SPRINGTIDE.
The second week of April was extremely mild throughout the Marais of
La Vendee; Spring was at hand. The first to announce its coming were
the blackthorns and willows; they were not yet in blossom but in bud.
And those buds which precede the blossoms have a perfume of their
own--the whole country side was permeated with it. In the low-lying
meadows, from which the water had retired, flowering moss was sending
up its slender heads amid the fresh blades of grass. The plover was
making its nest. Horses, turned out to grass, were enjoying their
gallops on sunny banks, once more dry and firm. Pools were blue as the
clouds were white, because Spring was coming.
On an afternoon of that happy week when all life was young again,
Toussaint Lumineau, standing at his gate, was awaiting the return of
the eldest Michelonne, whom, a week ago, he had sent on a mission to
the town of Chatelliers. For she had written him that her quest had
been successful, and that she was bringing back from the Bocage the
humble labourer who was to be Rousille's husband, the mainstay and
eventually the master of La Fromentiere. That morning Veronique had
come to fetch Rousille to go and meet the travellers, and now the time
was approaching when the tilted cart drawn by La Rousse should have
rounded the corner and appeared at the foot of the hill between the
two corn-fields swaying in the breeze.
The farmer stood waiting on his own domain, leaning on the gate which,
alas! had opened to let forth, without return, all the sons of La
Fromentiere, and which he, himself, would now open to let in the
new-comers. Truly his heart was sad. Life had treated him hardly; the
future was not reassuring. Would not the land soon be sold and left to
chance? At the very moment that he was about to welcome those who
should succeed him, could Toussaint Lumineau chase away the thought
that the long traditions of bygone generations were coming to an end,
and that, inseparable for centuries, his family name and that of the
farm would no longer be one and the same? However, he was too old, and
came of too good a stock to surrender hope. The blood that coursed in
his veins contained, like wheat, something of eternal youth. It might
be deemed dead, it sprang to life again.
A dull, rapid thud, like the sound of men threshing, smote on the
balmy air. Toussaint Lumineau recognised his mare's pace. She was
coming at a gallop, as when returning from fairs, or fetes, or
weddings.
He raised his head. Once more he felt within him the courage to live
on, and turning towards the road where the old trees were putting on
their fresh glad verdure, knowing that beyond them joy was hastening
to him, he took off his hat, and with outstretched arms said:
"Come, my Rousille, with your Jean Nesmy."
THE END.
_Jarrold and Sons, The Empire Press, Norwich and London._
=Selections from
Jarrold & Sons'
List of Fiction=
=Maurus Jokai's Famous Novels.=
_Authorised Editions. Crown 8vo, Art Linen, 6/- each._
=Black Diamonds.= (_Fifth Edition._)
By MAURUS JOKAI, Author of "The Green Book," "Poor Plutocrats,"
etc. Translated by Frances Gerard. With Special Preface by the
Author.
"Full of vigour ... his touches of humour are
excellent."--_Morning Post._
"An interesting story."--_Times._
=The Green Book.= (FREEDOM UNDER THE SNOW.) (_Sixth Edition._)
By MAURUS JOKAI. Translated by Mrs. Waugh. With a finely engraved
Portrait of Dr. Jokai.
"Brilliantly drawn ... a book to be read."--_Daily Chronicle._
"Thoroughly calculated to charm the novel-reading public by its
ceaseless excitement ... from first to last the interest never
flags. A work of the most exciting interests and superb
descriptions."--_Athenaeum._
=Pretty Michal.= (_Fourth Edition._)
By MAURUS JOKAI. Translated by R. Nisbet Bain. With a specially
engraved Photogravure Portrait of Dr. Jokai.
"A fascinating novel."--_The Speaker._
"His workmanship is admirable, and he possesses a degree of
sympathetic imagination not surpassed by any living novelist. The
action of his stories is life-like, and full of movement and
interest."--_Westminster Gazette._
=A Hungarian Nabob.= (_Fifth Edition._)
By MAURUS JOKAI. Translated by R. Nisbet Bain.
With a fine Photogravure Portrait of Dr. Jokai.
"Full of exciting incidents and masterly studies of
character."--_Court Circular._
"The work of a genius."--_Pall Mall Gazette._