EN HAD HAPPENED THE REAL EVENT OF HIS LIFE]

Then had happened the real event of his life: a black-eyed, rose-cheeked
girl went by with her mother, hurrying in to Mass. As she passed him their
eyes met, and his blood leaped in his veins. He had never seen her before,
and, in a sense, he had never seen any woman before. He had danced with
many a one, and kissed a few in the old days among the flax-beaters, at
the harvesting, in the gayeties of a wedding, and also down in
Massachusetts. That, however, was a different thing, which he forgot an
hour after; but this was the beginning of the world for him; for he knew
now, of a sudden, what life was, what home meant, why "old folks" slaved
for their children, and mothers wept when girls married or sons went away
from home to bigger things; why in there, in at Mass, so many were praying
for all the people and thinking only of one. All in a moment it came--and
stayed; and he spoke to her, to Marcile, that very night, and he spoke
also to her father, Valloir the farrier, the next morning by lamplight,
before he started for the woods. He would not be gainsaid, nor take no for
an answer, nor accept, as a reason for refusal, that she was only sixteen,
and that he did not know her, for she had been away with a childless aunt
since she was three. That she had fourteen brothers and sisters who had to
be fed and cared for did not seem to weigh with the farrier. That was an
affair of _le bon Dieu_, and enough would be provided for them all as
heretofore--one could make little difference; and though Jacques was a
very good match, considering his prospects and his favor with the
lumber-king, Valloir had a kind of fear of him, and could not easily
promise his beloved Marcile, the flower of his flock, to a man of whom the
priest so strongly disapproved. But it was a new sort of Jacques Grassette
who, that morning, spoke to him with the simplicity and eagerness of a
child; and the suddenly conceived gift of a pony stallion, which every man
in the parish envied Jacques, won Valloir over; and Jacques went "away
back" with the first timid kiss of Marcile Valloir burning on his cheek.
"Well, bagosh, you are a wonder!" said Jacques' father, when he told him
the news, and saw Jacques jump into the cariole and drive away.

Here in prison, this, too, Jacques saw--this scene; and then the wedding
in the spring, and the tour through the parishes for days together, lads
and lasses journeying with them;