The Blacksmith's Hammer; or, The Peasant Code: A Tale of the Grand Monarch

by Eugène Sue

  CHAPTER VI.

  BERTHA AND NOMINOE.

  As has already been told, the ruins of the ancient feudal manor ofPlouernel rose on the crest of an abruptly rising ridge that once waswholly stripped of vegetation, but that was since planted with trees,seeing it was one of the views from the new castle, the park of which itbounded from the north. The antique dungeon, like all fortifiedseigniorial castles of the middle ages, had a secret and subterraneanissue which opened at a considerable distance from the manor itself.Thanks to this issue, the seigneur, who was always involved in feudswith his neighbors, could flee and elude his enemies if he found hislair on the point of being forced. The subterranean passage of thedungeon of Plouernel which was cut through the living stone by the laborof serfs, communicated, at its near end, with the floors that wereconstructed below the level of the ground, where were located the prisoncells, the torture rooms, and the oubliettes of the manor, and, at thefurther end, with a precipitous slope at the foot of the mountain, atthe top of which rose the dungeon itself. This outer issue opened justoutside of but close to the park. One of the numerous gates of the park,the one nearest to the modern castle, opened on the outside upon anavenue, cut through the forest that belonged to the domain of the Countof Plouernel. To the right of the avenue, which ran into the highroad toRennes, extended a thick wood of old trees, and about two hundred pacesfrom the edge of the same, where the wood grew thickest, was thelocation of the outer issue of the underground passage from the dungeon.This issue, obstructed in the course of many centuries by underbrush andthe slow rise of the soil, bore marks of having recently been cleared,although a curtain of ivy and wild trailing vines, that fell over anatural platform formed by a rocky projection upon which the tangledvegetation had taken root, was left to mask the entrance. Thanks to hisfamily archives, Salaun Lebrenn was aware of this entrance to thedungeon, and he and his son having put themselves in touch with some ofthe Count's vassals--resolute men and leaders in the projecteduprising--he had acquainted them with the secret passage thatcommunicated with the open country, and which offered a safe place forthe deposit of arms and munitions of war. The mouth of the passage,partially masked by the vines, lay about twenty paces from a clump ofold trees that surrounded a little clearing carpeted with grass. In themiddle of the clearing rose an enormous oak, so old, so very old, that,_crowned_ with age, as foresters say, its sap had dried out, and not aleaf greened its immense spread of branches. A living spring furnished anatural reservoir at the extremity of the clearing. A narrow path, wornacross the copse of the wood by the hoofs of the does and stags whocame during the night to drink at the spring, ran out into the road.

  At the hour when Mademoiselle Plouernel's family was searching for herin the park, Nominoe Lebrenn, standing with his back against the deadoak tree in the middle of the clearing, was a prey to profound anxiety.Pale, worn, with his head drooping, his eyes fixed upon the ground, andhis arms crossed on his breast, he was saying to himself:

  "No, she will not come! Oh! now that this desperate attempt has beenmade, I recognize how insensate it was! To write to Dame Marion, to begher to place in the hands of Mademoiselle Plouernel the letter thataccompanied my note, to entrust the package to the gateman at the castlewith the words: 'For Dame Marion,' and then run back to wait for her atthis place! To believe that she would come! It is a crazy man's dream!No, she will not come."

  After a short pause Nominoe resumed:

  "Who knows but she may have lost her way! But the directions in myletter were accurate--'Take, to the right of the avenue, that runs fromthe park, the first path that leads to a clearing where rises a big deadoak near a running spring of water.' Oh, I know this wood! For the lasttwo days I have prowled around it like a bandit! I also know thatunderground passage," added Nominoe, turning his head in the directionof the issue masked by the ivy and wild vines. "In that undergroundplace have bleached the bones of one of my ancestors--a serf of a sireof Plouernel." With a start Nominoe continued: "Strange fatality! Woeis me! It is for a daughter of this race--a race that mine has so oftencursed across the ages--it is for a daughter of the Nerowegs that I amconsumed with delirious love--and soon, perhaps--but no! Go to! Set yourhopes at rest, poor fool! She will not come. No, however generous herheart may be, she cannot forget that she is of noble origin, and that myfamily are vassals to her brother! No! she will not come--and if shedid--would I dare to meet her gaze! Have I not virtually imposed thisrendezvous upon her gratitude! Did I not write to her: 'He who at TheHague saved your life and your honor--waits for you--you will come ifyou have preserved the remembrance of the service he rendered you.' Ifshe does come, will it not be with a haughty front and a severe mien?"

  Suddenly, as he turned his ear toward the wood, a tremor ran throughNominoe's frame. He quickly straightened up. His heart, that beforeheaved heavily, now stopped beating. His strength failed him. Heattempted to take a step, but fell upon his knees on the grass andclasped his hands as in prayer. Mademoiselle Plouernel entered theclearing, holding her silken mask in her hand.

  What was his surprise and joy! The features of Mademoiselle Plouernel,so far from expressing the sentiment of wounded pride, revealed profoundtenderness. She advanced with steady step towards Nominoe, who remainedon his knees; pulled off her glove, and extended to him her charminghand that illness, alas! had thinned. Presently, her beautiful facesuffused with a slight blush, she said without attempting to restrainthe tears that enhanced the brilliancy of her large black eyes:

  "Thanks to you, Monsieur Lebrenn. You afford me at last the opportunityof telling you that never have I forgotten that on the coast of Hollandyou saved my life--and in The Hague you saved my honor! Yes, thanks toyou," repeated the young girl in an accent of ineffable tenderness,while sweet tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. "I owe to you the onlyhappy moment that I have tasted for a long time."

  Mademoiselle Plouernel's emotion, her words, her tone, the cordiality ofher gesture as she extended her hand to Nominoe, threw him into suchconfusion that, remaining on his knees and contemplating the young girlwith a sort of adoration, he tremblingly received the hand which sheoffered him, wet it with his tears, and pressed his burning front uponit. Sobs smothered his words.

  Bertha gently withdrew her hand from Nominoe's, saying in a moved voice:

  "Monsieur Lebrenn, rise--"

  And noticing a few steps from where they were a rock covered with moss,a sort of natural bench, the young girl added:

  "I am barely convalescent--my weakness is still great. I feel tired;allow me to repose on that rock."

  Nominoe rose, and obeyed a sign of Mademoiselle Plouernel, who, afterseating herself, invited him to a place beside her. The girl remainedsilent for a moment and then proceeded:

  "Situations that seem difficult, and even false, become, I think, easyand right, thanks to straightforwardness of conduct. I shall be frank.You also will be sincere, Monsieur Lebrenn. You will answer all myquestions."

  "I feel grateful to you, mademoiselle, that you judge me so favorably,"answered Nominoe. "You will find me straightforward and sincere in allthings."

  "First of all, in order to render intelligible what may otherwise seeminexplicable to you, Monsieur Lebrenn, I must inform you that evenbefore I owed my life--and then my honor--to you, I already felt a deepinterest, if not in you personally, at least in all the members of yourfamily."

  And in response to a gesture of surprise on the part of Nominoe, Berthaadded:

  "I am acquainted with a part of your family legend."

  "You, mademoiselle! You are acquainted with our plebeian legends!"

  "Yes; thanks to a manuscript left to us by Colonel Plouernel, one of myancestors."

  "Does that manuscript date back to the last century?" inquired Nominoe,struck by a sudden recollection. "Colonel Plouernel, a Huguenot,intended those pages for his son. Yes, indeed, our family narrativementions the fact."

  "My mother discovered the manuscript in the library of the castle. Mymother suffered a great deal,
Monsieur Lebrenn; she was a woman of greatunderstanding and of a large heart. Therefore, so far from embitteringher disposition, her sufferings rendered her still more generous.Herself acquainted with sorrow, she sympathized all the more with thesorrows of others. A victim of iniquity, she felt tender compassion forthe victims of all iniquity, and a vigorous hatred for all oppression.Although she was of patrician origin, and although the wife of the Countof Plouernel, my mother, ripened by misfortune and by reflection, beinginstructed by the revelations contained in your family narratives,embraced the convictions of the Huguenot colonel who was the friend ofyour ancestor Odelin Lebrenn, the armorer of La Rochelle. Oh, I have notforgotten a single incident of that interesting narrative."

  "What, mademoiselle! You remember that obscure name?"

  "That obscure name was the name of an honorable man and one of the bravesoldiers of Admiral Coligny, wrote Colonel Plouernel in the pages thathe destined for his son. You seem surprised at the accuracy of mymemory, Monsieur Lebrenn," added Bertha with a melancholy smile; "andyet my recollections are not circumscribed to that incident alone. Atthis moment there is present to my memory the name of another of yourancestors--Den-Brao the mason, who, assisted by other serfs, cut theunderground gallery, one of the issues of which you can see yonder."With these words the young girl pointed to the orifice of the vault cutin the rock, and added, with a shiver, "It is a mournful history, thathistory of your ancestor Den-Brao! He was starved to death in thepassage his own hands had built."

  Nominoe and Bertha looked at each other in silence. Bertha proceeded:

  "Do you know why I now recall those narratives? It is that you mayunderstand what a deep impression was bound to be produced upon mymother--and then upon myself--by the account contained in the manuscriptof Colonel Plouernel. Yes, judge what we must have felt, especially whenwe learned that one of the descendants of that Gallic race was in ourown days among the vassals of the seigniory of Plouernel, on the domainof Mezlean. 'Oh! my child,' my mother would say to me, 'is not thisrevelation of the iniquities and barbaric acts committed from century tocentury by your father's family upon the family of this poor vassal, aprovidential revelation? Should not such a revelation induce us to stepupon the path of expiation for so many iniquities and barbarismscommitted from century to century? Alas! Had I any power in this place,I would call around us the descendants of that family, who are to-dayour vassals; I would strive to appease their resentment with acts ofkindness, and with delicate consolation. I would be their protectress,their friend.'"

  "Oh, generous heart!" exclaimed Nominoe, touched to tears. "How elsecould it be, but that, brought up by such a mother, MademoisellePlouernel, you should prove worthy of her!"

  "Never shall I forget her lessons and her example. Finally, at the timethat a sudden illness carried my mother away, she and I were on thepoint of going to Mezlean, in order to visit the leasehold peasantGildas Lebrenn, who, as I subsequently learned, is your father'sbrother. That excursion never took place. I lost my mother, I had toleave Brittany. I went to Versailles with my aunt. Perhaps you learnedfrom your friend, Monsieur Serdan, the object that, without my beingmade privy to the plot, was contemplated by those who were taking me toEngland?"

  "Yes, mademoiselle; it was that which enabled Monsieur Serdan todiscover the loftiness of your sentiments and the grandeur of yournature."

  "The oddness of our meeting has caused you extreme surprise; is it nottrue, monsieur? Well, imagine what my feeling must have been when, atThe Hague, I, Bertha of Plouernel," the young girl proceeded, fixing herbeautiful eyes upon Nominoe, "learned that he who had saved my life, andwho, subsequently, at the price of his blood, saved my honor, wasdescended from that very family to whom mine had so much to atonefor--when I discovered that my savior's heart was as great as hiscourage--when it was granted to me to know--to appreciate you."

  The accents of Mademoiselle Plouernel's voice, and the expression of herface as she uttered these last words, denoted such tenderness, suchnobility, such affection--the silence into which she immediatelyrelapsed seemed so significant to Nominoe, that a sudden thought flashedthrough his mind. Despite his own modesty, despite his diffidence inhimself, despite the seemingly insane improbability of the hope thatcaused his heart to bound--he believed himself loved. The intoxicationof bliss emboldened him. In a tremulous voice he cried:

  "And you, mademoiselle, imagine what my feelings must be at this moment,when I hear you recall to my memory the running conflict between our twofamilies across the ages--and then to hear you pronounce the words ofatonement and reparation! In what can that reparation consist? Despitemyself--an insane hope enters my heart. Alas! I know but too well thatmy hope is insensate! Pronounce my sentence!"

  "What do you hope?" asked Bertha in a firm voice.

  "No; I should never have the courage to tell you--I dread to arouse yourjust disdain--your mockery--your anger--"

  "If I could disdain you, would I now be near you? The future of us bothis too somber for me to think of mocking! You promised sincerity to me."

  Nominoe grew paler than he was before; he lowered his head; he murmuredin a trembling, desperate, passionate voice:

  "I love you! I love you to distraction!"

  "I also, Nominoe, love you!" answered Mademoiselle Plouernel solemnly."Yes," she proceeded, holding her head high, and serene; "I loveyou--with all my soul--I fear not to make the admission."

  "Oh, joy in heaven!" cried the young man, falling upon his knees andclasping his hands before Bertha. "You love me! I am not the sport of adream! You love me?"

  "Yes, I love you; I tell you so without blushing, because I hold youworthy of such a love, Nominoe! 'Joy in heaven!' did you say? Oh, youspoke truly. Our joys will be celestial--our future looks dark here onearth--but yonder--yonder, where, according to the belief of yourfathers, we shall live anew, body and soul--yonder our future will shinein splendor. You seek to fathom the meaning of my words, Nominoe! Rise,sit down here beside me, listen to me! You shall be made acquainted withall my thoughts."

  Racked by doubt and hope, intoxicated by the confession of MademoisellePlouernel, discouraged, almost frightened by her last words, Nominoerose silently, approached again the moss-covered bench, and sat downbeside Bertha, who proceeded:

  "The first time I saw you was in the midst of a storm that threatened toengulf our vessel, and dash it against the coast of Holland. I preservedmy self-possession despite the threatening danger--because I do not feardeath. Thus I could follow your manoeuvres with inexpressible interest.I admired your devotion. I was touched by your youth. Shortly after, asour vessel rode safely at anchor, I had the opportunity of appreciatingyour nature and the dignity of your character by the answer you gave tothe offer of remuneration made to you by the Abbot, our travelingcompanion. I then thought I would never see you again, Nominoe!Nevertheless, I felt happy at being bound to you by the bond ofgratitude. Since that day your image took its place in my heart!"

  "Oh! Since that day also, your image has been ever present in mythoughts. How was I ever to forget the moment when, as I approachedyour brigantine in the hope of saving it, I saw you at the poop of thevessel so beautiful, so calm, smiling at the tempest! It was to me adazzling vision! Alas! often did the vision reappear in my dreams!Finally, when on that same day, I read in your eyes the grief it causedyou to see the humiliation that I had to suffer--I divined the benignityand the nobility of your heart! Your remembrance became still dearer tome! Oh! I loved you passionately!"

  "I believe you, Nominoe! Why should not the feelings that youexperienced have been as strong as the feelings experienced by myself?Then came that unhappy, that frightful day when, wounded by gunshots,you came near perishing in order to shelter me from dishonor," continuedMademoiselle Plouernel with a tremulous voice and eyes moist with tears;"in short, the day when I learned--Oh, providential coincidence!--thatmy savior belonged to that vassal family whose history I knew. Thediscovery, coming, as it did, upon the heels of the shocks of that sameday, quite overt
hrew me; it dealt me a last blow. Nevertheless, when,after Monsieur Serdan had furnished us with the conveyances to leave TheHague, he gave me warrant to entertain the hope that your wounds wouldnot prove fatal, and with a few heartfelt words praised you in a waythat filled my soul with bliss, I recovered heart. I swear to you,Nominoe, had I not at that moment felt prostrated by the first symptomsof a grave illness that was to prey upon me for a long time; had my mindnot been upset and my strength exhausted by so many violent emotions, Iwould not have left The Hague that night without first seeingyou--without expressing to you all the gratitude and admiration thatyour generous conduct evoked in me. But all the springs of my spirit hadsnapped; I could only weep--sterile, cowardly tears!--in that I left youin that city; dying, perhaps; a victim of your devotion to me! Wedeparted for France. The fatigues of the journey, coupled with a slowfever, left me in an almost desperate condition when we arrived atVersailles. For two or three months I hovered between life and death.Thanks to the care of able physicians and to my youth, I finally emergedfrom the desperate state in which I languished. It seemed to me that Iawoke from a frightful dream--by little and little the events in TheHague and of my return to France came back to me. Those recollections,rendered as they were doubly dear to my heart by our separation, awokewithin my breast a sentiment towards you more tender than meregratitude. I loved you, Nominoe! In doing so I yielded above all to theirresistible attraction of the thought that I loved in you thedescendant of that family that had so long been persecuted by my own. Mylove became an atonement for the past! I saw something providential inthe events that had thrown us together! Did I not owe life, honor, toyou, the descendant of those vassals who had themselves been so oftensmitten in their lives, in the honor of their daughters and of theirwives, by my ancestors! Oh! Nominoe, if you only knew with what fervor Ithanked God for having inspired me with the desire of taking for myhusband, I, a daughter of Neroweg the Frank, a son of Joel the Gaul! Wasnot the atonement of the daughter of the oppressors a just one to theson of the oppressed? Was not the marriage, that would consecrate theunion of the conquered race with the conqueror, a natural one? Was notthat love celestial that had its source in justice? I felt happy at thethought of that fusion of our two races!"

  Words are impotent to express certain emotions. His visage bathed intears, Nominoe remained silent. Suddenly a voice from afar, fresh andpure--the voice of a young girl--began to sing or rather to recite to aslow and melancholy rythm, one of those bardings or national Bretonsongs, some of which, popular still in these days, go back to the oldestpossible antiquity. The singer was taking her sheep to pasture upon oneof the shaded slopes of the ridge, at the crest of which rose the ruinsof the feudal dungeon. The sweet voice, thinned by the distance, seemedto descend from the skies. At the sound of the first lines of the song,despite his emotion, Nominoe felt thrilled; he listened a moment, andsaid to Mademoiselle Plouernel:

  "Strange coincidence! That chant, traditional in Brittany for centuriesand centuries, recounts the death of a young girl of our family in thedays of the conquest of Gaul by Julius Caesar."

  "The death of a young girl!" echoed Mademoiselle Plouernel with anindefinable smile.

  The last couplet of the song barely reached the ears of Bertha andNominoe because the shepherdess was climbing the slope as she sang, andsoon her voice was lost in space. Mademoiselle Plouernel had listened tothe chant with profound attention, clasped hands, and eyes raisedheavenward.

  Awaking from her revery and addressing Nominoe with an agony, the causeof which he was unable to explain, Bertha said to him:

  "Is the legend of the brave and sweet Hena, the Virgin of the Isle ofSen, the daughter of your ancestor Joel, also preserved in your family?The virgin who sacrificed herself to appease the anger of Hesus?"

  "Yes, mademoiselle; it is one of the legends of our family. To thenarrative is attached a little gold sickle, a sort of symbolic andsacred piece of jewelry that female druids wore in their belts."

  "So it is, Nominoe! I remember that in his manuscript Colonel Plouernelsays that to each of your family narratives there is attached sometrinket that is almost always symbolic and was left by the author of thestory, and that, in that way, from generation to generation, the humbleand antique collection of your family relics was gathered. MonsieurPlouernel mentions among others a little silver cross, left by yourancestral grandmother Genevieve, who witnessed the execution of Jesus ofNazareth in Jerusalem! What mementoes! What magnificent mementoes!"

  Bertha relapsed into a pensive mood, and then asked:

  "Tell me, Nominoe, are the sacred stones of Karnak, mentioned in theballad of Hena, the Virgin of the Isle of Sen, the same that are seen tothis day?"

  "They are the same; and already in the days of Julius Caesar theirorigin was lost in the night of remote ages."

  "I visited those stones during my recent trip to Mezlean. They aregigantic; their colossal avenues extend to the very edge of the sea,which breaks at their feet! Their granite ribs have defied the ages!They are at this hour what they were on the day when your ancestressoffered her innocent life to the gods, in order to appease their anger,and save Gaul from the foreign invader! Sublime devotion! Its memory isperpetuated down to our own days! Oh, Nominoe! My proud family boasts ofthe antiquity of its stock and the nobility of its origin! How mucholder and truly noble is yours! It is you, my friend, it is you whowould _stoop low_, as they say, if this union, that I have dreamedabout--"

  And answering a gesture of the young man, Bertha added:

  "Did I not tell you, Nominoe--our joys will be celestial, notterrestrial! Providence so wills it--you must submit to the providentialdecree. We must know how to resign ourselves, my friend."

  "Bertha, I implore you, have mercy upon my feverish brain. What ishappening to me hurls me into a sort of vertigo. I know not whether I amdreaming, or whether I am awake. I doubt what I see, what I hear, what Ifeel! A moment ago you pronounced the word marriage. Despite myself Iyielded to the intoxication of an insane hope. Oh, truly insane!"

  "I have not yet finished my confessions to you, Nominoe. That ballad,the thoughts it awakened in me; the memories that it recalled to yourmind, interrupted our conversation. Listen further. I saw in ourmarriage an atonement, a reparation of the wrongs that your familysuffered from century to century at the hands of mine. In the measurethat my health improved, that project grew to a rooted thought. Butdoubts and misgivings assailed me. First of all, you might not loveme--perhaps, on learning that I was a daughter of the Nerowegs, youmight entertain an instinctive aversion for me, one of those racialantipathies that often are invincible, and, unhappily, but too welljustified. I often doubted whether you could love me. Again, when Iconsidered this marriage in the light of the world's prejudices, deepabysses of difficulties seemed to yawn before my eyes. Nothingfrightened me away--I continued to love you bravely, Nominoe. Long did Icudgel my brains in the effort to overcome so many obstacles, above allto ascertain whether you remembered me at all. Finally my ponderingsarrived at the following conclusions: I would, first of all, makecertain of the nature of your feelings towards me, by addressing myselfdirectly to you with the tranquility of a straightforward heart and apure soul. You were a sailor of the port of Vannes, your father told me;other members of your family were vassals of the domain of Mezlean, andleasehold peasants of Karnak. Consequently, I had to return to Brittany.There I would be certain of an opportunity to meet you. My fate andyours would then be ascertained and determined. This decision put an endto the anxieties that had long beset me, and operated a wholesomereaction in my health. My recovery made rapid progress. In the spring ofthis year, the physician to whom I communicated my desire to return toBrittany not only approved, but added that my native climate was aloneable to finish my cure. As my aunt and my brother could not then leaveVersailles, they let me depart for Plouernel in the escort of an oldequerry and accompanied by my old nurse Marion, a good and worthy womanwho never left my side. She is honest, faithful, devoted and of Bretonextraction; he
r family lives in Vannes. Immediately upon my arrival atPlouernel I ordered Marion to write to one of her relatives and beg himto inquire, whether Monsieur Lebrenn and his son, mariners of the portof Vannes, were still residents of the town. Marion received answer thatyou and your father were away, but were soon expected back. I waited. Atabout this time--I must conceal nothing from you--my brother came toPlouernel. The plans he had formed concerning myself, at the time of ourprojected journey to England, had extinguished all the affection, allthe esteem I entertained for him. I told him so one day; since that,self-esteem and a sense of personal dignity prevented me from againtouching upon the subject with him. But court people are so constitutedthat they speedily forget one unworthy act in the commission of another.Although all the new plans of my brother were honorable, compared withthe first, yet were they stamped with his characteristic and profoundselfishness. He wished to marry me off. The ambition and greed ofMonsieur Plouernel saw considerable advantage in the marriage that henow proposed. However great the strain upon my candor, I did notformally reject his new projects. Thanks to this seeming readiness on mypart, my brother showed himself tolerant towards what he calls myeccentricities. In that way it happened that, learning of your return toVannes from Marion's relative, I could, without encountering the Count'sopposition, undertake a trip to Mezlean, accompanied by my nurse and theold equerry. It was on the road to the burg that I saw you again for thefirst time--when--when--I met--"

  Mademoiselle Plouernel could proceed no further. Tears streamed from hereyes. Her tears, her silence, the heaving of her bosom, betrayed suchpainful emotions that Nominoe turned suddenly pale and shuddered. Onlythen did he remember what in the confusion of his thoughts he hadforgotten until that moment--that he was leading Tina to the altar ashis bride when he met Mademoiselle Plouernel, and that she could notchoose but be informed of his wedding. Overwhelmed at that thought, hedared not raise his eyes to Bertha; he felt his last hopes melting away!He dropped from heaven to the earth.

  After a pause Mademoiselle Plouernel recovered control over heremotions, wiped her tears, and proceeded:

  "Nominoe, this was my purpose in going to Mezlean: I meant to write toyou and request you to come to the manor. The wish, so natural a wish,of expressing my gratitude to you for the services you had rendered me,justified the step. I expected you to respond to my invitation, Irelied upon my sincere and penetrating love to discover at our veryfirst interview whether you shared the sentiments that you inspired inme, and whether the loftiness of your heart was equal to myexpectations. If so, I was to make to you the admission that I made toyou so shortly ago, and I meant to add: 'Nominoe, I am master over myperson--my family's unworthy conduct towards me has forever snapped thebonds that held me subject to its wishes, it has snapped all the bondsof deference to them; I offer you my hand; I know that, in France, apastor may fear to consecrate our union, dreading the resentment of sopowerful a house as mine; let us pledge ourselves to each other to-day;let us exchange our pledges in the presence of God and of your father;to-morrow we shall depart with him from Vannes for England on board ofthe vessel that he owns; once in London a magistrate will marry us; Ishall not speak of my property; it may be confiscated from me; but Ihave my mother's jewelry and a sum large enough to secure to us a modestcomfort; we shall live in England in case we should think it too riskyto return to France; would you prefer to face such risks rather thanexpatriation? I love you, I am brave, your wishes shall be mine,Nominoe'--That was my plan, such were my ardent wishes! Accordingly, onthe day following my arrival at Mezlean, I was on my way to the burg forthe purpose of ascertaining your residence and addressing my letter toyou, when I encountered a nuptial procession which the soldiers of theKing had stopped--and--the very moment when I learned that that nuptialprocession was yours, Nominoe--yours--I saw you fleeing at a distance,distractedly fleeing, to the painful astonishment of your father andyour bride. The cause of your flight was unexplainable to me; but thatdid not matter; your heart was no longer free--the charming beauty ofthe young girl whom you are to marry justifies your love for her! Ireturned to Plouernel the day after our meeting. I arrived broken withgrief. I had not left my room since my return when, this morning, Mariondelivered to me your letter--and I came. Now you know it all, Nominoe.Perhaps, in the course of this interview, I wrongly reproached you withinsincerity when you protested the constancy of your love for me. Youare an honorable man, incapable of having meant to deceive the younggirl who is to be your wife. And yet, you claim to have always loved me!Well! I believe you! Did I not believe you, my confession would haveremained forever buried in my heart! Yes, the human soul is at times sostrange a mystery, that another affection may have found its placebeside your love for me--a love that you looked upon as a dream. But, atleast, the remembrance of your love will remain sweet and dear to you,because it will have been noble and pure. On my part, Nominoe, theremembrance of you will also remain ever dear to me, because it was youwho inspired me with a generous thought, a thought of justice andreparation. Yes, when, according to our common belief, we shall meetagain in yonder other worlds, we shall meet with countenances radiantwith celestial bliss. I said to you, my friend, our joys are not to beof this world."

  Nominoe raised his face bathed in tears, and, making an effort to steadyhis voice:

  "Listen to me, in turn--above all, mademoiselle, I implore you--believein my sincerity--"

  "Nominoe, call me Bertha. The fraternal familiarity will be in thenature of a consolation to me."

  "Oh, God! Is it your purpose to render my despair still more distressfulby reminding me, with such a token of familiarity, of the happiness thatI have forfeited!" exclaimed Nominoe amid heartrending sobs. "Pardon,Bertha, pardon me such an answer to the touching proof of youraffection; but if you only knew, alas! how much I suffer! Since thatjourney to The Hague I have loved you, loved you passionately! Do youknow, Bertha, what it was that rendered that love irresistible? It wasan attraction exactly the counterpart of that which drew you to me. Yes,however singular, however unexplainable it may seem, I loved in you,above all, the daughter of the Nerowegs! Yes, that hopeless love, thatinsane love, promised only disappointment, grief, suffering, andannihilation to me! And yet it had for me the fatal charm of the void,that drags us to an abyss! I felt at once I know not what sad and tendersentiment by loving in you the descendant of the race that, sinceearliest childhood, I had learned to curse! You were in my eyes an angelof pardon and of concord! Oh, Bertha! However legitimate hatred may be,it is so bitter, and pardon so sweet! In you I spoke your ancestors freefrom guilt! So far from considering you one with their iniquities, Iconsidered them one with your virtues! Yes, you redeemed the wicked ofyour race, as Christ redeemed the world by his virtues, his kindness,his evangelical grace!"

  "Nominoe! How proud I am of my love for you!" cried MademoisellePlouernel with indescribable ecstasy, and moved to the profoundestdepths of her soul by Nominoe's words and the accent in which they wereuttered. "Oh! I was not mistaken when I said to you, our love draws itsinspiration from sentiments too celestial, ever to be of this world."

  "In this world, as in the next ones where we shall proceed to live, ourlove, I feel it, will last through all eternity! Its source is too loftyever to be untrue to itself--it is providential. On the very morning ofmy marriage, at the moment when I was to proceed to my bride's house tolead her to the temple, I learned of your arrival at Mezlean. I wasunaware of, I could not even suspect your intentions. Nevertheless, aninvincible presentiment came over me! I wished to break off my wedding!Betrothed to my cousin almost from childhood, I had loved her as thefuture companion of my life, until my return from The Hague. But eversince I met you I have lived only for the intoxicating passion, thefatal passion, the folly of which I realized but too well. In themeantime the day for my marriage with my cousin approached. I confessit, the fear of dealing a painful blow to the poor child by breaking aunion that was planned so long, the fear of grieving my father, then thefurther thought that surely I would neve
r again see you--finally, thehope of finding in the sweet delights of the family hearth oblivion foran insane love, induced me to consent to the marriage."

  "All is now clear to me, Nominoe," put in Mademoiselle Plouernel with asigh of ineffable relief. "Oh! I believe you; I feel happy in believingyou."

  "When I saw you again, Bertha, on the road to Mezlean, I lost myhead--an irresistible power carried me away--I fled demented. Duringthat night I wandered like one insane in the forest. Presently myagitation subsided, I contemplated the reality. My marriage with mycousin was no longer possible--it was absolutely impossible."

  "Impossible?" echoed Mademoiselle Plouernel with a tremor. "Whyimpossible, Nominoe?"

  "Because I am a man of honor! Because no human power could now induce meto marry that poor child, now that I know, Bertha, that you love me. Itherefore left Mezlean without seeing my family; I had not the courageto face their indignation. I came to Plouernel, obsessed with the hopeof an interview with you, and then, Bertha, I swear before God, whohears and judges me--"

  "Nominoe, before God, who hears and judges us, answer me," saidMademoiselle Plouernel solemnly, so to speak transfigured with theradiance of unutterable hope. "Are you firmly resolved to persist in therupture of your marriage?"

  "No human power can compel me to a marriage that would render my cousinand myself wretched."

  "And are you resolved to expatriate yourself?"

  "Yes. I never again would dare to see my father, who would curseme--who, perhaps, has already cursed me!"

  "When do you propose to leave?"

  "To-day," answered Nominoe swallowing a sob. "I shall engage myself as asailor at Nantes, on some vessel sailing to the Indies. We shall neveragain meet here below, Bertha!"

  Mademoiselle Plouernel remained steeped in silent reflection. Presentlyshe asked abruptly:

  "Is there near Nantes, along the coast, any small and little-frequentedport where one may embark secretly?"

  "Yes, St. Renan," answered Nominoe, raising his head and looking atBertha with surprise; "St. Renan, near the mouth of the Loire."

  "Are you sure you could find there a vessel that could attempt thepassage to England?"

  "St. Renan is a fishermen's port; their vessels are decked, and areexcellent sailers; they can cross the channel with ease."

  "How long would it take to reach the place from here on a good horse?"

  "From seven to eight hours, including stops. The horse would have to berested on the hills."

  "Is the road that leads to St. Renan a frequented one?"

  "Very slightly; it is only a cross-road."

  "Can one take ship at St. Renan at any tide?"

  "No; only when the tide is high."

  "At what hour could one embark to-morrow?"

  "At this part of the month the tide must be high between eleven andtwelve at night. One would have to be at St. Renan at midnight."

  "Could you, between now and to-morrow," asked Bertha, "procure acarriage drawn by a good horse?"

  "Yes," answered Nominoe, hardly able any longer to resist theintoxication of a hope that caused his heart to beat to the breakingpoint.

  "There will be wanted, besides," said Mademoiselle Plouernel, "twomantles with hoods attached, of the kind worn by peasant women.Nominoe," she proceeded, controlling her voice which, however, vibratedunder the strain of the emotions that agitated her soul at that solemnmoment, "to-morrow, at three o'clock in the afternoon, wait for me ahundred paces from here, at the road of the Cross, with the carriagethat you will drive. Do not forget the two hooded cloaks--one is for me,the other for Marion. The hoods will hide our faces. My leaving thecastle at full daylight, and at the usual hour for my promenade, willawaken no suspicion. We shall then start instantly for St. Renan, wherewe shall set sail for England, and there, Nominoe," added Bertha, givingherself finally over to the impulse of her love and breaking out intotears of celestial sweetness, "our marriage--shall be consummated."

  "Your mask! Put your mask on! There is someone coming! Great God, myfather!" cried Nominoe, perceiving Salaun Lebrenn and Serdan as theycautiously emerged from the underground gallery that led to the ruins ofthe dungeon of Plouernel.

  Mademoiselle Plouernel hastened to hide her face in the silken maskthat she had laid down beside her at the start of her interview withNominoe. The latter, stupefied at the sight of his father and MonsieurSerdan, remained silent and in consternation, while Bertha, masked,standing motionless, her arms crossed over her palpitating bosom awaitedanxiously the issue of the unexpected encounter.

  Despite the anger that his face revealed, Salaun Lebrenn could notrestrain a sigh of relief at seeing his son, concerning whom he had beenracked with anxiety since the day of his disappearance. Serdancontemplated with inquisitive and suspicious eyes the masked woman whomthey found in a tete-a-tete with Nominoe, not far from one of the parkgates of the Castle of Plouernel. Reassured upon his son's fate, Salaunwas about to give a loose to his indignation, but the presence of theunknown masked woman restrained him. While asking himself who the womancould be and what relations she could have with Nominoe, he said to thelatter in a peremptory tone, accompanying the words with a gesture ofauthority:

  "Follow us, my son! Your uncle and I must speak with you."

  "Father, please let me know where I shall meet you. I shall place myselfat your orders at sunset."

  "Follow me instantly!" replied Salaun imperiously. "Come on the spot!What we have to say to you will brook no delay."

  "It is hard for me to disobey you, father--but at this moment I can notaccompany you," answered Nominoe, stepping towards Bertha. "I can notleave the lady alone--later I shall obey you. I shall go to whateverplace you may please to appoint."

  "You dare resist your father's orders--unhappy boy!"

  "Father, do not insist--it is useless--I will and must stay here."

  "Heaven and earth!" cried Salaun, beside himself with rage at his son'srefusal--"man without faith and without honor!"

  "Oh! Enough! For mercy's sake, father!" retorted Nominoe in a hollowvoice, turning pale with both pain and anger at hearing himself insultedby his own father in the presence of Mademoiselle Plouernel.

  But she, taking the young man's hand, said to him in a low and suppliantvoice:

  "Obey your father!"

  "Lebrenn! For heaven's sake, collect yourself!" put in Serdan,continuing to eye Bertha attentively. "It is imprudent to allow yourselfto be carried away by your just indignation--before a strange woman."

  "That strange woman!" cried Salaun, interrupting his friend. "Thatstrange woman!" And taking with a menacing mien a step towardsMademoiselle Plouernel: "Woman without honor! It is you who corrupted,you who drove my son to perdition! Who are you? Answer me, wretch thatyou are!"

  "Oh! God have mercy! Such an insult to her! to her!" cried Nominoe, and,dashing forward towards Salaun: "Father, you know not whom you arespeaking to. Not another word!"

  "A threat! And to me!" exclaimed Salaun, exasperated. "A threat, whenyou should drop at my feet repentant and suppliant--cowardly assassin!"

  "Assassin! I!" stammered Nominoe, thunderstruck at Salaun's aspect,while the latter, more and more enraged, addressed MademoisellePlouernel:

  "Infamous creature--you are the accomplice in the murder!"

  "Murder?" repeated Nominoe, stupefied.

  "Yes; murder; the murder of Tina, your bride--"

  "Great God! Father! What is that you are saying!" cried Nominoe,shuddering with horror. "Tina, my bride--"

  "You killed her, wretch! You killed her by deserting her!" answeredSalaun in a voice broken with sobs. "She died--the poor child is nomore."

  "Down on our knees before your father! Let us weep over the dead on ourknees, Nominoe!" said Mademoiselle Plouernel, throwing her mask faraway. "Let us weep for the ill-starred Tina."

  And pale, her face in tears, overwhelmed with grief and almost fainting,she fell down, like Nominoe, upon her knees before Salaun, while Serdan,jumping back a step, cried out:
/>
  "Mademoiselle Plouernel! In this place!"

  Salaun, recognizing, as Serdan had done, the young girl whom he had notseen again since leaving The Hague, remained speechless. Remembering howhe had admired the loftiness of the young girl's sentiments, he nowregretted the vehemence of the language he had just used towards her.Now, no longer doubting the love with which she inspired Nominoe, heunderstood the cause of his son's irresolution on the very morning ofthe wedding, and why he had fled like one demented, when the nuptialprocession was about to resume its march to the temple. Upon thesethoughts, this other followed: His son loved a daughter of the Nerowegs!a descendant of that race that the descendants of Joel had so oftencursed across the ages! And yet, the beauty and the tears ofMademoiselle Plouernel, now prostrated at his feet, moved Salaun despitehimself, especially when Bertha said to him in heartrending accents:

  "I was not aware of the death of Nominoe's bride, when, a minute ago, Isay it without blushing, I offered my hand to your son."

  "You?" cried Salaun, hardly believing what he heard. "You, mademoiselle!A Plouernel!"

  "This union of one of the descendants of Joel with a daughter of Nerowegwas, in my estimation, to repair the iniquities that for centuries myfamily whelmed yours with."

  "Noble and generous heart!" cried Serdan.

  Salaun remained silent and pensive. Nominoe, still upon his knees besideBertha, and overcome with sorrow by the death of Tina, dared at thismoment to raise his moist and suppliant eyes to his father. His looksseemed to say:

  "Do you still deem me so guilty for loving Mademoiselle Plouernel?"

  "It is upon my knees, monsieur, that I expected to confess to you a lovethat I, nevertheless, feel proud of! But, alas! this love has caused thedeath of an innocent girl! Therefore, also, it is upon my knees that Iwish to ask your pardon for that misfortune, seeing that, althoughunwittingly, yet, Oh, just heavens! I am not a stranger to it! Now,Nominoe, rise!" added Bertha, herself rising with dignity. "Your father,I doubt not, has restored me to his esteem. For this esteem I amgrateful to you, monsieur; I shall not be unworthy of it," observed theyoung girl, answering a gesture of approbation from Salaun.

  And turning towards Nominoe, who had also risen from the ground, sheproceeded in a trembling and resigned voice, and endeavoring to controlthe pangs of her soul:

  "Our marriage, even with the approval of your father, is henceforthimpossible, Nominoe! The remembrance, the shadow of that ill-starredgirl would always rise between us!" said Bertha shuddering.

  But proceeding with a poignant smile:

  "Courage, my friend! Thanks to God, our life is not confined to the lifeof this world! At this moment, when I take my leave of you, I say to younot adieu! I say till we meet again, Nominoe! Perhaps, although stillvery young, I may precede you to one of those mysterious worlds where mymother awaits me--and whither that sweet girl, your bride, has takenflight! Oh! At least, I shall be able to meet their eyes without fear, Ishall then tell all to them. And the day when, departing from thisearth, you will come to join us, the hearts of all us three will fly tomeet your spirit! Till we meet, then, my friend! Alas, my presentimentsdid not deceive me. My love was kindled in sentiments too celestial tobe for this world;--having come from yonder, on high, it must reascendto its divine source!" and Bertha pointed Nominoe heavenward with a mienof sublime simplicity.

  Nominoe, his father, and Serdan listened to Mademoiselle Plouernel withinexpressible emotion, while Madok the miller came out of theunderground gallery, looking hither and thither with precaution. Aninstant he remained motionless with surprise at the sight of Serdan andLebrenn conversing with Mademoiselle Plouernel, whom he had seen on theroad to Mezlean on the day of Tina's wedding. Casting thereupon a lookof somber reproach upon Nominoe, seeing he now met him again for thefirst time since the nuptial ceremony at which he filled the role of"Brotaer," the miller beckoned to Salaun to step aside and said to himin an undertone:

  "What is the _demoiselle_ doing here? She is as good as her brother iswicked, but--she is a daughter of Plouernel."

  "And our men?" inquired Salaun interrupting Madok, and not consideringthe moment opportune for answering his question. "Have they arrived? Didthey bring the arms that were promised us, the pikes, muskets andammunition?"

  "Yes, they brought the last load of arms concealed among faggots andgreen branches. They went down into the underground gallery through theruins of the dungeon. They report everything ready for to-night in theparishes. The tocsin is to sound with the rising of the moon. Apackage-carrier who went through Plouernel left the news that the peopleof Nantes and Rennes have risen in revolt, and that fighting is going onin the suburbs. The troops are getting the worst of it."

  "That I knew," answered Salaun. "We must not be found behindhanded. Waithere for me; I shall return immediately."

  Salaun walked back to his son and Mademoiselle Plouernel, who said tohim in a voice that she strove to render firm:

  "Monsieur Lebrenn, I shall now return to the castle; to-morrow I shalldepart for the manor of Mezlean, where I desire to live in absoluteseclusion. I shall not see you again, Nominoe; but at least I carry withme in my solitary retreat your father's respect, and the remembrance ofa love that I am proud of, because it sprang from a generous sentiment.In offering my hand to your son, Monsieur Lebrenn, I meant to do aworthy act."

  "Infamy and treason! Her hand to a vassal!" suddenly broke in a voicethat shook with rage. "Malediction upon the miserable woman!"

  And emerging from the copse behind which they had for an instant lainconcealed, there suddenly appeared upon the clearing the Count ofPlouernel and the Marquis of Chateauvieux.

  After having explored the avenues of the park, the Count had come acrossseveral of his forester guardsmen, from whom he inquired whether theyhad seen Mademoiselle Plouernel. They saw her, was their answer, abouttwo hours ago, walking in the direction of one of the park gates, whichthey found open; great was their surprise upon first noticing on thedust of the road the imprint of Bertha's little feet; but their surpriseredoubled when they saw the tracks of the young girl running towards thenarrow and shaded path that led to the clearing. Agitated by a vaguepresentiment, the Count alighted from his mount, the Marquis didlikewise, and the Count ordered one of the equerries who accompanied himto run back immediately, and by all means to return with the foresterguardsmen, whom he had just met. Thereupon the Count of Plouernel andthe Marquis of Chateauvieux, leaving their horses in charge of anotherequerry, dived into the copse, followed the path and, arriving at theclearing, stood petrified at the sight of Bertha conversing withstrangers. Finally, as they listened they caught the last words thatMademoiselle Plouernel was addressing to Salaun Lebrenn on the subjectof her love for Nominoe. Informed by his bailiff that two members of theLebrenn family, a vassal family of his own domains, and mariners of theport of Vannes, were pointed out as mutinous and dangerous people, theCount was fired with an incontrollable fury at hearing his sister admither love for a miserable mariner of the vassal race. The love, at whichthe Count's family pride rose in revolt, furthermore dashed theprojected double marriage that he pursued. He now could explain tohimself the cause of Bertha's continuous delays in giving her consentto her marriage with the Marquis of Chateauvieux. The latter, no lesswounded in his vanity than the Count of Plouernel felt wounded in hisfamily pride, shared his friend's fury and followed him, when, unableany longer to control himself, the Count dashed into the clearing.

  The Count of Plouernel drew his sword and with the flat of the bladestruck Nominoe across the face, crying:

  "Vile clown! That is for your having dared to raise your eyes toMademoiselle Plouernel--while you wait to be hanged from the gibbet!"

  Such was the violence of the blow that although it was given with theflat of the sword blood spurted out of Nominoe's cheek and forehead. Heemitted a terrible cry, and clenched his fists, but noticing a travelingcutlass hanging at Serdan's side he seized it and precipitated himselfupon the Count of Plouernel.

&nbs
p; "Count!" shouted the Marquis of Chateauvieux, also drawing his sword,"let us kill the vassal like a dog!"

  Salaun ran to the help of his son, who was attacked by two adversariesat once; jumped at the neck of the Marquis of Chateauvieux; threw him tothe ground; and, despite all the resistance that he offered, disarmedhim; while Nominoe, after dexterously parrying a blow aimed at him bythe Count of Plouernel, struck back so heavily with the reverse of thecutlass upon the Count's wrist that his hand was paralyzed and droppedthe sword. All this happened with the swiftness of thought. Despite theCount's conduct towards her, Mademoiselle Plouernel emitted a cry ofterror at the sight of her brother engaged in a hand-to-hand conflictwith Nominoe. At the risk of being struck by both in the heat of thecombat, she rushed forward to separate them. Trembling at the dangerthat the young girl ran, Serdan threw his arms around her and held herback. The girl uttered a piercing cry, staggered, became ashen pale; herhead fell backward, she fainted away overcome with terror, and wouldhave dropped to the ground but for Serdan holding her up and seating hergently upon the grass with her back supported by the old oak tree.Mademoiselle Plouernel had lost all consciousness. In the midst of thetumult, the forester guardsmen whom one of the Count's equerries hadgone in search of as ordered by his master, stepped upon the scene,armed with their muskets and hunting knives.

  "To me, guardsmen! Arrest these assassins! Do not kill them, I shallbring them to justice!" cried the Count of Plouernel, whom the blow ofNominoe's cutlass had rendered helpless, and who held his bleeding andmutilated right hand in his left, while Nominoe himself, seeing Berthalying unconscious at the foot of the old dead oak, flung away hiscutlass, and thinking only of Mademoiselle Plouernel, threw himself uponhis knees beside the young girl.

  At the call of their seigneur, the guardsmen, to the number of eight,rushed upon Salaun Lebrenn and Serdan. Disarmed by Nominoe, the lattercould offer no effective resistance to the men who sought to seize him.Salaun, however, drawing his mariner's sword, returned thrust forthrust to the guardsmen who attacked him, and called out to his son, whowas on his knees beside Bertha:

  "Up, Nominoe! Defend yourself! Let us defend ourselves!"

  Salaun's voice expired upon his lips. He was knocked down by a heavyblow, dealt from behind with the butt of a musket by one of theguardsmen while he fought two others in front, one of whom he succeededin wounding. Serdan was also floored, and then pinioned with theshoulder straps of the guardsmen, the same as Salaun, who had dropped tothe ground dazed by the blow which he received. Finally, Nominoe,delirious with grief, was, upon a sign from the Count of Plouernel tornfrom Bertha by the foresters. His mind seemed to wander. He allowedhimself to be bound without offering any resistance whatever.

  "Monseigneur," a lackey came and said to the Count of Plouernel, "Madamthe Marchioness and Monsieur the Abbot took a carriage to join in thesearch for mademoiselle; they met the equerry who was bringing theforester guardsmen; their carriage is near by; Madam the Marchionesssent me to receive monseigneur's orders."

  "Go and tell Monsieur the Abbot that I request him to come here withoutdelay. We need his services," the Count of Plouernel answered thelackey.

  And addressing the Marquis of Chateauvieux:

  "My friend, you will have to help the Abbot to transport my sister tothe carriage. I shall join you there--I can hardly hold myself on myfeet; I am losing so much blood that I am afraid I shall faint."

  Then, finally, turning to the three prisoners, who stood with loweringbrows, motionless and silent, and firmly bound, the Count cried:

  "Bandits! Murderers! I am vested with low and high judicial powers in myseigniory. You shall be tried to-night--and hanged to-morrow."

  "Marquis, were there not four of these brigands? I only see three. Whatbecame of the fourth?"

  "Indeed, it seems to me there were four of them--one of them had a whitevest on," answered the Marquis of Chateauvieux, remembering having seenMadok the miller, who, at the approach of the forester guardsmendisappeared in the thickest of the wood.

  "Monseigneur," said one of the foresters to the Count, "as we enteredthe clearing we saw a man flee through the copse; he was probably thecompanion of the prisoners, the one you are missing."

  "The wood will have to be beaten and the bandit found--he shall behanged with his accomplices."

  Abbot Boujaron arrived at that moment. He looked bewildered. He wasinformed of the tragic adventure and helped the Marquis of Chateauvieuxto transport to the carriage Mademoiselle Plouernel, who, pale andinert, seemed dead but for the convulsive tremors that shook her framefrom time to time. She was laid down upon the cushions of the carriagenear the Marchioness. The Count took a seat beside his sister, and thecarriage returned to the castle at full speed.

  Bertha was taken to her own apartment and locked up with her nurse. Shewas not to come out again but to be consigned to a cloister by orders ofthe King. Before nightfall, Serdan, Salaun Lebrenn and his son, whom theforesters led off, were separately imprisoned in the cells of themanor--the sumptuous Renaissance palace was furnished with itssubterranean prisons, the same as the ancient feudal dungeon, seeingthat the seigneur of the Seventeenth exercised, like his ancestor of theEleventh Century, the functions of high and low judicial magistrate.Reassured on the score of the wound received by the Count of Plouernel,the Marquis of Chateauvieux hastened to obey the orders of the Governorof Brittany, who summoned him to Rennes without delay, together with thetwo companies of his regiment; but he left, however, with the Count, forthe latter's security, the detachment of Sergeant La Montagne, which hehad summoned to Plouernel the day before.