The wedding breakfast was given at Yann's parents', because Gaud'shome was so poor. It took place upstairs in the great new room. Five-and-twenty guests sat down round the newly married pair--sisters andbrothers, cousin Gaos the pilot, Guermeur, Keraez, Yvon Duff, all ofthe old /Marie's/ crew, who were now the /Leopoldine's/; four verypretty bridesmaids, with their hair-plaits wound round their ears,like the empresses' in ancient Byzantium, and their modern white caps,shaped like sea-shells; and four best men, all broad-shoulderedIcelanders, with large proud eyes.

　　Downstairs, of course, there was eating and cooking going on; thewhole train of the wedding procession had gathered there in disorder;and the extra servants, hired from Paimpol, well-nigh lost theirsenses before the mighty lumbering up of the capacious hearth withpots and pans.

　　Yann's parents would have wished a richer wife for their son,naturally, but Gaud was known now as a good, courageous girl; andthen, in spite of her lost fortune, she was the greatest beauty in thecountry, and it flattered them to see the couple so well matched.

　　The old father was inclined to be merry after the soup, and spoke ofthe bringing up of his fourteen little Gaoses; but they were all doingwell, thanks to the ten thousand francs that had made them well off.

　　Neighbour Guermeur related the tricks he played in the navy, yarnsabout China, the West Indies, and Brazil, making the young ones whowould be off some day, open their eyes in wonderment.

　　"There is a cry against the sea-service," said the old sailor,laughing, "but a man can have fine fun in it."The weather did not clear up; on the contrary, the wind and rain ragedthrough the gloomy night; and in spite of the care taken, some of theguests were fidgety about their smacks anchored in the harbour, andspoke of getting up to go and see if all was right. But here a morejovial sound than ever was heard from downstairs, where the youngermembers of the party were supping together; cheers of joy and peals oflaughter ascended. The little cousins were beginning to feelexhilarated by the cider.

　　Boiled and roasted meats had been served up with poultry, differentkinds of fish, omelets and pancakes.

　　The debate had turned upon fishery and smuggling, and the best meansof fooling the coast-guardsmen, who, as we all know, are the swornenemies of honest seafarers.

　　Upstairs, at the grand table, old circumnavigators went so far as torelate droll stories, in the vernacular.

　　But the wind was raging altogether too strong; for the windows shookwith a terrible clatter, and the man telling the tale had hurriedlyended to go and see to his smack.

　　Then another went on: "When I was bo's'n's mate aboard of the/Zenobie/, a-lying at Aden, and a-doing the duty of a corporal ofmarines, by the same token, you ought to ha' seen the ostridge feathertraders a-trying to scramble up over the side. [/Imitating the brokentalk/] 'Bon-joo, cap'n! we're not thiefs--we're honest merchants'--Honest, my eye! with a sweep of the bucket, a purtending to draw somewater up, I sent 'em all flying back an oar's length. 'Honestmerchants, are ye,' says I, 'then send us up a bunch of honestfeathers first--with a hard dollar or two in the core of it, d'ye see,and then I'll believe in your honesty!' Why, I could ha' made myfortun' out of them beggars, if I hadn't been born and brought uphonest myself, and but a sucking-dove in wisdom, saying nothing of myhaving a sweetheart at Toulon in the millinery line, who could haveused any quantity of feathers----"Ha! here's one of Yann's little brothers, a future Iceland fisherman,with a fresh pink face and bright eyes, who is suddenly taken ill fromhaving drunk too much cider. So little Laumec has to be carried off,which cuts short the story of the milliner and the feathers.

　　The wind wailed in the chimney like an evil spirit in torment; withfearful strength, it shook the whole house on its stone foundation.

　　"It strikes me the wind is stirred up, acos we're enjoying ofourselves," said the pilot cousin.

　　"No, it's the sea that's wrathy," corrected Yann, smiling at Gaud,"because I'd promised I'd be wedded to /her/."A strange languor seemed to envelop them both; they spoke to oneanother in a low voice, apart, in the midst of the general gaiety.

　　Yann, knowing thoroughly the effect of wine, did not drink at all. Nowand then he turned dull too, thinking of Sylvestre. It was anunderstood thing that there was to be no dancing, on account of himand of Gaud's dead father.

　　It was the dessert now; the singing would soon begin. But first therewere the prayers to say, for the dead of the family; this form isnever omitted, at all wedding-feasts, and is a solemn duty. So whenold Gaos rose and uncovered his white head, there was a dead silencearound.

　　"This," said he, "is for Guillaume Gaos, my father." Making the signof the cross, he began the Lord's prayer in Latin: "/Pater noster, quies in coelis, sanctificetur nomen tumm/----"The silence included all, even to the joyful little ones downstairs,and every voice was repeating in an undertone the same eternal words.

　　"This is for Yves and Jean Gaos, my two brothers, who were lost in theSea of Iceland. This is for Pierre Gaos, my son, shipwrecked aboardthe /Zelie/." When all the dead Gaoses had had their prayers, heturned towards grandmother Moan, saying, "This one is for SylvestreMoan."Yann wept as he recited another prayer.

　　"/Sed libera nos a malo. Amen/!"Then the songs began; sea-songs learned in the navy, on theforecastle, where we all know there are rare good vocalists.

　　"/Un noble corps, pas moins que celui des Zouaves/," etc.

　　A noble and a gallant ladThe Zouave is, we know,But, capping him for bravery,The sailor stands, I trow.

　　Hurrah, hurrah! long life to him,Whose glory never can grow dim!

　　This was sung by one of the bride's supporters, in a feeling tone thatwent to the soul; and the chorus was taken up by other fine, manlyvoices.

　　But the newly wedded pair seemed to listen as from a distance. Whenthey looked at one another, their eyes shone with dulled brilliance,like that of transparently shaded lamps. They spoke in even a lowervoice, and still held each other's hands. Gaud bent her head, too,gradually overcome by a vast, delightful terror, before her master.

　　The pilot cousin went around the table, serving out a wine of his own;he had brought it with much care, hugging and patting the bottle,which ought not to be shaken, he said. He told the story of it. Oneday out fishing they saw a cask a-floating; it was too big to haul onboard, so they had stove in the head and filled all the pots and pansthey had, with most of its contents. It was impossible to take all, sothey had signalled to other pilots and fishers, and all the sails insight had flocked round the flotsam.

　　"And I know mo............