Our horns have caught that blow

One morning, at three, when they were dreaming of a mist under their nose, there was a speech that seemed very strange to a stranger. Those who were on the deck looked at each other with the most demanding eyes:

– Who talked?

No one, no one had ever tried anything.

And the sound really seemed to come from the empty space.

The one whose task was to feed the horn and who had neglected it from yesterday, hijacked it in his hand and bulged his lungs, to blow up a very long warning.

Even that voice alone is a harsh back in silence. Then, as the conjuring up of this recruiting horn came out, a large, unexpected, gray phenomenon appeared, threatening to rise high close to them: it had masts, rough, ropes, a full ship image that suddenly, completely came out clearly, as scarecrows, with the only beam of light dressed in tight clothes. And other men appeared so dirty that they could be touched, they leaned against the edge of the boat, and looked at them, as if they were frightened and astonished by the awakening…

They got access to the oars, the reserve masts and the biscuits – what was available long and strong – and put them out on the edge to keep the upcoming phenomenon and visitors away. Others, too frightened, pulled out the big bars, to push them back.

But the green trees but the little ones racing above them, and the masts, which for a moment had grasped each other, immediately separated easily; because it was quite calm, a collision was avoided: they pushed each other so lightly when the other ship wasn’t a solid mass, just something soft, almost weightless …

When the danger was over, the men began to laugh; they knew each other:

– Oh! “Marian” men!

– What! Gaos, Laumek, Guermeur!

The phenomenon was “Reine-Berthe”, Captain Larvoër, it was also Paimpol; The sailors were from nearby villages: a large black-haired whose teeth were laughing, it was Kerjégou, Ploudaniel, others were Plounés and Plounérin.

– But why didn’t you play it out? asked Larvoër
“Reine-Berthen” from the deck.
– What about you then! its pirates, its seashells ?…

– Is that a different thing, we have been banned from noise . (He replied, as if what the dark secret in these words was hiding, so he laughed so hysterically that it was often remembered by “Mary” and it gave a lot of thought).

And then, as if he had said too much, he stopped with the play:

– Our horns have caught that blow.

And he showed a man with a face to face with a sea monster, and a thick neck and wide chest, which was a shoulder and a short leg and looked horrible.

And as they looked at each other and waited for a gust of wind or a pull that would have shifted the other faster than playing and separating the ships, they began to discuss. On the basis of all against the side, and interference from the long puukangillaan, they talked the home side to catch up, the last of the letters that had received “luovijasta”, the old parents and wives.

– My wife, Kerjégou, said she’d received the little one we’ve been waiting for, and then she’s a dozen soon.

The other one had twins and the third said that the beautiful Jeannie Caroff – whom the girl’s Icelanders knew well – had married a rich, painful man from the Plourivo district.

They saw each other through a white mist, and it was like it would have changed the voice that seemed strange.

Meanwhile, Yann couldn’t turn his eyes on a fisherman, he was a small, old-fashioned man, he knew he’d never seen that man before, and yet he immediately said, “Day, great Yann!” and very familiar; it looked like a maracin and waved his nasty piercing eyes ceaselessly.

– For me, Larvoër, “Reine-Berthe,” said that the grandson of Yvonne Moan, the old ploubazlanekek, has died, he served, as you know, his military service in the Chinese navy, the damage to the boy!

After hearing it, other “Marian” men looked at Yanni to see if he knew this sad message:

– Yes, he said with a low voice, indifferent and proud, the last letter the father told about it.

They watched him all, fooling his grief and annoying him.

They quickly called through the light mist while the minutes of their strange reunion had gone.

“My wife tells me at the same time, Larvoër went on to say that Mr Mate’s daughter has moved from town to Ploubazlanek; he is now on duty in order to support his life. By the way, that’s what I always I had thought that he would be brave and decent girl, in spite of their ornaments.

Again, they looked at Yanni, who began to get angry, and the dark red rose on his brown cheeks.

This ended with a conversation with the “Reine-Berthen” people who were not seen by any living creature thereafter. For a moment they had been more unclear, because their ship was no longer so dirty, and suddenly the “Mary” population noticed that they had nothing to push out, no longer at the end of the long wooden bars, they grabbed the empty air with their biscuits, their oats, their masts and their limbs and they fell one after another, splashing into the sea, like the loose arms. They were pulled into the ship when they were no longer needed. “Keine-Berthe” had drifted into a dense fog, it had disappeared suddenly, like a transparent image behind which the lamp was extinguished. They were trying to shout to them, but they didn’t get the answer – it was a strange, multi-polar, jerky joke that ended in the complaint,

“Reine-Berthe” did not return when other Icelanders, and when the “Samuel-Azéniden” men in a fjord discovered certain remains of it (aft side and part of the keel), was no longer expected it, in October of all the seamen’s names were drawn black Sketches, which were set to church .

But when it was last seen, the “Mary” population had exactly remembered the date, right up to the return period, – there was no more dangerous storm in the Icelandic sea, contrary to three weeks earlier, the western gust of the sea had rinsed several men and destroyed two ships. Then they still remembered Larvoër’s laughter, and by combining all the things they got strange conclusions. Often, Yann remembered the night and the sailor who waved his eyes to the apostate: and sometimes the men of Mary struggled to think they might have talked to the dead that morning.

The summer passed by the end of August, during the first mornings the Icelanders returned.

For three months, both unsafe had already lived in one of Ploubazlanek’s Moan’s cottages; Gaud fulfilled his daughter’s duties in a poor, empty seaman’s nest. He had brought everything he had left to him, when his father’s house was littered with his beautiful city bed and his beautiful, different colored skirt. She had herself sewn on a very simple piece of black dress, and she liked Yvonne’s mourning head, a thick muslin and decorated only with folds.

Every day he went to the city to sew wealthy people and came home late at night, and no lover disturbed him on the way, he was still a little proud, and was treated like a gentleman, when he greeted the boys as before.

On beautiful summer evenings, she returned to Paimpol along the seafront, breathing in the refreshing air of the sea. The sewing work had not yet been able to frustrate him, like others who are living all their time in bending as he watched the sea, he straightened his beautiful, naked body, which he had inherited from the fisherman, – when he looked at the sea, looked distant to the top where Yann was …

The same road took her home. If he had continued his journey on a small, thunderstorm that was even more rocky, where the winds could still blow, he would have come to the village of Pors-Even, where gray, mossy trees grow only low between the rocks, and hook their back to the winds of the west wind.

Probably he would never return to Pors-Even, even though there was no more to go there, but he was there once in his life, and that was enough to make the whole road go. Yann, by the way, probably wandered it often, and Gaud could see at his door as he went down the low fabric between the shallow bushes. That is why he loved the whole region of Ploubazlanek; he almost rejoiced that his destiny had thrown him to live there, as it was the only place in the world where life had not become unbearable.

At that time of the year, late August, they will have the heavy hot air coming from the south; The evenings are brilliantly bright, as the warmer suns of southern countries are always reflected on the Brittany seashore. The air is often bright and calm, there is no cloud in the sky.

When Gaud returned home in the evening, the night’s twilight began to obscure and the objects began to melt into vague shadows. There, there was a ajonc shrub with a stone drumstick, like a fluffy feathers, a blurred group of curvy trees in the valley, or a somewhat hollow shadow, somebody’s shed roof. At the crossroads, the old Christ images that protected the community, spread their black arms on a cross tree, and they looked like real crucified people, and far from the Channel, it was a yellow mirror under the sky that began to gloat and go down the clouds. But the calm, beautiful weather was so sad about them; everywhere, even then, the strange restlessness, such as fearlessness, was born, the sea that had so many lives entrusted to it,

Gaudi, who in his thoughts went down the road, was never long enough in the fresh air. He felt the salty smell of the sea urchin and the sweet smell of a few small flowers that grew on the beaches among the dry burdock. If the Yvonne moraine hadn’t been waiting at home, he would have stayed between the riding bushes on sloping paths, as gentlemen do, who would love to dine in the summer evenings.

During these trips, he was often reminded of earlier childhood times; but they were so far away, so obscure, their love had dispelled them. Despite all that had happened, in his thoughts, he kept Yanna a fiancee, – a proud fiancé who avoided him and despised him, which he would never become, but to whom he was persistently loyal, but he never spoke to anyone. At that time it was good for him that Yann was in Iceland, where the sea was guarded by him, as if he had been in a monastery, he could not be attached to anyone else…

He had to return after a few days, but he waited for him to come home more quietly before. He instinctively understood that Yann would not despise him because of his poverty, for Yann was not like others.

– And then the death of Sylvestre’s hell was something that would probably bring them closer to each other. After coming home, Yann probably won’t be coming to greet his friend’s grandmother: Gaud had decided to be at home then, it wouldn’t be worthy of him; he was going to be like he wouldn’t remember, he was going to talk to someone he’s known for a long time; he would gently talk like Sylvestre’s brother, he would try to be quite natural. And maybe? maybe it was not impossible to reach the sister’s position with her, now that she was so alone in the world: to resort to her friendship, to ask her so confident, to speak so clearly that she wouldn’t think she was hiding behind her getting into marriage. Gaud thought about him, but he was shy, that he persisted, wanted to remain independent,

What did Yann feel when he saw Gaudi poor, in this shack? Poor poor! for Moah’s body was no longer able to go to work, to wash, nor to have the widow’s pension; though he did not eat much more now, and they could get along without asking for help from anyone.

There was always a night when he came home; Before reaching the cottage, he had to step down the rock that had passed down, as it was down the Ploubazlanek road, on the sea-side slope. A thick, brown straw roof almost completely hid it, a roof that was very complicated, and looked like a big, dead animal that had been squeaked under its rough coat. The walls were dark and hard when the rocks, mosses and lichens formed green spots on it. The threshold was three complicated steps, and the latch inside the door was opened by pulling a rope that came out of the hole. When he came in, he first saw the window opposite the door, it was deep as a shooting hole, and it was facing the sea, which still showed a little light, yellow light. The firewood burned with a smell of spruce and beech fires, The Yvonne morsel gathered along the road, he sat by the fire and prepared their scarce dinner, inside he only had a cap away, because he wanted to save his headgear, his beautiful facial features depicted against the red flame of fire. He looked at Gaud with his eyes, who had been brown before, but now looked dull, blue-tinged, they no longer seemed to see anything but were obscure and weakened by old age. Every time he said the same words: blue, they no longer seemed to see anything, but were obscure and weakened by old age. Every time he said the same words: blue, they no longer seemed to see anything, but were obscure and weakened by old age. Every time he said the same words:

– Oh goodbye when you come late tonight, girl gold…

– By no means, Gorm, who was used to it, gently answered. At the same time as other days.

– To the crown, I felt like it would be normal for later.

They ate their dinner at the table, which was almost deformed, but it was still thick when the big oak body. And Sirkka always called them a ringing silver ringing ring for them.

The other wall of the cottage was filled with coarse-wooded, now-worn-out wooden cabinets, with avalanches, where several fishing generations were born and slept, and the old mother was dead.

The black horns had old financial instruments, herbal bouquets, wooden spoons, smoked ham: and still old nets that were not used there until the drowning of Moan’s last sons, and whose straps mocked at night.

The Gaudi bed, which was whitewashed in a corner with muslim extravaganza, looked handsome and new in this Celtic house.

The granite wall had a photograph inside the frames that depicted Sylvestre as a sailor. His grandmother had attached his honorary money and an anchor pair of red blood, which the sailors hold on their right sleeve, and who had been his own; Gaud had bought a wreath made of black and white pearls from Paimpol, one set in Brittany around the deceased. It was his tombstone, all that was in his memory dedicated to his own Bretagne.

In the summer, they did not control the time to save the candles; When the air was beautiful, they sat for a moment on the stone bench in the mouth of the door and looked at the people who were going along the road above them.

Then the old Yvonne went to lie down on his stallion, and Gaud’s master bed; he soon slept because he had done a lot of work and stepped in, and when he was asleep, he thought of the arrival of the Icelanders, he was a wise and sensible girl, and did not worry too much.