"Be at your ease, but, by heaven! the men of the royal fisc, when they pounce upon our poor houses, in pursuit of taxes and imposts, even they are not skilful as you in rummaging a dwelling from the cellar to the garret. I shall go look again, and see whether, by accident, your dove has fled into my cellar."
For a third time Madok the Brotaer re-entered the bride"s house, whence he soon again emerged holding by the hand a very old and venerable looking woman, and said: "Into my cellar I went; I did not see your dove there. But I did find a good old fruit," pointing to the old grandmother, "that was gathered long, very long ago. Despite its wrinkles, however, it has preserved its taste and flavor. Good fruit gains with time. I offer it to you for your pigeon."
"Certes, my friend, the wrinkles of good fruit do far from hurt its quality. Always nourishing and wholesome, such fruit ever seems more precious, and sweeter, when, winter having come, the summer fruits are gone. But, alas! my pigeon cares not either for your good fruit, or for your beautiful ear of ripe wheat, or for your fresh bud of eglantine.
Go, if you please, and sow your pearls before monseigneur our Governor.
What my pigeon wants is his own white dove. She is here; I know she is.
You only refuse to return her to me. I shall go in and look for her myself. I must have my dear white dove, and I shall have her."
"Friend, I shall save you the trouble. Come with me, Baz-valan, come.
Your little dove is not lost. I kept her safe myself, for you. I kept her in an ivory cage, a cage with bars of gold and silver. Yes, your dove is here. She is here, gentle, beautiful, and decked quite gaily.
Your handsome pigeon need not die."
Saying this, the Brotaer opened the house door to the Baz-valan. The latter beckoned to Nominoe to alight from his mount, took him by the hand, and led him into the house of his bride, followed by his relatives and friends. Tina soon appeared, led by the Brotaer and accompanied by her father and grandmother. The first looks of the young girl were for Nominoe; and he, seeing her so charming, above all so radiant with happiness, no longer regretted having overpowered his reluctance to contract the marriage. He thought to himself: "My father was right--my refusal would have been death to her!" Beside Nominoe stood Salaun and his brother Gildas Lebrenn, a va.s.sal of the Count of Plouernel on the farm of Karnak. The more distant relatives and friends ranked themselves along the wall of the blacksmith"s shop, leaving an empty s.p.a.ce in the middle in which the bride and bridegroom were placed by the Baz-valan and the Brotaer. The faces of these two officials looked no less roguish than jovial, yet serious and solemn. The touching expression on the face of Paskou the Long caused his ridiculous thinness to be for a moment lost sight of. Tankeru and Salaun each delivered a silver ring to the Baz-valan, which he put upon the fingers of Nominoe and Tina. After this ceremony the Brotaer said to them:
"On your knees, my children!"
The couple knelt down upon the bare floor, and the Brotaer proceeded:
"Exchange the rings given to you by the Baz-valan, in token of your indissoluble alliance."
The bride and bridegroom exchanged rings, and the Brotaer added in a grave voice:
"Nominoe Lebrenn, Tina Tankeru, do you swear to be joined on earth, the one to the other as your finger to your ring?"
"Oh, I swear!" answered Tina with an expression of celestial bliss, and she approached to her lips the ring which her bridegroom had temporarily carried on his finger.
"I swear!" responded Nominoe.
At the moment of binding his life to his cousin"s, Nominoe was constrained to wrestle for a last time with his irresolution. Before p.r.o.nouncing the irrevocable oath he was silent for an instant. The interval was imperceptible to all except Salaun Lebrenn. The father of the bridegroom realized that, at that solemn moment, his son underwent a supreme struggle with himself. His heart was gripped with pain.
"Tina Tankeru, Nominoe Lebrenn," resumed the Brotaer, "be you two for evermore united, as the ring is to the finger. We live in evil days, oppressed and hara.s.sed as we are by the men of the King, the seigneurs and the clergy. Lean upon each other in your journey through these sad times. May your children see better days. And now, let us proceed to the temple. The Lord will bless those whom man has united. Let us all proceed."
The ceremony being over, Paskou the Long took Nominoe"s horse by the bridle and led the animal to the door of the house. A lighter saddle, provided behind the princ.i.p.al one, enabled the husband to take his wife on the crupper of his mount. The two were considered married with the exchange of rings. Nominoe leaped upon his horse. The Brotaer, in the exercise of his office, raised Tina, light and supple as a child, in his arms, and placed her behind her husband. The nuptial procession again put itself in motion, now back to Mezlean, whither it was preceded by a band of Armorican bag-pipers, playing l.u.s.tily. Behind them came Paskou the Long, cantering on his little white horse, and Madok the miller astride of his a.s.s. They were followed by Nominoe with little Tina behind him--happy--Oh, as happy as one may think, at having her arms around the waist of her well-beloved husband. Salaun Lebrenn and Tankeru rode behind the married couple upon hired horses, while Gildas Lebrenn, his wife, and all the other relatives and friends were seated in wagons drawn by heavy Breton oxen. A large crowd of men, women and children on foot brought up the rear.
CHAPTER III.
THE RED-COATS.
The nuptial procession wended its way slowly. All thought to themselves, and freely expressed the view to their friends, that a better matched couple could not be. She was sweet and charming, and he of a virile bearing which was enhanced by his Breton costume--round hat with wide brim; long black waistcoat and upper vest; wide, white, floating hose that descended to the knees and were held around the waist by a broad belt of scarlet serge; and grey cloth stockings, displaying Nominoe"s well-shaped calves, which were glued to the sides of his strong grey horse. Tina, whose fresh and rosy countenance was framed in her coif surmounted with her nuptial ribbons, wore a corsage of green cloth embroidered with white thread and cut square over her linen gorgerette which betrayed the coy pulsations of her virginal bosom, seeing that, in order to keep her balance, one of her arms encircled Nominoe. The sweet child had been silent since her departure from the paternal roof. Now she spoke, and, blushing, said timidly to Nominoe:
"Nominoe--I have a confession to make to you--"
"A confession of what, dear Tina?" answered the young man affectionately, turning his head to his wife in order to see her over his shoulder.
But Tina, foreseeing the move, put in: "I beg you, do not look at me! If you do I would not dare to say a word!"
"It shall be as you desire, sweet girl;" and smiling, he added: "What can be that redoubtable secret that you fear to confess to my face?
Speak, my dear Tina; reveal your secret to me."
"A sad secret--that I am ashamed of, very much ashamed. I pray to G.o.d you may pardon me for it. I have been very guilty."
Tina"s voice was so moved as she spoke these words, that Nominoe was surprised, and involuntarily moved in his saddle in order to turn around to his wife. But once more she stopped him, saying:
"I entreat you, do not look at me," and she proceeded after a short pause: "I am your wife--you must not be ignorant of any of my thoughts, be they good or bad. No! nothing must remain hidden from my husband."
"A bad thought in your mind, you angelic creature! That is impossible.
You surely exaggerate some trifle, my dear Tina."
"And yet it is so, Nominoe. I doubted you--I doubted your love."
"And why? And when was that?"
"This morning, seeing you delayed in arriving, I said to myself: "Nominoe does not want me for his wife"--"Nominoe does not love me"--"
And noticing that an involuntary shudder ran over the young man"s frame, Tina interjected, almost alarmed:
"Do you feel hurt at my mistrust? I knew you would! I deserve your reproof. That is the very reason that I accuse myself. I prefer to be blamed by you, rather than to conceal aught from my husband. May the sincerity of my confession earn your pardon for me."
The young man remained silent, surprised and struck by the correctness of Tina"s presentiment. To himself he thought: "What a fatality hovers over this marriage! My union is consecrated before man, it will shortly be before G.o.d. Let me at least rea.s.sure the poor child."
Nominoe was about to answer his young wife when an unexpected incident suddenly changed the course of his thoughts. His attention being at first turned to Tina"s words, and being immediately afterwards absorbed in his own meditations, Nominoe had not noticed the approach of a detachment of soldiers that seemed to be hastening to meet the nuptial procession. Suddenly the captain of the troop waved to the peasants to stop.
"Fire and flames! Let us face these red-coats!" said Tankeru to Salaun.
"We are unarmed, and we have women and children with us," answered Salaun. "No imprudence--let us wait till the hour shall have come. I shall ride forward and ascertain what these soldiers want."
"Father," said Nominoe overhearing Salaun"s words, "I shall accompany you. You must not go alone."
"You forget that you have your wife on your crupper. Both of you remain near Tankeru," answered Salaun, and making his horse jump forward, he rode towards the soldiers.
Paskou the Long and Madok the miller, the one in his capacity of Baz-valan, the other of Brotaer, both official representatives of the wedding, joined Salaun Lebrenn. The three trotted briskly towards the armed force in order to ascertain the reason for the hold-up.
The King"s soldiers, fifteen in number and commanded by a sergeant, belonged to the Crown Regiment, and wore the red uniform. The sergeant in command of the detachment had an a.s.sumed military name. He called himself La Montagne. He was an athletic man, tall of stature and in the prime of life. His uniform consisted of a scarlet coat embroidered with alternate blue and silver threads. His hose, his stockings and the lining of his cloak were blue and of the color of his shoulder knot. His sword hung from a white baldric that matched the c.o.c.kade in his three-cornered hat, which was surmounted by red and blue feathers, gallooned in silver, and challengingly tipped on his hair which, agreeable to the new military regulation, was dressed in the fashion called _cadenette_. His hair was curled on his temples, and was twisted behind his neck in a thick queue, tied with a leather thong. The face of the weather-beaten soldier--clean shaven, except for his moustache, and furrowed by a deep scar--bore the stamp of hardihood, daring and insolence. In his hand he carried a long cane with an ivory head. His soldiers, clad in a uniform like his own, except that a simple galloon of white wool ornamented their coats and hats, were armed with a new pattern of guns that replaced the old muskets. A triangular and pointed blade of steel, resembling the long poniards used by the people of Bayonne, and therefore called a _bayonet_, was attached to the muzzle of these guns.
A drummer and a man clad in a blouse, who carried on his back a ball of rope and in his hand a bell which he rang when the drum beat, preceded the troop. The sergeant marched at its head; behind him came two men clad in black. One was the bailiff of the Seigneur of Plouernel and Mezlean, the other the usher of the fisc. Salaun Lebrenn, the Baz-valan and the Brotaer, the last mounted on his a.s.s, and his two companions on their horses, reined in a few paces from the detachment. Obedient to the suggestion of Salaun, and anxious to avoid a collision, all three alighted, and approached the sergeant, holding their mounts by the bridle. The soldiers had halted upon the command of their chief, and, drawn up in a semi-circle, they leaned upon the barrels of their guns.
"Messieurs," said Salaun courteously, "we are peaceful people; we are celebrating a wedding; I am the father of the bride; our company consists of our relatives and friends."
"And I," put in Paskou the Long with an air of importance, "I am the Baz-valan of the wedding, the master of ceremonies."
"And I," added Madok the miller without lowering his eyes before the piercing looks of the sergeant, "I am the Brotaer. You ordered our procession to stop--it obeyed--what do you want? Speak. We shall be pleased to accommodate you."
"By G.o.d"s death! Here is a pack of inquisitive rustics!" observed Sergeant La Montagne to the bailiff and the usher, after measuring Salaun, Paskou the Long and Madok the miller with his eyes.
And addressing his two acolytes over his shoulder, La Montagne added, pointing with the tip of his cane at those whom he was referring to: "Are not these the ragam.u.f.fins whom you are looking for?"