The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXIII, Issue 2, 12 January 1905, Page 23

The Storyteller

THE BELL-RINGER OF GARLAU.

(QoHcliiidefcl from last welek.)

4 Fatlietr,' slaild JeaMie Louise on tihe evening of Easter Sfun/day, as they sat together eatwig their supper, ' they say Gapit may never come to himself again beljore he She vfbs veiry pale and her voice tremibied. She had shaken but little since the day before. He will sorely die, then ? ' inq,uired Pierre Mevel. ' So it is feaxeld.' ' Tsoo bad ! Grita Quesseveur has indeed been sorely afflicted.' ' She is aione, father.' ' No womeh tp help tier ? ' ' Ah, yes ! They are in and oiut, bXitmo one to sftay with her. May I go, fattier ? It will not oe •so hard flor her then.' ' Tio stay there, Jeanne Louise ? ' ' Yes, father.' 1 But y/ou khow what that wouJd seem to mean ? ' 1 Yes, father.' 4 That yow are tihe next tihing to being the wife of Gajpit— his betrothed ? ' 1 EaUhet, I lo\e Agapit Quevssevefur. I liave loved him iall my life. If he had not been unfortunate, you wduld ha^e given me to him, if he had asiked for me ? ' ' I woliltt htfve done so, my daughter. I said as much six years ago when he left for Morlaix.' 1 To him ? ' ' Yes, Wo him.' ' I did not know it. Still it makas no difference. Jla(d I not been siure yo*u would never give your consent, I shauld lHave married him even as he is. But I knew Hhat my first duty was to you. Whan foe begafn to get bettor I askad him to come ag-ain to Kergoz, hoping thiat In time you might not be averse to him as a husband Bor me. There is enough and to sipare for all, amd hfo widuld have been easier for him and happier for me. I will deny nothing. I loved him, I love him still. His misfortune is Nothing to me : I shall always love him. 1 beg that you will allow me to g 0 atfiid stay with his mother, arid help iher tio take oare of him till he dies.'

4 And if he should live, Jeanne Louise? What thfln ? ' ' Then it styall be as yo,u wisfli, fatther.' ' And who will take care of me w*hile yqu are gone 7' ' Jeanneton can (do everything necessary, as sho did w^hojn I was a child. T will write tjo you very often. Amd if you witfh, Pierrette can come over fr"om the dairy.'

' You may go, Joanne Louise,' said Pierre Mevel, after a moment's reflection. ' And the good God can take ca,re of. us all.'

Jeta(nne I.duise left the UalMe, gave some ditections to tihe wprused but kindly Jcannetion, p^ax*etl a small Uuflildle^ anld, in half an hour w.as walking briskly beside her fattier on the road from Kergorz to Garlaii. The widow wel|domc?d her as t'haug'h a(he were an angel from he^vdn, a,nd witlhout further ado the two women took up their watieh at the bedside of the .mncansci|o(us boy.

Aa one waking out of a dream, Agapit beg^n to realise wihlat was passing aroavrid him ; and with it came a, reivelatidn so astounding that it seemed to him he mu&t 'hlave died aitd come t)o life a^aiti. He had entirely recovered cons'ciio'us'ness, and this revellation had bejaome a certainty betore t A he two women were aware tlhat 'his brain ha/d ca,st aside tihe cloud which had onvel'opold it since his d'rea'dlul fall.

He spoke his first conscious wor,ds to tihe patient, living nnoWier, Who hung above his every breatjh ; and, after sjhe had wiped tihe tears from her eyes', .^he was hastening tell Jeanne Louise, husy at siometihing in the kitchen, whan ahe met tihe doctor face tio face and commjuaiiiCsated tio him the joyful news.

' He will live, he will get well,' said tihe physician, after a careful examination. ' The wound is healing ; no boino9 were broken. Take good care of him and feed >him well, Gritia. He will be ringing tihe bells for PontecOse, or I am no prophet.'

The good news alpreafd fast. Neighbor's came with Hhe>ir c(on#raturatiofnts, Pierre Mevel among them. But tor IMrty-.six hours after the announcement Agapit caught only dne fleetime; ghmjpse of Jqa,rtne Louise, as she btload on the threshold of his room, thinking him asleep. Tlnus seven days passqd, aflkl one morning he Bald to his mother :

' Do njot come in, or *do not let anyone cfome in for an hiotir. I wisih to be alone.'

' You will not try to get up or to dress yourself, Gapit '! The doctor said perhaps to-morrow, or next day, a-nd then I will help you.' 'I Go awiay, lifttle mother ! '• he said, affectionately kissing her toilworn hand. «Be not afraid, but do as I ask you ; and. to-morrow or next day, when the doctfor sjays I may get up, you slhall help me.' ' It us perhaps to make a thanksgiving ail alone that he wishes it,' she explained to Jeanne Louise in the kitchen ; 3Md the young girl agreed with her. A littdo more tharn an hour later sine was passing through the garden cljose to tihe window of the room wtcra A&ajpit lay. From his bed he cquld have touched the lowi sill. She did not look up, but he called her, ' Joanlnef Louise,' ho aa.id, ' will yo,u not como to to see me ? ' 'If yqu like, Agaipit,' she answered, still with 'head averted, as alhe passed swiftly from his sight. Hi,s eyes fixed on the door, he waited for her to appear ; Which sihe did very soon, lingering a moment on the threshold. He stretiehed out his hand. *< Gome here, Jeanne Louise,' he said ; ' come clpse to my bfld. 1 want to see you and talk to you.' She came and sat down beside him, nhinking that never, slave ih pictures of the saimts, had she seen anything half so beautiful as that pale face, amid its halo of clustering curls, against the dark background of the; old caxtved Breton closet bed. Her hps quivered, her eyes filled with tears. She could mot utter a word. But his voice wast calm as he asked : ' Jeanne Louise, why are you here ? ' 'T o help your motiher : she was, aU alftne, you kn(ow.' ' Amd yaur poor father ? He did npt obriect— he was willing, ? ' ' Yes, o(r I Should riot have come.' ' T/hjat was kind. Jeanne Louise, you are so ki|n*d, so very good ! But do you know what the people will sayi of you ? j 1 Yes, Agajut, I do know.' ' Ylotu tjTDMght I would die when y'o.u came— perhaps?' ' 1 did not know— l feared that you might.' Amd yet you were willing to be thought the betrotlhqdi of popr Gapit the cripple ? ' 1 Yes, Agajpit.' 1 That meant but one thing, than, Joanne Lloiuise ? ' She iuindelrsitoad him at once. ' But one tihfng,' she rejoined, a deep flush overspreading her pure, pale face. ' And it was true.' ' THat yqu Poved me ? ' ' That I loved you.' ' But nfow— now that I am not going to die ? ' ' '])U is I#ie same— if you wiah it.' 4 Ann your father ? '

' I cannot say. My heart he ca,nnot change, but he has the* power to order my life. .1 shall n(ot diebbey my fatilicr.'

' Afrid I shall not ask you t»o do so, Jeanne Louise. Wh'atJ I want now is to beg your pardon for ha-vihg darqd tto offer myself k> you at Kergoz on Gno o d Priflay. 1 bMio LookcJd a.t him mutely, hor eyes overflowing. Pdi/haps he read what was in her faithful heart— the conviction that he was renouncing hor forever, and that it gric/ved her.

' I ha,\e still something to say, Jeanne Louise,' he continued. ' Death has come too close for either to deny tihat we love each other— that if I were a man like other men, hale and sou rid, I should claim you for my wife. But I must tell you— l must let you kftow lust what I am, in order that you may decide if I be wortSiy of tihe love you -have given me. I haive been a wicked stoker, and you shall know my sin.' ' Yciu, Agapit ? I cannot believe it.' ' Yet I am going to tell you even before I confess it to Pero NaVagDd. When I left you that day, 1 restored t»o kill myself. How, I did not know— whether by throwing my miserable, useless body into tine river or in Home otiher way. The devil had entered my heart, and I 'diid not care what became of me. I oofeld not hare you fioc my wife and I was a Hurdan on my poor mother. That night as I lay in bed I resiolVed to tihrow myself fflom the little window -of the bell Slower when I wont o|p t|o riinig for the " Gloria in Excelsis " on Holy Satyunday. But as T mounted the stairs— were yo»i prayflng f °r me, Joanne Louise, in the cbjurch that moxhihg ? '

' Ah, fnldeqd yes, lor my heart was.fjill of you ! ' ' And my rrtother— l am the whole burtihen of her prayers, pdor "woman— she was praying fbr me, too. Well, as I 'asfcemded the stairs a sudden hornor of whlat I wag "abtout tjo do came over me. I grew afcraixL I >hatdd myself. I begged pardon of Giod far the great onence 1 had determined to commit against Him. I resolved Ho taike up t/he cross which had been laid Upon me aJWd hear it to tihe end of my life. And tlhem,

ii a *J wle komise, my soul felt exalted within me ■ I bceiar t^J** set free of a ni ghtmare. I rang the bells as ,1 haid nover done before, till—, suddenly the rope broke m ray hand and I fell backward, through the rotten, trapdoor, sixty feet to the grqund. T\he rest yo,u know—and yet not all : there is still something more. B-uU tell me first, Jeainne Louise, if this confession of my syn does not causte -yau to ihjate me ? ' ' Poor Agapit,' she said, ' only to love you better ! It wast p, temptation of the EVil One, and ydu overcame it. If you bad died from that terrible fall I think yquwiould h<vve gone straight to hea,\i>u.' 1 Yiau are an angel, Jean'ne Louise. But tihere is still sjometlvftng more. Say it agaim— siay tihat yo,u wouKd be willing to join your fortunes wiUh mine, cripple tihjat I ,am, if your father would give his consent ' I rcjpq&t it over and over, Agapit.' « 111 is a 'selfish thing to a3|k, but it warms my heart to (hear it from your dear lips.' , ,<. V^* ' as sihe &azed at him in mute astonishment, he lifted his head from the piilow, threw aside the bedcovers,, aWd springing, fully dressed, to his feet, he stfcod btefoare her, tlall, erect, well as he had over been, moving his lim/bp tihis way and tihat, walking from one side of the ro/omi Mo the other, as he cried out :

'•I ani tiurejd !— I am Cured, Jeanne Lonig© ! God has Worked # midajcle. The fall set in motion the stiffened 6prmg^ of my body ; and here I am, please Glod, ready at any, mlonnont to measure the distance between G-arliau and, tihq farm, to ask Pierre Mevcl for the sweet dove of KergOK ! '

At Higjh Mass qm Pentecost Sunday tthe people of Garlaju wefre aldvuseid of the publication of the be,nns of marriage between Agapit Quosseveiur, of that place amd Joirne Lojuise Meviel, of the Fajrm of Kergoz. 'If Vhqre is any person here present,' aj'd.dqd Pere NavafeoW, ' wiho knows of an impediment to this marriage, let him come forward an r d declare it immediately; otherwise he will incur; the penalties of Holy Church.' Tliiat no s^i/ch persian presenfed himself is ewitlent from tjhe ftict that for the la&it ton summers t4he writer of this sttory has Mpent his Brittamy vacation at tftie home) of Agjajpitt and Jeanne LdluLse, tjie piiofris, respected, and well-*belb^ad proprietors of the Farm of Kergoz — ' Aye Maria.'