionless, she took fright and ran to the village to tell the news.
A number of the inhabitants came with the cure, the s.e.xton, and the notary, who was mayor of the place. The body was taken up, placed on a wagon, and drawn home by oxen; but the blessed candles that were lighted continually went out, a token of the fearful fate that had overtaken Wilherm Postik.
So his body was deposited outside the church-yard walls, in the resting-place of dogs and reprobates.
The belief in spectre laundresses is universal in Brittany.
ROBIN REDBREAST.
Long, long ago, ere the acorns were sown which have since furnished timber for the oldest vessels of the port of Brest, there lived in the parish of Guirek a poor widow called Ninorc"h Madek. Her father, who was very wealthy and of n.o.ble race, had left at his death a manor-house, with a farm, a mill, and a forge, twelve horses and twice as many oxen, twelve cows and ten times as many sheep, to say nothing of corn and flax.
But Ninorc"h was a helpless widow, and her brothers took the whole for themselves. Perrik, the eldest, kept the house, the farm, and the horses; Fanche, the second, took the mill and the cows; whilst the third, whose name was Riwal, had the oxen, the forge, and the sheep. Nothing was left for Ninorc"h but a doorless shed on the open heath, which had served to shelter the sick cattle.
However, as she was getting together her little matter of furniture, in order to take possession of her new abode, Fanche pretended to take pity upon her, and said,
"Come, I will deal with you like a brother and a Christian. Here is a black cow; she has never come to much good, and, indeed, gives scarce milk enough to feed a new-born babe; but you may take her with you, if you will, and May-flower can look after her upon the common."
May-flower [33] was the widow"s daughter, now in her eleventh year, and had been called after the colourless blossom of the thickets from her unusually pale complexion.
So Ninorc"h went away with her pallid little girl, who led the poor lean cow by an old cord, and she sent them out upon the common together.
There May-flower stayed all day, watching her black cow, which with much ado contrived to pick a little gra.s.s between the stones. She spent her time in making little crosses with blossoms of the broom, [34] or in repeating aloud her Rosary and her favourite hymns.
One day, as she was singing the "Ave Maris Stella," as she had heard it at Vespers in the church of Guirek, all at once she noticed a little bird perched upon one of the flower-crosses she had set in the earth. He was warbling sweetly, and turned his head from side to side, looking at her as if he longed to speak. Not a little surprised, she gently drew near and listened, but without being able to distinguish any meaning in his song. In vain he sang louder, flapped his wings, and fluttered about before May-flower. Not a whit the wiser was she for all this; and yet such pleasure did she take in watching and listening to him, that night came on without her being able to think of any thing else. At last the bird flew away; and when she looked up to see what had become of him, she saw the stars twinkling in the sky.
With all speed she started off to look for her cow, but to her dismay it was nowhere to be found upon the common. In vain she called aloud, in vain she beat the bushes, in vain she went down into each hollow where the rainwater had formed a pool. At last she heard her mother"s voice, calling her, as if some great misfortune had happened. All in a fright, she ran up to her, and there, at the edge of the heath, on the way homeward, she found the widow beside all that remained of the poor cow,--her horns, that is, and her bones, the latter well picked by the wolves, which had sallied forth from the neighbouring woods and made a meal of her.
At this sight May-flower felt her blood run cold. She burst into tears, for she loved the black cow she had tended so long, and falling on her knees exclaimed,
"Blessed Virgin, why did you not let me see the wolf? I would have scared him away with the sign of the cross; I would have repeated the charm that is taught to shepherd-boys who keep their flocks upon the mountains,--
"Art thou wolf, St. Herve shend [35] thee!
Art thou Satan, G.o.d defend me!"" [36]
The widow, who was a very saint for piety and resignation, seeing the sorrow of the little girl, sought to comfort her, saying,
"It is not well to weep for the cow as for a fellow-creature, my poor child; if the wolves and wicked men conspire against us, the Lord G.o.d will be on our side. Come, then, help me up with my bundle of heath, and let us go home."
May-flower did as she said, but sighed at every step, and the big tears trickled down her cheeks.
"My poor cow!" said she to herself, "my poor, good, gentle cow! and just, too, as she was beginning to fatten a little."
The little girl had no heart for supper, and many times awakened in the night, fancying that she heard the black cow lowing at the door. With very restlessness she rose before the dawn, and ran out upon the common, barefooted and but half-dressed. There, at the selfsame spot, appeared the little bird again, perched as before on her broom-flower cross. Again he sang, and seemed to call her. But, alas, she was as little able as on the preceding evening to understand him, and was turning away in vexation, when she thought she saw a piece of gold glittering on the ground. To try what it really was, she moved it with her foot; but, lo, it was the gold-herb; and no sooner had she touched it than she distinctly understood the language of the little bird, [37] saying in his warbling,
"May-flower, I wish thee well. May-flower, listen to me."