The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1881-01-13
CHAPTER XI.
HOME.

Yves had been for several days on
board the ship in which he had sailed
from Bristol. The heaviiy-laden YES
sci was bound for Cherbourg, and it
was to put in at the little seaport
town below He Brehat.
At first Yves had suffered greatly,
being bad sailor; he was tormented
too with the thought of Eileen's sor-
row; but after they had passed Brehat,
and when he saw the grey ruins in the
bay, and soon after, rising behind
them, the spire of his. native church,
he forgot all suffering, and his heart
swelled with joy.
At last the vessel entered the inner
harbor, and after some delay landed
its passengers. Yves fell on his knees
as soon as he reached the quay, and
thanked the Blessed Virgin and his
patron, Saint Yves, for his safe re-
turn.
AS he hurries into the town, his sad
presentiments vanish. It seems as if
each time his feet press the beloved
soil, his heart receives fresh strength.
The last few months, even the
thought Of Eileen and her sorrow,
fade away like night vision; he is at
home at last. Nothing can keep Lis
zen from him now.
He goes along quickly, and he looks
in the face of each person he meets,
but all are strange to him; his pulses
throb with expectation.
There is only one principal street in
the little town, and the widow Perrlk's s
house is in turning that leads out of
this. Yves's heart beats fast as he
approaches it. How sweet and pure
the air is, he thinks-how freely one
breathes! He stops few doors off.
Shall he go first to one of the neigh
bors? No, there will be the risk that
some one may see him and carry to
Liszen the news of his return.
But he goes slowly now; he does
not know why, but fear is taking the
place of hope.
He is in sight Of the house, and all
at once he stands still, gazing.
Liszen is there sitting at the win
dow, but she does not see Yves. She
sits looking sadly at her canary, while
her sewing hangs idly between her
fingers. All, how sad and worn she
looks, and how the light has faded
from her dark-blue eyes! They are
pale, and so is her sweet face; it looks
wan beside the white edge Of her cap.
The half-door Of the house is not
fastened; Yves pushes it open, bends
his head under the low, rounded en-
trance, and now he is in the roem
with Liszen.
She has heard his approach, and
she stands an instant gazing with
wide-open eyes and parted lips, as if
she saw a ghost. And then, with a
low cry. she stumbles across the floor
to meet Yves, and falls sobbing on
his breast
They stand silent, clasping one an
other closely; they cannot speak.
At last Yves says gently
''Llszen! my poor Liszen!'' in the
Breton words so long unspoken. He
puts her back from him little, and
looks at her face. and then. claspmg
her yet more tenderly, he presses his
lips to hers.
She cannot speak, for at first her
sobs are like to choke her, but soon
they lose their bitterness, as she reali-
yes the great joy that has come. She
has never doubted Yves, but it seems
more than she deserves that he has
come back to her as true and as fond
as when he went away.
He draws her to the settle near the
empty hearth; and there, with hel
head resting on his shoulder, he win,
her to tell him what has been hap
pening, and why she weeps SO ,sarslE
- Ee dares not ask sfx-4sa