For six days they were husband and wife. In this time of leave-takingthe preparations for the Iceland season occupied everybody. The womenheaped up the salt for the pickle in the holds of the vessels; the mensaw to the masts and rigging. Yann's mother and sisters worked frommorning till night at the making of the sou'westers and oilskinwaterproofs.

　　The weather was dull, and the sea, forefeeling the approach of theequinoctial gales, was restless and heaving.

　　Gaud went through these inexorable preparations with agony; countingthe fleeting hours of the day, and looking forward to the night, whenthe work was over, and she would have her Yann to herself.

　　Would he leave her every year in this way?

　　She hoped to be able to keep him back, but she did not dare to speakto him about this wish as yet. He loved her passionately, too; henever had known anything like this affection before; it was such afresh, trusting tenderness that the same caresses and fondlings alwaysseemed as if novel and unknown heretofore; and their intoxication oflove continued to increase, and never seemed--never was satiated.

　　What charmed and surprised her in her mate was his tenderness andboyishness. This the Yann in love, whom she had sometimes seen atPaimpol most contemptuous towards the girls. On the contrary, to herhe always maintained that kindly courtesy that seemed natural to him,and she adored that beautiful smile that came to him whenever theireyes met. Among these simple folk there exists the feeling of absoluterespect for the dignity of the wife; there is an ocean between her andthe sweetheart. Gaud was essentially the wife. She was sorely troubledin her happiness, however, for it seemed something too unhoped for, asunstable as a joyful dream. Besides, would this love be lasting inYann? She remembered sometimes his former flames, his fancies anddifferent love adventures, and then she grew fearful. Would he alwayscherish that infinite tenderness and sweet respect for her?

　　Six days of a wedded life, for such a love as theirs, was nothing;only a fevered instalment taken from the married life term, whichmight be so long before them yet! They had scarcely had leisure to betogether at all and understand that they really belonged to oneanother. All their plans of life together, of peaceful joy, andsettling down, was forcedly put off till the fisherman's return.

　　No! at any price she would stop him from going to this dreadfulIceland another year! But how should she manage? And what could theydo for a livelihood, being both so poor? Then again he so dearly lovedthe sea. But in spite of all, she would try and keep him home anotherseason; she would use all her power, intelligence, and heart to do so.

　　Was she to be the wife of an Icelander, to watch each spring-tideapproach with sadness, and pass the whole summer in painful anxiety?

　　no, now that she loved him, above everything that she could imagine,she felt seized with an immense terror at the thought of years to comethus robbed of the better part.

　　They had one spring day together--only one. It was the day before thesailing; all the stores had been shipped, and Yann remained the wholeday with her. They strolled along, arm-in-arm, through the lanes, likesweethearts again, very close to one another, murmuring a thousandtender things. The good folk smiled, as they saw them pass, saying:

　　"It's Gaud, with long Yann from Pors-Even. They were married onlyt'other day!"This last day was really spring. It was strange and wonderful tobehold this universal serenity. Not a single cloud marred the latelyflecked sky. The wind did not blow anywhere. The sea had become quitetranquil, and was of a pale, even blue tint. The sun shone withglaring white brilliancy, and the rough Breton land seemed bathed inits light, as in a rare, delicate ether; it seemed to brighten andrevive even in the utmost distance. The air had a delicious, balmyscent, as of summer itself, and seemed as if it were always going toremain so, and never know any more gloomy, thunderous days. The capesand bays over which the changeful shadows of the clouds no longerpassed, were outlined in strong steady lines in the sunlight, andappeared to rest also in the long-during calm. All this made theirloving festival sweeter and longer drawn out. The early flowersalready appeared: primroses, and frail, scentless violets grew alongthe hedgerows.

　　When Gaud asked: "How long then are you going to love me, Yann?"He answered, surprisedly, looking at her full in the face with hisfrank eyes: "Why, for ever, Gaud."That word, spoken so simply by his fierce lips, seemed to............