e
lungs.

The procession was headed by the standard-bearers, with beards of hemp,
crowns and striped dalmatics, holding aloft the Valencian banners
adorned with enormous bats and large L's beside the coat of arms; then,
to the sound of the flageolet, the retinue of brave Indians, shepherds
from Belen, Catalans and Mallorcans; following these passed the dwarfs
with their monstrously huge heads, clicking the castanets to the rhythm
of a Moorish march; behind these came the giants of the Corpus and at
the end, the banners of the guilds; an endless row of red standards,
faded with the years, and so tall that their tops reached higher than
the first stories of the buildings.

Flom! Rotoplom! rolled the drums of the _blanquers_,--instruments of
barbarous sonority, so large that their weight forced the drummers to
bow their necks. Flom! Rotoplom! they resounded, hoarse and menacing,
with savage solemnity, as if they were still marking the tread of the
revolutionary German regiments, sallying forth to the encounter with the
emperor's young leader,--that Don Juan of Aragon, duke of Segorbe, who
served Victor Hugo as the model for his romantic personage _Hernani_!
Flom! Rotoplom! The people ran for good places and jostled one another
to obtain a better view of the guild members, bursting into laughter and
shouts. What was that? A monkey?... A wild man?... Ah! The faith of the
past was truly laughable.

The young members of the trade, their shirts open at the neck and their
sleeves rolled up, took turns at carrying the heavy banner, performing
feats of jugglery, balancing it on the palms of their hands or upon
their teeth, to the rhythm of the drums.

The wealthy masters had the honor of holding the cords of the banner,
and behind them marched the lion, the glorious lion of the guild, who
was now no longer known. Nor did the lion march in careless fashion; he
was dignified, as the old traditions bade him be, and as Senor Vicente
had seen his father march, and as the latter had seen his grandfather;
he kept time with the drums, bowing at every step, to right and to left,
moving the Shrine fan-wise, like a polite and well-bred beast who knows
the respect due to the public.

The farmers who had come to the celebration opened their eyes in
amazement; the mothers pointed him out with their fingers so that the
children might see him; but the youngsters, frowning, tightened their
grasp upon their mothers' necks, hiding their faces