DESTINY

THERE was once a rich woman whose son was born when the moon was hung (suspended from a cloud by one horn). As the child grew, the mother, who knew he would be hung as soon as he was eighteen years old, became sadder day by day, and could not look at him without sighing and shedding tears. Seeing this, he wished to know the cause, and one day he asked her,—

“Why do you weep so much, mother?”

“Never mind, my child; do not trouble yourself about it.”

But he insisted so much, that at last his mother said to him,—

“Alas! my poor child, you were born under a very unfortunate star. A monk told me, the moment you came into the world, that you would be hung at the age of eighteen because the moon was hung at the same moment.”

“Pshaw! mother,” replied the child; “do not believe that; and,” he added, “I will leave the country; I will go far away, and if it is the will of God that what the monk told you should happen to me, at least you will not have to blush for me.”

So he left his country and went far, far away. He came to a beautiful castle and asked if they needed a servant there. He was taken as assistant gardener. Day and night he prayed to God to avert his evil fate. As he was a handsome young fellow, the young lady of the castle, who saw him as she was walking in the garden, fell in love with him. She passed most of her time in the garden, watching him work and talking with him. At last she made known her feelings to him.

“I do not deserve such honor, my lady,” said the young man; “and moreover, for another reason this cannot be. If you knew how sad my destiny is!”

Then he told the young lady the monk’s prediction. But she only laughed at it. Her love increased every day. She decided at last to tell her father about it. The old lord got very angry. “What,” said he, “do you wish to dishonor me? Marry a gardener, an adventurer? No one knows where he comes from, or who he is!”

But the young lady was so persistent, that the old lord, who had no child but her, and who could refuse her nothing, finally yielded, and there was a grand wedding, with holidays, plays, and rejoicings of every sort.

The first night after the wedding, the young husband went to sleep early. The new wife did not sleep at all. Towards midnight she was amazed to see her chamber suddenly illuminated. Then the window opened and she saw some men with horrible faces come in, who put up a gallows in the middle of the room. When their task was finished, they went straight to the bed and took the newly married man,—who was still asleep,—passed a rope around his neck, and fastened him to the gibbet. One of the executioners rested his feet on his shoulders;—then, after a little while they unfastened him from the gallows, put him back in his bed, and then went away through the window.

The young woman saw all this, pale and horror-stricken,—she could neither move nor speak a single word. Her husband was lying by her side, motionless, cold as ice, and with the marks of the rope around his neck.

Suddenly he awoke with a start, and cried out,—

“Oh! how my body is bruised! and how sore my throat is!”

Then his wife threw her arms around him and covered him with kisses, exclaiming,—

“Oh! thank heaven, you are not really dead!”

“No, indeed, I am not dead, but I am so tired!”

“I thought you were dead. They hung you there, right before my eyes, in the middle of the room!”

“Really? ah! God be praised! for my destiny is then accomplished and I am released from my terrible fate. A monk told my mother that I should be hung at the age of eighteen,—and I am eighteen years old this very night!”

They lived together a long time, happy and fearing God, and had many children.

Told by Marguerite Philippe, of Pluzunet (Côtes-du-Nord).

F. M. Luzel.