When Gilliatt arrived at St. Sampson the incoming tide had not yet reached the far end of the harbor, and he was able to walk across it dryshod, unperceived behind the hulls of boats under repair. He was helped by a series of flat stones set at intervals across the harbor bottom.
He was unnoticed. The crowd was at the other end of the harbor, near the entrance, at Les Bravees. There his name was in every mouth. People were talking so much about him that they paid no attention to the man himself. Gilliatt passed on his way--hidden, as it were, by the excitement he was causing.
He caught a distant sight of the paunch, still at the place where he had moored it, the funnel still held by its chains, a group of carpenters at work, the outlines of people coming and going, and he heard the loud and joyous voice of Mess Lethierry, giving orders.
He turned into the lanes behind Les Bravees. There was no one on this side of the house, the general curiosity being concentrated on the front. He took the path running along the low wall of the garden. He stopped at the corner where the wild mallow grew; he saw the stone on which he had once sat; he saw the wooden bench on which Deruchette had been sitting. He looked at the earth of the path on which he had seen two shadows embracing--shadows that had then disappeared.
He continued on his way. He climbed the hill on which stands Vale Castle, went down the other side, and headed for the Bu de la Rue.
Houmet Paradis was in solitude.
His house was just as he had left it that morning after dressing to go to St. Peter Port. One window was open, and through it he could see his bagpipes hanging from a nail on the wall. On the table could be seen the small Bible given to him in token of gratitude by an unknown man who had turned out to be Ebenezer Caudray.
The key was in the door. He went up to it, double-locked the door, put the key in his pocket, and left.
This time he walked not in the direction of the town but toward the sea. He cut across the garden by the shortest route, with little regard for the plants, though he was careful not to trample on the sea kale that he had planted because Deruchette liked it. Then, stepping over the garden wall, he made his way down to the rocks along the shore. Keeping straight ahead, he followed the long, narrow line of reefs that linked the Bu de la Rue with the great granite obelisk, standing erect in the middle of the sea, known as the Beast's Horn. This was where the Seat of Gild-Holm-'Ur was. He leapt from one rock to another like a giant walking from peak to peak. Stepping from one to another of these jagged rocks was like walking along the ridge of a roof.
A woman fishing with a hand net who was paddling barefoot in the sea pools some distance away and returning toward the shore shouted to him: "Watch out! The tide is coming in."
He went on, paying no heed.
Reaching the great rock on the point, the Beast's Horn, which rose like a pinnacle above the sea, he paused. The land came to an end here. It was the tip of the little promontory.
He looked around him. Off shore a few boats lay at anchor, fishing. From time to time there was a glitter of silver as the boats hauled in their nets and rivulets of falling water shone in the sun. The Cashmere was not yet off St. Sampson; she had now set her main topsail. She was between Herm and Jethou.
Gilliatt turned around the rock and came under the Seat of Gild-Holm-'Ur, at the foot of the kind of steep staircase down which he had helped Ebenezer Caudray less than three months before. He now climbed up.
Most of the steps were already under water. Only two or three were still dry. He managed to scale them.
These steps led up to the Seat of Gild-Holm-'Ur. He reached the seat, looked at it for a moment, and passed his hand over his eyes, letting it slip slowly from one eyebrow to the other, in the gesture that seems intended to wipe out the past; then he sat down in the hollow on the rock, with the steep cliff face at his back and the ocean at his feet.
The Cashmere was now passing the large, half-submerged round tower, guarded by a sergeant and one cannon, which marks the halfway point in the roads between Herm and St. Peter Port.
Above Gilliatt's head, in crevices in the rock, a few rock plants quivered. The water was blue as far as the eye could reach. The wind being in the east, there was very little surf around Sark, only the west coast of which is visible from Guernsey. In the distance could be seen the coast of France, marked by a line of mist and the long yellow strip of sand around Carteret. Now and then a white butterfly fluttered past. Butterflies like flying over the sea.
There was a very light breeze. All the expanse of blue, both above and below, was motionless. Not a tremor disturbed those snakelike markings of a lighter or darker blue that reflect on the surface of the sea the latent torsions in the depths.
The Cashmere, receiving little impulsion from the wind, had set her studding sails to catch the breeze. All her canvas was now spread, but, with a contrary wind, the effect of the studding sails forced her to hug the coast of Guernsey. She had passed the St. Sampson beacon and was just coming to the hill on which Vale Castle stands. She would shortly be rounding the point at the Bu de la Rue.
Gilliatt watched her approach.
The wind and the waves seemed to have been lulled to sleep. The tide was coming in, not in breakers but in a gentle swell. The water level was rising, but without any palpitation. The muffled sound of the open sea was like a child's breath.
From the direction of St. Sampson harbor could be heard dull knocking sounds--the strokes of hammers. It was probably the carpenters erecting the tackle and gear for hoisting the Durande's engines out of the paunch. The sounds barely reached Gilliatt because of the mass of granite at his back.
The Cashmere was approaching with the slowness of a phantom.
Gilliatt waited.
Suddenly a plashing sound and a sensation of cold made him look down. The sea was touching his feet. He looked up again.
The Cashmere was quite close.
The rock face from which rain had carved the Seat of Gild-Holm'Ur was so sheer and there was such a depth of water that in calm weather ships could safely pass within a few cable lengths.
The Cashmere now came abreast of the rock. She reared up; she seemed to grow in the water. It was like a shadow increasing in size. The rigging stood out in black against the sky in the magnificent swaying motion of the sea. The long sails, passing for a moment in front of the sun, seemed almost pink, with an ineffable transparency. There was an indistinct murmuring from the sea. Not a sound disturbed the majestic passage of this silhouette. The deck could be seen as clearly as if you were on it.
The Cashmere almost grazed the rock.
The helmsman was at the tiller, a boy was aloft on the shrouds, a few passengers were leaning on the bulwarks enjoying the fine weather, the captain was smoking. But Gilliatt saw none of all this.
There was one spot on the deck that was bathed in sunshine, and it was this he was looking at. In this patch of sunlight were Ebenezer and Deruchette. They were sitting side by side, nestling close together, like two birds warming themselves in the noonday sun, on one of those benches sheltered under a tarpaulin awning that well-equipped vessels provide for their passengers, labeled, in the case of an English vessel, FOR LADIES ONLY. Deruchette's head was on Ebenezer's shoulder and his arm was around her waist; they held each other's hands, the fingers intertwined. The difference between one angel and the other was reflected in these two exquisite faces informed by innocence. One was more virginal, the other more astral. Their chaste embrace was expressive: it held all the closeness of marriage, and all its modesty. The bench they were sitting on was a private nook, almost a nest. It was, too, a glory: the gentle glory of love fleeing in a cloud.
The silence was celestial.
Ebenezer's eye was giving thanks and contemplating, Deruchette's lips were moving; and in this charming silence, since the wind was blowing onshore, Gilliatt heard, in the fleeting moment when the sloop was slipping past the Seat of Gild-Holm-'Ur only a few fathoms away, Deruchette's tender, delicate voice saying:
&nb
sp; "Look: isn't there a man on the rock?"
The apparition passed.
The Cashmere left the point at the Bu de la Rue behind her and plunged into the deep, rolling waves. In less than a quarter of an hour her masts and sails were no more than a kind of white obelisk on the sea, gradually diminishing on the horizon. The water was now up to Gilliatt's knees.
He watched the sloop sailing into the distance.
Out at sea the wind freshened. He could see the Cashmere running out her lower studding sails and staysails to take advantage of the rising wind. The Cashmere was already out of Guernsey waters. Gilliatt kept his eyes fixed on her.
The sea was now up to his waist.
The tide was rising. Time was passing.
The seagulls and cormorants flew about him, anxious, as if warning him. Perhaps among all these birds there was one from the Douvres that recognized him.
An hour passed.
The wind from the sea was barely felt in the roads, but the Cashmere was now diminishing rapidly in size. To all appearance she was making good speed. She was now almost opposite the Casquets.
There was no foam around the Gild-Holm-'Ur, no waves beating against the granite. The sea was swelling gently. It was now almost up to Gilliatt's shoulders.
Another hour passed.
The Cashmere was now beyond the waters around Alderney. She was hidden for a moment by the Ortach rock. After passing behind it she reemerged, as if from eclipse. She was now making rapidly northward, and had reached the open sea. She was no more than a speck on the horizon, scintillating in the sun like a light.
The birds hovered around Gilliatt, uttering sharp cries.
Only his head was now visible.
The sea continued to rise with sinister gentleness.
Gilliatt, motionless, watched the Cashmere disappearing.
The tide was now almost at the full. Evening was coming on. Behind Gilliatt, in the roads, a few fishing boats were returning to harbor.
His eye was still fixed on the distant sloop. This fixed eye was like nothing to be seen on earth. In its calm and tragic depths there was something inexpressible. It contained such consolation as can be found for a dream not realized; it was the mournful acceptance of something that was now over. The passing of a shooting star must surely be followed by glances like this. From moment to moment the darkness of the skies was increasing in these eyes, still fixed on a point in space. At the same time as the infinite sea was rising around the Gild-Holm-'Ur rock, the immense tranquillity of the land of shadows was mounting in the depths of Gilliatt's eye.
The Cashmere, now imperceptible, was no more than a speck hidden in the mist, distinguishable only by an eye that knew where it was.
Gradually the speck, now no more than a vague shape, grew pale.
Then it diminished.
Then it disappeared.
At the same moment the head disappeared under the water. There was now nothing but the sea.
NOTES
1. ananke: Greek term for necessity.
2. Cuges or Gemenos: villages on the Mediterranean coast of France.
3. overfall: a turbulent stretch of open water caused by a strong current or tide over a submarine ridge or by a meeting of currents.
4. Tewdrig: king of Gwent in the sixth and seventh centuries. Emyr Lhydau: father of Umbrafel and Amon Dhu, who was the father of the sixth-century saint Sampson of Brittany.
5. Ribeyrolles: a journalist and politician who shared Hugo's exile in the Channel Islands.
6. Madame de Stael: Germaine de Stael (1766-1817), French novelist and woman of letters. Chateaubriand: Francois-Rene de Chateaubriand (1768-1848), French writer of the Romantic period and later a leading politician.
7. Ernani and Astigarraga: in the Basque country of northeastern Spain.
8. marabout: a shrine marking the burial place of a Muslim hermit or holy man.
9. hobgoblins and auxcriniers: witches and warlocks. The name auxcriniers was invented by Hugo.
10. prince: Albert, Queen Victoria's Prince Consort.
11. Premieres: a village near Dijon. The director of the manufactory was Dr. Lavalle, not Lasalle.
12. Chausee d'Antin . . . Faubourg Saint-Germain: the Chaussee d'Antin was the fashionable district of Paris; the Faubourg Saint-Germain was its aristocratic quarter.
13. Zaatcha: in Algeria.
14. soudards: an old word for a rough or ruffianly soldier--perhaps recalling Wellington's own comments on the quality of his troops.
15. doubles: A double was a small copper coin worth one-eighth of a penny or one-sixth of a sou.
16. Pollet: the fishermen's quarter of Dieppe.
17. tower: the Victoria Tower, commemorating the queen's visit in 1846.
18. Chouan: participant in a royalist uprising in western France during the French Revolution, the Chouannerie.
19. unda and unde . . . ou and ou: Latin unda = "wave," unde = "whence"; French ou = "or," ou = "where."
20. Rollo: the Norse chieftain who became first duke of Normandy.
21. Haro: originally a call to a dog to attack someone or something; crier haro, to launch a hue and cry.
22. Du Guesclin: Bertrand du Guesclin, constable of France in the fourteenth century.
23. Pantagruel: a variant version of Rabelais's genealogy of Pantagruel.
24. Puseyism: the nineteenth-century Catholic revival in England known as the Oxford movement.
25. Dr. Colenso's book: John Colenso (1814-83), the liberal bishop of Natal whose book The Pentateuch and Book of Joshua Critically Examined led to a charge of heresy.
26. Calas, Sirven . . . count for nothing: Voltaire campaigned vigorously against the persecution of the Protestants Sirven and Calas. The dragonnades involved the quartering of dragoons in Protestant households.
27. his speech: evidently a reference to a speech by Hugo himself seeking support for Garibaldi.
28. de Maistre: Joseph de Maistre (1753-1821), theoretician of the Christian counterrevolution of the early nineteenth century. d'Eckstein: Ferdinand d'Eckstein (1790-1861), Catholic thinker and mystical writer.
29. Moulin-Quignon: near Abbeville in northern France.
30. Furetiere: Antoine Furetiere (1619-88), French satirist and lexicographer.
31. Valognes: a little town near Cherbourg.
32. eremos: Greek, "solitude, wilderness." An inventive but unlikely etymology by Hugo.
33. double: See note 15.
34. Pasquier . . . Royer-Collard: French politicians of the Restoration period.