It came to pass that as all these young people, Pol Bihan, Matheline,
and Sylvestre Ker, gained a year each time that twelve months rolled by,
they reached the age to think of marriage; and Josserande, one morning,
proceeded to the dwelling of the farmer of Coat-Dor to ask the hand of
Matheline for her son, Sylvestre Ker; at which proposal Matheline opened
her rosy mouth so wide, to laugh the louder, that far back she showed
two pearls which had never before been seen.
When her father asked her if the offer suited her, she replied, "Yes,
father and godmother, provided that Sylvestre Ker gives me a gown of
cloth of silver embroidered with rubies, like that of the Lady of
Lannelar, and that Pol Bihan may be our groomsman."
Pol, who was there, also laughed, and said, "I will assuredly be
groomsman to my friend Sylvestre Ker, if he consents to give me a velvet
mantle striped with gold, like that of the Castellan of Gâvre, the Lord
of Carnac."
Whereupon Josserande returned to the tower, and said to her son, "Ker,
my darling, I advise you to choose another friend and another bride;
for those two are not worthy of your love."
But the young man began to sigh and groan, and answered, "No friendship
or love will I ever know except for Pol, my dear comrade, and Matheline,
your god-daughter, my beautiful playfellow."
And Josserande having told him of the two new pearls that Matheline had
shown in the back of her mouth, nothing would do but he must hurry to
Coat-Dor to try and see them, also.
On the road from the tower to the farm of Coat-Dor is the Point of
Hinnic, where the grass is salt, which makes the cows and rams very
fierce while they are grazing.
As Sylvestre Ker walked down the path at the end of which is the Cross
of St. Cado, he saw, on the summit of the promontory, Pol and Matheline
strolling along, talking and laughing; so he thought,--
"I need not go far to see Matheline's two pearls."
And, in fact, the girl's merry laughter could be heard below, for it
always burst forth if Pol did but open his lips. When, lo, and behold! a
huge old ram, which had been browsing on the salt grass, tossed back his
two horns, and, fuming at the nostrils, bleated as loud as the stags
cry when chased, and rushed in the direction of Matheline's voice; for,
as every one knows, the rams become furious if laughter is heard in
their meadow.
He ran quickly, but Sylvestre Ker ran still faster, and arrived the
first by the girl, so that he received the shock of the ram's butting
while protecting her with his body. The injury was not very great, only
his right eye was touched by the curved end of one of the horns when the
ram raised his head, and thus Sylvestre Ker became one-eyed.
The ram, prevented from slaughtering Matheline, dashed after Pol Bihan,
who fled; reached him just at the end of the cliff, and pushed him into
the sea, that beat against the rocks fifty feet below.
Well content with his work, the ram walked off, and the legend says he
laughed behind his woolly beard.