Two o'clock in the morning.

　　It was at night, especially, that she kept attentive to approachingfootsteps; at the slightest rumour or unaccustomed noise her templesvibrated; by dint of being strained to outward things, they had becomefearfully sensitive.

　　Two o'clock in the morning. On this night as on others, with her handsclasped and her eyes wide open in the dark, she listened to the wind,sweeping in never-ending tumult over the heath.

　　Suddenly a man's footsteps hurried along the path! At this hour whowould pass now? She drew herself up, stirred to the very soul, herheart ceasing to beat.

　　Some one stopped before the door, and came up the small stone steps.

　　He!--O God!--he! Some one had knocked--it could be no other than he!

　　She was up now, barefooted; she, so feeble for the last few days, hadsprung up as nimbly as a kitten, with her arms outstretched to windround her darling. Of course the /Leopoldine/ had arrived at night,and anchored in Pors-Even Bay, and he had rushed home; she arrangedall this in her mind with the swiftness of lightning. She tore theflesh off her fingers in her excitement to draw the bolt, which hadstuck.

　　"Eh?"She slowly moved backward, as if crushed, her head falling on herbosom. Her beautiful insane dream was over. She just could grasp thatit was not her husband, her Yann, and that nothing of him, substantialor spiritual, had passed through the air; she felt plunged again intoher deep abyss, to the lowest depths of her terrible despair.

　　Poor Fantec, for it was he, stammered many excuses, his wife was veryill, and their child was stifling in its cot, suddenly attacked with amalignant sore throat; so he had run over to beg for assistance on theroad to fetch the doctor from Paimpol.

　　What did all this matter to her? She had gone mad in her own distress,and could give no thoughts to the troubles of others. Huddled on abench, she remained before him with fixed, glazed eyes, like a deadwoman's; without listening to him or even answering at random orlooking at him. What to her was the speech the man was making?

　　He understood it all; and guessed why the door had been opened soquickly to him, and feeling pity for the pain he had unwittinglycaused, he stammered out an excuse.

　　"Just so; he never had ought to have disturbed her--her inparticular.""I!" ejaculated Gaud, quickly, "why should I not be disturbedparticularly, Fantec?"Life had suddenly come back to her; for she did not wish to appear indespair before others. Besides, she pitied him now; she dressed toaccompany him, and found the strength to go and see to his littlechild.

　　At four o'clock in the morning, when she returned to throw herself onthe bed, sleep subdued her, for she was tired out. But that moment ofexcessive joy had left an impression on her mind, which, in spite ofall, was permanent; she awoke soon with a shudder, rising a little andpartially recollecting--she knew not what. News had come to herconcerning her Yann. In the midst of her confusion of ideas, shesought rapidly in her mind what it could be, but there was nothingsave Fantec's interruption.

　　For the second time she fell back into her terrible abyss, nothingchanged in her morbid, hopeless waiting.

　　Yet in that short, hopeful moment she had felt him so near to her,that it was as if his spirit had floated over the sea unto her, whatis called a foretoken (/pressigne/) in Breton land; and she listenedstill more attentively to the steps outside, trusting that some onemight come to her to speak of him.

　　Just as the day broke Yann's............