ss and her host
of mercenary Normans were forced to flee, and that her place was taken
by a more just and righteous ruler.

_The Marquis of Guerande_

Breton tradition speaks of a wild young nobleman, Louis-Francois de
Guerande, Seigneur of Locmaria, who flourished in the early part of
the seventeenth century. He was wealthy, and lived a life of reckless
abandon; indeed, he was the terror of the parish and the despair of
his pious mother, who, whenever he sallied forth upon adventure bent,
rang the bell of the chateau, to give the alarm to the surrounding
peasantry. The ballad which tells of the infamous deeds of this titled
ruffian, and which was composed by one Tugdual Salauen, a peasant of
Plouber,[46] opens upon a scene of touching domestic happiness. The
Clerk of Garlon was on a visit to the family of his betrothed.

"Tell me, good mother," he asked, "where is Annaik? I am anxious that
she should come with me to dance on the green."

"She is upstairs asleep, my son. Take care," added the old woman
roguishly, "that you do not waken her."

The Clerk of Garlon ran lightly up the staircase and knocked at
Annaik's door.

"Come, Annaik," he cried; "why are you asleep when all the others go
to dance upon the village green?"

"I do not wish to go to the dance, for I fear the Marquis of
Guerande," replied the girl.

The Clerk of Garlon laughed. "The Marquis of Guerande cannot harm you
so long as I am with you," he said lightly. "Come, Annaik; were there
a hundred such as he I should protect you from them."

Reassured by her lover's brave words, the girl rose and put on her
dress of white delaine. They were a joyous and beautiful pair. The
Clerk was gaily dressed, with a peacock's feather in his hat and a
chain on his breast, while his betrothed wore a velvet corsage
embroidered with silver.

On that evening the Marquis of Guerande leaped on his great red steed
and sallied forth from his chateau. Galloping along the road, he
overtook the Clerk of Garlon and his betrothed on their way to the
dance.

"Ha!" he cried, "you go to the dance, I see. It is customary to
wrestle there, is it not?"

"It is, Seigneur," replied the Clerk, doffing his hat.

"Then throw off your doublet and let us try a fall or two," said
Guerande, with a wicked look at Annaik which was not lost upon her
lover.

"Saving your grace, I may not wrestle with you," said the Clerk, "for
you are a gentleman and I am nobody. You are the son o