e
were--was now on board. The boats were waiting only for the papers to
come down from the offices. How slow those lubbers worked! The
spectators on shore were beginning to get impatient, as though the
curtain were late in rising on a show.

For still one ceremony had not yet been completed. From time immemorial
it had been the custom of the whole village to wish the _bou_-fleet
godspeed by insulting the men who were going away. As the boats cast
off, atrocious witticisms flew back and forth between deck and
shore--all in good humor, of course, for such tradition would have it,
and it was a test of brains, besides, to be able to say just the right
word to those _lanudos_, those husbands whose eyes would be snugly
plugged with wool, and come home in blessed ignorance of all their wives
had been up to meanwhile! This theme of the wayward wife and the
unsuspecting husband is the commonest sport--however cruel it may
seem--along the shores of the Levant; and so inveterate the habit, so
inevitable the parting serenade, that some of the departing sailors went
aboard with pockets or baskets full of stones, to be ready for any
thrusts they could not parry with words.

And the last of the after-glow had faded. The lamps along the wharves
gleamed like a rosary of fire. Red snakes of light coiled and writhed
out over the placid waters of the basin. Stars, green and scarlet, shone
from the peak of every mast. The sea was catching the ashen brightness
of the nocturnal sky, and boats and buildings stood out in dark outlines
of indigo against a vast background of nickel gray. "They're off!
They're off!" Sails were being hoisted one by one, and in the night the
canvas filtered the harbor lights as through veils of distended crepe,
or translucent wings of great black butterflies.

Swarming mobs of ragamuffins had occupied the points farthest projecting
seaward. That would give their gibes the greatest possible range. And
what fun it would be! But all ready to duck I They've got plenty of
stones aboard to-night!

Slowly, gently, with barely perceptible motion in that breath of air,
the first pair of boats drew out from the wharf-side, nodding idly on
the swells like lazy bulls reluctant to make their dash. It was still
possible from the piers to identify the teams and the men aboard them.
"Good-by! Good-by!" the women called to their husbands. "_Adios! Bon
viache!_" But the youngsters were already at it, shrieking obscenities
into t