ed as if
novel and unknown heretofore; and their intoxication of love continued
to increase, and never seemed--never was satiated.

What charmed and surprised her in her mate was his tenderness and
boyishness. This the Yann in love, whom she had sometimes seen at
Paimpol most contemptuous towards the girls. On the contrary, to her he
always maintained that kindly courtesy that seemed natural to him, and
she adored that beautiful smile that came to him whenever their eyes
met. Among these simple folk there exists the feeling of absolute
respect for the dignity of the wife; there is an ocean between her and
the sweetheart. Gaud was essentially the wife. She was sorely troubled
in her happiness, however, for it seemed something too unhoped for, as
unstable as a joyful dream. Besides, would this love be lasting in Yann?
She remembered sometimes his former flames, his fancies and different
love adventures, and then she grew fearful. Would he always cherish 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, which might be
so long before them yet! They had scarcely had leisure to be together at
all and understand that they really belonged to one another. All their
plans of life together, of peaceful joy, and settling down, was forcedly
put off till the fisherman's return.

No! at any price she would stop him from going to this dreadful Iceland
another year! But how should she manage? And what could they do for a
livelihood, being both so poor? Then again he so dearly loved the sea.
But in spite of all, she would try and keep him home another season; 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-tide approach 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 come thus robbed of the
better part.

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

"It's Gaud, with long Yann from Pors-Even.