fanatical of the devotees, lifting their tapers above their heads, went
out fearlessly neck high into the water: for surely the Saint must not
go in alone.

One old man, shaking with malaria, caught in the rice-fields, and hardly
able to hold the taper in his trembling hands, hesitated at the brink of
the stream.

"Go on in, _agueelo_!" the women encouraged affectionately. "Father San
Bernardo will cure you. Don't lose such a chance!"

When the saint was out performing miracles, he might remember the old
man, too. So _agueelo_--"grandaddy"--shivering in his drenched clothes
and his teeth chattering, walked resolutely in.

The statue was making its way very slowly along the inundated streets,
for the feet of the bearers sank deep into the water under their load;
and they could advance at all only with the aid of the faithful, who
gathered about the litter on all sides to help. A writhing mass of bare,
sinewy arms rose from the water like tentacles of a human octopus to
carry the Saint along.

Just behind the image came the curate and the political dignitaries,
riding astride the shoulders of some enthusiasts who, for the greater
pomp of the ceremony, were willing to serve as mounts, though the tapers
of their riders kept getting into their faces.

The curate began to feel the cold water creeping up his back, and
ordered the Saint inshore again. In fact San Bernardo was already at
the end of the lane, and actually in the river itself. His guards of
honor were having a time of it to keep their feet in the face of the
current, but they were still willing to go on, believing that the
farther the statue went into the stream, the sooner the waters would go
down. At last, however, the most foolhardy withdrew. The Saint came
back. Though the procession at once went on to the next road and to the
next, repeating the same performance.

And suddenly it stopped raining.

A wild cheer, a shout of joy and triumph, shook the multitude.

"_Vitol el pare San Bernat_!..." Now would the people of the neighboring
towns dare dispute his immense power?... There was the proof! Two days
of incessant downpour, and then, the moment the Saint showed his face
out of doors--fair weather! Excuse me!

In fervent thanksgiving weeping women rushed upon the saint and began to
kiss whatever part of the image was within reach--the handles of the
litter, the decorations of the pedestal, the bronze body itself. The
tottering structure of wood and