"'Thank you,and excuse us,'said Cambremer to the priest,when he saw Jacques'obstinacy.'I wished to give a lesson to my son,and will ask you to say nothing about it.As for you,'he said to Jacques,'if you do not amend,the next offence you commit will be your last;I shall end it without confession.'
"And he sent him to bed.The lad thought he could still get round his father.He slept.His father watched.When he saw that his son was soundly asleep,he covered his mouth with tow,blindfolded him tightly,bound him hand and foot--'He raged,he wept blood,'my mother heard Cambremer say to the lawyer.The mother threw herself at the father's feet.
"'He is judged and condemned,'replied Pierre;'you must now help me carry him to the boat.'
"She refused;and Cambremer carried him alone;he laid him in the bottom of the boat,tied a stone to his neck,took the oars and rowed out of the cove to the open sea,till he came to the rock where he now is.When the poor mother,who had come up here with her brother-in-law,cried out,'Mercy,mercy!'it was like throwing a stone at a wolf.There was a moon,and she saw the father casting her son into the water;her son,the child of her womb,and as there was no wind,she heard BLOUF!and then nothing--neither sound nor bubble.Ah!the sea is a fine keeper of what it gets.Rowing inshore to stop his wife's cries,Cambremer found her half-dead.The two brothers couldn't carry her the whole distance home,so they had to put her into the boat which had just served to kill her son,and they rowed back round the tower by the channel of Croisic.Well,well!the belle Brouin,as they called her,didn't last a week.She died begging her husband to burn that accursed boat.Oh,he did it!As for him,he became I don't know what;he staggered about like a man who can't carry his wine.