d. Darkness, everywhere, and
a sea bellowing in the gloom, the reeds and shore-grass bent low under
the gale, the breakers tumbling in as though bent on swallowing up the
land, while a legion of dark-skinned men, with their clothes off, tugged
at great bales in the hold of the vessel that was rapidly going to
pieces, or fished them out from the foaming waters and dragged them up
on the beach, where they disappeared mysteriously, while, in the
intervals between gusts of wind, the sound of creaking wagon wheels
could be heard.

_Tio_ Mariano was walking about from one point to another in his
long-legged boots, calling off sharp, imperious orders, and flourishing
a revolver in his hand. There was no danger from the revenue men. The
guards had all been "greased," and were watching to give the alarm if
their chief arrived. The gun was for those silent workmen handling the
bales, a light-fingered crew, faithful disciples of the doctrine that to
steal from a thief is a virtue. But none of them would sneak anything
away in the confusion! By God, the first man who tried any tricks would
get something!

By the time the Rector had recovered his composure after that
nerve-racking day and that terrible landing through the surf, and after
he had stopped nursing the bruises received from a fall as the vessel
struck, the last wagon was driving off; and the long-shoremen had
vanished silently in all directions, as though the beach had eaten them
alive. Not a bundle had been lost. Even those caught in the hold of the
_Garbosa_ had been pried loose from the crushed timbers, now sunk deep
in the sand. Tonet and the two sailors had salvaged the sail, and the
few things of value left aboard, and were carrying their load off up the
beach. The "cat," meanwhile, who had been washed overboard by the great
wave that first swept the boat, had been revived.

"Oh, _tio_!" the Rector exclaimed, when at last he was alone with his
uncle. "I can say that now, can't I! It was a tough job, but we pulled
it off, didn't we? The Christ of the Grao stood by us fine! We'll figure
up accounts by and by, eh? Now I'm going home to Dolores. And won't she
be glad to see me!"

And the pair walked off toward the distant village with scarcely a
glance at the poor vessel. The old _Garbosa_ lay there grinding up and
down, her nose in the sand, taking each breaker full over the stern, at
each crash losing some shred of her entrails out into the night. And
thus she d