CHAPTER X.

THE EXCURSION CONTINUED.

Meantime the ocean, indifferent to the laughter and the discomfort of those petty insects which skim over its burnished surface, reflected the fire of the sun over all its immensity, enjoying this lofty pleasure with the same calmness as in the first days of the world. The light could wander freely over its humid surface, running leagues upon leagues in a second, shooting its blazes to the furthest confines of the horizon, or gathering them in a splendid bundle. It could sport over the foamy crests of its waves, or timidly kiss the diaphanous mirror of the waters, or spatter it with fine silver powder, or fall in a swoon with languid, voluptuous tremors, losing themselves amid the folds of the billows: nothing could change the solemn peace of his heart or cause him to utter a note lower or a note higher in the grandiose air in basso profundo which he has sung since the beginning of the world.

The outlines of the island now stood out with clearness, black and burnt as though they had just emerged from a fire. As they came nearer, the white belt, which from a distance seemed to girdle it, broke into a thousand separate pieces, a considerable distance from one another. The formidable roar as of multitudes fighting, chains dragging, and rocks crashing, came from that direction, announcing to our voyagers that they were approaching their destination. At the end of an hour they succeeded, not without difficulty, in effecting a landing on its rockbound shore; then they had to climb up by a narrow, perilous footway hollowed out of the rock, before they reached the solid, level land. The island did not deserve this name.[47] It was an islet two or three kilometers long, belonging to Don Mariano Elorza, who made use of it only for occasional hunting excursions, and for collecting a few hundred gulls' eggs from it every year. It was covered here and there with pines, but for the most part it was clad in furze, where hares and rabbits had their warrens: on nearly all sides it presented perpendicular cliffs to the sea, which beat incessantly against it, furiously rushing in and out of the hollows in the rocks everywhere abounding. Don Mariano had built in the centre a small house as a hunting-box which, little by little, he had provided with many conveniences. It contained only a large parlor, a dining-room, a few bedrooms, and the kitchen; but it was quite well furnished, and was surrounded by a small garden where a few shade-trees reluctantly grew.

While the dinner was in preparation and they were waiting for the quarantine falúa, which had gone to deposit Isidorito like a melancholy exile on a barren coast, the ladies and gentlemen scattered about, devoting themselves to hunting and fishing, according to the tastes and dispositions of each. Shots began to be heard here and there, showing that the rabbits, which had multiplied in geometrical progression, suffered the law of repression discovered by Malthus. The voyagers who had not bloodthirsty instinct made themselves comfortable on the moss at the edge of the cliffs, contemplating the horizon from quarter to quarter, where the sail of some bark was often seen. Others studied the flora, plucking flowers and entering into long discussions about the cultivation which would suit that soil and the products which it might give. When everything was arranged, Don Mariano sent word by his servants, and one after the other the guests made their way back to the house and entered the parlor, where a splendid table had been improvised, loaded with viands and flowers. It took much labor and sufficient noise to seat so many people, but at last it was accomplished, thanks to the activity of the master of the house, greatly aided by the young man with the banged hair, whom we had the honor of meeting on the evening of the soirée, celebrated in honor of Doña Gertrudis.

The feast was worthy of Amphitryon. No gastronomic refinement was lacking; everything was wisely provided by an imagination familiar with culinary subjects and, as some one at the table was moved to say with truth, "life on a desert island was not so unhappy as it was pictured in Robinson Crusoe and other books." Each plate had before it five or six glasses which two servants were commissioned to keep filling successively with different kinds of wine according to the courses served. No one will be surprised, therefore, that after dinner was over there were enthusiastic toasts preceded by most eloquent speeches and accompanied by shouts, bravos, and congratulations of all sorts to the orator. Don Maximo cut them short by a few phrases, ill enough expressed but very touching, referring to the brevity of human life, to the vanity of pleasures, to the recompense which we shall have for our sorrows in another world, and other supernal subjects. The orator ended by shedding copious tears stirred by such funereal thoughts. Nevertheless, there were some who said in an undertone that Don Maximo's _papalina_ was the least diverting that they had ever known. Then the engineer, Suárez, made a speech elegantly phrased and ornate, directed to emphasizing the importance enjoyed by woman in our civilization and the salutary changes which, thanks to her influence, had obtained in the manners of modern nations. He made a eulogy, as brilliant as it was finished, of her artistic abilities, declaring it to be much superior to man's. He likewise spoke of her physical perfections, enumerating them with great satisfaction, and he ended by toasting her unconditionally as the most beautiful and exquisite work of creation, as the eternal and sweet companion of man. The Señoritas de Ciudad clapped their hands. Thereupon Don Serapio got up and with rather unctious speech proposed in concrete terms that the brilliant assemblage who was hearkening to him should settle for good in the island, in order to populate it, and invited each one of those present to select as quickly as possible their partners. The fact that at the end of his invitation he tipped a mischievous and impudent wink at one of the maid-servants who was helping at table raised against him a tempest of hisses and interruptions. Not being able satisfactorily to explain his behavior, Don Serapio grew very angry and went out into the kitchen, where, after a short time, was heard a ringing box on his ears.

Next followed the toasts, growing constantly more fiery and tempestuous, so that nothing that was said could be heard. One of the most famous was Martita's. By the advice of Ricardo, who sat by her side, she had drunk three glasses of champagne and did not know what was going on. The poor girl, so reserved and silent by temperament, began to let her tongue have free course, directing very facetious sallies at all present, who received them with rejoicing and applause. When a lady said that she was a little tipsy, she grew very serious and declared that she was only rather happy, which was nothing very strange considering that she was young. This repartee caused great laughter among the picnickers. When she was speaking, she kept fanning herself with her handkerchief. Her eyes, ordinarily so steady and serene, had acquired a strange loveliness and a malicious brilliancy which attracted the attention of Suárez, the engineer. The very timbre of her voice had notably altered, making it deeper and firmer. For the time being, she seemed like a woman in all the plenitude of her powers.

When they were tired of talking nonsense, Don Mariano had the tables removed from the parlor, so that the young people might dance. A piano, which had reached a dignified old age in that cloistered retreat, was called upon to mark the time of a mazurka with its cracked voice. As was to be expected, the dance from the first instant lost all ceremony and was converted into a whirlwind of hops, screams, and laughter. Marta, who was dancing with Ricardo, quickly said,--

"I can't endure this heat! Don't you want to go out into the fresh air for a little?"

"Let us go; I, too, am almost suffocated."

When they were in the garden, she said to him,--

"If you will come with me, I will take you to a place which no one here knows anything about except papa and me; it is a beach hidden among the rocks; you don't see it until you are on it ... it is a lovely place."

"If I like! you know well enough the love I have for landscapes, and above all for seascapes! How do you get to it?"

"Follow me ... you shall see."

Marta started out toward a clump of pines situated not far from the house, and Ricardo followed her. The girl wore a marine blue dress with white lace trimmings, and she had on her head a straw hat with a wreath of red convolvulus.

"After we reach that grove, you are going to enjoy a surprise."

"Indeed?"

"Just wait and see!"

In fact, after they had reached the grove and had been walking some time in it, they came upon a grotto half covered up with trees and underbrush. Marta, without saying a word, entered it, and in two seconds disappeared from sight. Ricardo waited an instant in uncertainty and deep surprise; but a gay peal of laughter echoing from within startled him from his stupor.

"What does this mean? Don't you dare to come in, coward?"

"But, child, don't you see, you might get hurt!"

"Come in, come in, brave warrior!"

"Very well ... seeing that you have set the example."

When he joined Marta, he found that the grotto was quite large and had a sandy floor.

"Oh, I didn't suppose it was so large and comfortable!"

"Good; now follow me."

"Where?"

"How inquisitive you are!... You shall see, man, you shall see for yourself."

She entered further into the cave, which kept growing darker and darker, and Ricardo followed, not taking his eyes from her for fear she should fall or stumble upon some obstacle. After some little time the girl's silhouette vanished in the gloomy depths of the cavern, and Ricardo found himself in real darkness.

"Don't be worried; follow me, and nothing will happen to you. I will be talking all the time, so you can walk in the direction of my voice.... If you want me to give you my hand, I will.... No?... very well, but don't fall far behind.... In a very short time you will begin to descend, but it is a gentle slope.... Do you see?... Don't grumble against the footing.... Still, if one should fall, it would not do much harm.... We shall be in the light soon.... Be careful; turn to the right, for the path here makes a bend.... There, we have light at last!"

A luminous point was, in fact, visible below our young friend's feet a hundred yards distant. Marta's silhouette again emerged from the darkness and stood out against the niggardly light which entered through the aperture.

A long, dull murmur was audible in the cave, hinting at the proximity of the ocean. In a few moments they came out into the light.

Ricardo was in ecstasies over the sight which met his eyes. They stood facing the sea in the midst of a beach surrounded by very high, jagged crags. It seemed impossible to issue from it without getting wet by the waves, which came in majestic and sonorous, spreading out over its golden sands, festooning them with wreaths of foam. Our young people advanced toward the centre in silence, overcome with emotion, watching that mysterious retreat of the ocean, which seemed like a lovely hidden trysting-place where he came to tell his deepest secrets to the earth. The sky of the clearest azure reflected on the sandy floor which sloped toward the sea with a gentle incline; months and years often passed without the foot of man leaving its imprint upon it. The lofty, black, eroded walls, shutting in the beach with their semicircle, threw a melancholy silence upon it; only the cry of some sea-bird flitting from one crag to another, disturbed the eternal, mysterious monologue of the ocean.

Ricardo and Marta continued slowly drawing nearer the water, still under the spell of reverence and admiration. As they advanced, the sand grew smoother and smoother; the prints of their feet immediately filled with water. Coming still nearer, they noticed that the waves increased, and that their curling volutes at the moment of breaking would cover them up if they could get them in their power. They came in toward them solid, stately, imposing, as though they were certain to carry them off and bury them forever amid their folds; but five or six yards away they fell to the ground, expressing their disappointment with a tremendous, prolonged roar; the torrents of foam which issued from their destruction came spreading up and leaping on the sand to kiss their feet.

After considerable time of silent contemplation, Marta began to feel disturbed; she imagined that she noticed in them a constantly increasing desire to get hold of her, and that they expressed their longing with angry, desperate cries. She stepped back a little and seized Ricardo's hand, without confessing to him the foolish fear that had taken possession of her; she imagined that the sheet of foam sent up by the waves, instead of kissing her feet, was trying to bite them; that as it gathered itself up again with gigantic eagerness, it attracted her against her will, to carry her away no one knows whither.

"Doesn't it seem to you that we are going too close to the waves, Ricardo?"

"Do you think perhaps they'll come up as far as where you are?"

"I don't know ... but it seems to me as though we were sliding down insensibly ... and that they would get hold of us at last."

"Don't you be alarmed, preciosa," said he, throwing his arm around her shoulder and gently drawing her to him; "neither are the waves coming up to us, nor are we going down to them.... Are you afraid to die?"

"Oh, no, not now!" exclaimed the girl, in a voice scarcely audible, and pressing closer to her friend.

Ricardo did not hear this exclamation; he was attentively watching the passage of a steamboat which was passing down the horizon, belching forth its black column of smoke.

After a time he felt like renewing the theme.

"Are you really afraid of death? Oh, you are well off.... To-day the world has in store for you its most seductive smiles ... not a single cloud obscures the heaven of your life. God grant you may never come to desire it!"

"And are you afraid to die? tell me!"

"Sometimes I am, and sometimes I am not."

"At this moment are you?"

"Oh! how funny you are!" exclaimed the young fellow, turning his smiling face towards her. "No, not at this moment, certainly not."

"Why not?"

"Because, if the sea should carry us away, we two should die together; and going in such charming company, what would it matter to me leaving this world?"

The girl looked at him steadily for a moment. Over the young man's lips hovered a gallant but somewhat condescending smile. She abruptly tore herself from him, and turning her back, began to walk up and down on the beach skirting the dominions of the waves.

The steamship was just hiding behind one of the headlands like a fantastic warrior, walking through the water until only the plume of his helmet was visible. When it had disappeared, Ricardo joined his future sister, who seemed not to notice his presence, so absorbed was she in contemplation of the ocean; yet after a moment she suddenly turned around, and said,--

"Do you dare to go with me to the point which extends out there at the right?"

"I have no objection, but I warn you that it's flood tide, and that that point will be surrounded by water before the end of an hour."

"No matter; we have time enough to go to it."

Leaping and balancing over the rocks along the shore, which were full of pools and lined with seaweed, whereon they ran great risk of slipping, they reached the point far out in the sea.

"Let us sit down," said Marta. "Sometimes the sea comes up as far as this, doesn't it?"

Ricardo sat beside her, and both looked at the humid plain extending at their feet. Near them it was dark green in color; farther away it was blue; then in the centre the great silvery spot was still resplendent with vivid scintillations reflecting the fiery disk of the sun. From the liquid bosom of the boundless deep arose a solemn but seductive music, which began to sound like a paternal caress in the ears of our young friends. The great desert of water sang and vibrated in its spaces like the eternal instrument of the Creator. The breeze coming from the waves brought a refreshing coolness to their temples and cheeks; it was a keen, powerful breath, swelling their hearts and filling them with vague, exalted feelings.

Neither of them spoke. They enjoyed the contemplation of ocean's majesty and grandeur, with a humble sense of their own insignificance, and with a vague longing to share in its divine, immortal power. Their eyes followed again and again unweariedly along the fluctuating line of the horizon which revealed to them other spaces, endless and luminous. Without noticing it, by an instinctive movement they had again drawn nearer to each other as though they had some fear of the monster roaring at their feet. Ricardo had laid one arm around the young girl's waist, and held her gently as if to defend her from some danger.

At the end of a long time, Marta turned her kindled face toward him and said, with trembling voice,--

"Ricardo, will you let me lean my head on your breast? I feel like weeping!"

Ricardo looked at her in surprise, and drawing her gently toward him, laid her head on his knee. The girl thanked him with a smile.

The waters beat upon the point where they were, spattering them with spray, and ceaselessly pouring in and out of the deep caves of the rocks, which seemed hollow, like a house. The rivers tumbling over them awoke strange, confused murmurs within, seeming sometimes like the far-off echoes of a thunder-clap, again like the deep rumbling of an organ.

Marta, with her head resting on the young man's knee and her face turned to the sky, allowed her great, liquid eyes to roam around the azure vault, with ears attent to the deep murmurs sounding beneath her. The fresh sea breeze had not yet succeeded in cooling her burning cheeks.

"Hark!" she said, after a little; "don't you hear it?"

"What?"

"Don't you hear, amid the roar of the water, something like a lament?"

Ricardo listened a moment.

"I don't hear anything."

"No; now it has stopped; wait a while.... Now don't you hear it?... Yes, yes, there's no doubt about it ... there's some one weeping in the hollows of this rock...."

"Don't be worried, tonta; it's the surf that makes those strange noises.... Do you want me to go down and see if there's any one in there?"

"No! no!" she exclaimed, eagerly; "stay quiet.... If you should move, it would disturb me greatly...."

The great spot of silver kept extending further over the circuit of the ocean, but it began to grow pale. The sun was rapidly journeying toward the horizon, in majestic calm, without a cloud to accompany him, wrapt in a gold and red vapor, which gradually melted, till it was entirely lost in the clear blue of the sky. The point where they were, likewise stretched its shadow over the water, the dark green of which, little by little, grew into black. The roaring of the waves became muffled, and the breeze blew softly, like the indolent breathing of one about to go to sleep. An august, soul-stirring silence began to come up from the bosom of the waters. In the caverns of the rock Marta no longer perceived the mournful cry which had frightened her; and the thunders and mumblings had been slowly changing into a soft and languid glu glu.

"Are you going to sleep?" asked Ricardo again.

"I have told you once that I don't care to go to sleep.... I am so happy to be awake!... He who sleeps doesn't suffer, but neither does he enjoy.... It is good to sleep only when one has sweet dreams, and I almost never have them.... Look, Ricardo; it seems to me now that I am asleep and dreaming.... You look so strange to me! I see the sky below, and the sea above; your head is bathed in a blue mist; ... when you move, it seems as though the vault covering us swung to and fro; when you speak, your voice seems to come out of the depths of the sea.... Don't shut your eyes, for pity's sake! how it makes me suffer! I imagine that you are dead, and have left me here alone. Don't you see how wide open mine are! Never did I want less to sleep than now.... Hark! put down your face a little nearer; should you suffer much, if the sea were to rise slowly, and finally cover us up?"

Ricardo trembled a little; he cast a look about him, and saw that the water was ready to cut off the isthmus uniting them to the shore.

"Come, we are almost surrounded by water already."

"Wait just a little ... I have something to tell you.... I am going to whisper it very low, so that no one shall hear it ... no one but you.... Ricardo, I should be glad if the sea would come up now, and bury us forever.... Thus we should be eternally in the depths of the water; you sitting, and I with my head on your lap, with eyes wide open.... Then,--yes, I would dream at my ease; and you would watch my sleep, would you not? The waves would pass over our heads, and would come to tell us what is going on in the world.... Those white and purple fishes, which sailors catch with hooks, would come noiselessly to visit us, and would let us smooth their silver scales with our hands. The seaweed would entwine at our feet, making soft cushions; and when the sun rose, we should see him through the glassy water, larger and more beautiful, filtering his thousand-colored beams through it, and dazzling us with his splendor!... Tell me, doesn't it tempt you?... doesn't it tempt you?"

"Be quiet, Martita; you are delirious ... Come along, the tide is rising."

"Wait a moment ... We have been here an hour, and the wind hasn't cooled my cheeks ... they are hotter than ever.... No matter ... I am comfortable.... Do you want to do me a favor?... Listen! I must ask your forgiveness ..."

"What for?"

"For the scare I gave you the other day. Do you remember when we were making a nosegay together in the garden?... You wanted to kiss my hand, and I was so stupid that I took it in bad part, and began to cry.... How surprised and disgusted you must have been!... I confess that I am a goose,[48] and don't deserve to have any one love me.... However, you may believe me that I was not offended with you.... I wept from sentiment ... without knowing why.... What reason had I to weep? You did not want to do any harm ... all you wanted was to kiss my hands; isn't that so?"

"That was all, my beauty!"

"Then I take great pleasure in having you kiss them, Ricardo.... Take them!..."

The young girl lifted up her gentle hands, and waved them in the air, fair and white as two doves just flying from the nest. Ricardo kissed them gallantly.

"That doesn't suit me," continued the girl, laughing; "you always used to kiss my face whenever you met me or said good by.... Why have you ceased to do so?... Are you afraid of me?... I am not a woman ... I am still only a child.... Until I grow up you have the right to kiss me ... then it will be another thing.... Come, give me a kiss on the forehead...."

The young man bent over and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"If you would not be angry, I would ask for another here;" and she touched her moist, rosy lips.

The young marquis grew red in the face; he remained an instant motionless; then bending down his head, he gave the girl a prolonged kiss on her lips.

A strong gust of wind waked the ocean just as he was getting ready to sleep; he stirred an instant in his immense bed of sand, as though he were going to change his position, and uttered a low murmur of discontent. The waves in the distance began to roll in, big and blue; on the beach they clamored with strong voices. The lights which had shone on their crests were gone, and the magnificent ebullition of the submarine treasure had ceased. The silver spot was fast taking on the melancholy reflections of burnished steel.

When Ricardo raised his head, the first thing he did was to cast an anxious glance along the line of the point. The water already surrounded them. He sprang up hastily, and, without saying a word, seized Marta in his arms as easily as though she had been a fawn, and making a tremendous leap, he fell headlong on the nearest point, slightly cutting his hand. Marta was entirely unharmed, and she looked at the young man's wound; then taking out her delicate linen handkerchief she silently bound it around it, and started off with rapid steps. Ricardo followed her. They both walked in perfect silence. The distance between them grew greater and greater; for Marta no longer walked; she ran. The young marquis felt a vague discomfort, and a strange uneasiness which caused him to deliberate as he walked; he was angry with himself. When they entered the mouth of the tunnel leading to the pine grove, he entirely lost sight of his friend, and could not even hear the noise of her boots on the ground. When he reached the middle of the cave where it was perfectly dark, he thought he heard, very confusedly, the echo of a sob, and his heart was still more oppressed. After he got out into the light he felt better.

When they got to the house they found that a number of servants had been sent out in search of them, as everything had been long ready for the return. The afternoon was wearing on, and the ladies would not find it much to their liking should night catch them on the sea. They were welcomed back therefore with signs of satisfaction, and all hands hastened to settle themselves again in the falúas, which, on account of the swell, were as restless as horses harnessed and waiting for their master at the stable door.

Their sails were raised, and making long tacks to get advantage of the wind, they bore away to El Moral. Marta, when she entered the yawl, had lost the bright color from her cheeks.

The sun constantly hastened toward the horizon. The ladies looked with foreboding as the shadows crept over the sky and the sea, and they cast anxious looks at the sailors. The frequent tacks made by the yawls delayed them extraordinarily, and at last they had to furl the sails and follow the direct course by oars. There is nothing strange in this, and it is the most usual way when the wind is not astern; but it happened that Rosarito, the Señorita de Morí's friend, took it into her head that the change from sails to oars signified imminent danger of shipwreck, and this she represented in her imagination with all the horrors by which it is surrounded in magazine stories,--the pitchy darkness of the night, the waves rising like mountains to the sky, the cries of the sailors mingling with the roaring of the sea, etc., etc. And being unable to control herself, she began to clutch her friend with nervous hands and to utter exclamations of anguish and fear.

"Alas! O God![49] we are going to perish, we are going to perish!"

"There is nothing wrong; calm yourself, Rosario."

"Yes, yes! we are going to perish ... we are going to be drowned.... O God, what a terrible death!... Why should I have gone to the island?... What will my papa say when he learns that his daughter is dead?... Papa! my heart's papa!"

"But, child alive, there's absolutely nothing to be afraid of!"

"Don't tell me so, for God's sake; because can't I see that they have lowered the sails. Alas! what a death! what a frightful death!... To die without confession!... To die away from my papa!... And to be buried right here in these awful black depths!... And be eaten by the fishes! and by crabs.... It's horrible!..."

The Señorita de Morí's efforts to calm her friend were useless. It added no little to her fright to hear the shouts of the sailors, who in order to encourage each other and overcome the resistance of the waves, at each stroke of the oars shouted in chorus, yo-heave-oh![50],--yo-heave-oh! Every time that this exclamation rang through the air with its brutal rhythm, Rosario breathed a shriek of anguish; till the vivacious Señorita de Morí, fearing that she was getting ill, said to the sailors,--

"Gentlemen, will you have the goodness not to say yo-heave-oh! for it greatly frightens this young lady."

But Rosario, quite irritated and shedding a sea of tears, instantly exclaimed,--

"No, no; let them say yo-heave-oh! but let us perish quickly if we are going to!..."

Little by little, however, and seeing that the tremendous catastrophe did not take place, her nerves grew calmer, and before long she was laughing, giddy girl that she was, at her ridiculous fears.

In the Elorza falúa there was little talking. Don Mariano and Don Maximo were too full of medoc to feel like indulging in an animated conversation. The Señorita de Delgado, seconded by her sisters, admired the sunset with lively transports of enthusiasm, and with much opening and shutting of eyes. The Marquis of Peñalta had closed his, and seemed to be dozing with his cheek in his hand. One or two couples were whispering together.

What was Marta thinking about at that moment, her gaze fastened on the sea, serious, motionless, and pale as a statue? What black phantasms rose before her from the depths of the waters to trace in her fair brow the deep furrows with which it was corrugated? What deathly secrets whispered the breeze in her ear?

Ah! easier were it to unriddle the mystery in the murmurs of the ocean and the secrets of the breeze than the vague thoughts hidden behind a maiden's brow!

The sea once more tried to dispose itself for slumber; the crests of its waves no longer gleamed white from afar with their crown of foam; the horizon withdrew its indefinite line, which faded away in the twilight shadow. The smooth, swelling billows rose and fell like the indolent, tranquil breathing of a gigantic bosom. One by one, with lovely ease and confidence, the falúas, leaving them behind, swept onward to the port. The coast with its dark, undulating line girdled the luminous plain. Far in the distance inland, the peaks of the mountains could be seen bathed in a transparent violet haze.

Marta's thought broke through the glutted cloud which girt it in with a sea of confusions and vaguenesses, and in her soul arose all at once a host of sweet and ineffable recollections like so many luminous points with which the serene sky of her life was sown. She amused herself a long time in recounting them, taking new delight in each. How bright and beautiful they burned in her memory! What a gentle light they cast over the monotonous, laborious days of her existence! They were surrounded by silence and mystery; no one had enjoyed them, no one had known them except herself; the very hand which had dropped into her heart the balm of joy was absolutely ignorant of its beneficent influence. This thought filled her with a secret delight which brought a smile to her pale lips. One by one, however, and without her knowing why, those luminous points vanished away, were blotted out and lost in the deep, black abyss of an idea. Her imagination began to fly about like a bewildered bird within this sad and desperate idea where not the slightest ray of light could penetrate. Why was she in the world? The happiness which she had discovered was another's, and there was nothing else left to do but to look upon it without grief and without envy, for envy in this case would be a terrible sin. And was she sure of not falling into it at any moment, or what was worse, was she sure of not raising her hand against that happiness? The hidden beach on the island came instantly into her memory, with its golden sands and its foaming waves flinging their foam flakes upon her. A great remorse, a keen, cruel remorse, began to make its way into her innocent heart like the sharp point of a dagger, causing her such anguish that she uttered a muffled groan heard only by herself. Confusion and dizziness tormented her brain; her head burned like a volcano. She raised her hand to her brow, and it was as cold as though made of marble. This gave her an extraordinary shock of surprise. So much heat within and so cold without!

The ocean at that moment seemed full of peace and gentleness. The sun was just about submerging his heated face in the crystal of the waters, but still lighted up a few places in the vast plain with a fantastic, gilded light, leaving others in the shade. The murmurs were heavier and deeper, of an infinite melancholy; that measureless mass of water was slowly losing its azure hue and changing to another, of very opaque green, sown here and there with fleeting reflections. The melancholy ease with which the sea took leave of the light made a deep impression upon Marta. With her head leaned over the water, and with dreamy eyes, she watched the most delicate tints which the light was awakening in it, and listened to the murmurs which resounded in the depths.

The sun was entirely sunken. The ocean gave one immense, colossal sob. In this sob was so much compassion that Marta thought she felt the ambient air vibrate with a movement of sympathy and wonder. Never had she seen the sea so grand and so sublime, so strong and so generous at once. That august silence, that momentary repose of the great athlete, moved her to the depths of her soul, filled her turbulent spirit with an ardent desire for peace. Who had told her that the sea was terrible? What small heart had spoken to her of his cruel treacheries? Ah, no! The sea was noble and generous, as the strong always are, and his wrath, though fearful, was quickly over: in his tranquil depths live happily pearls and corals, the white sea-nymphs, the purple fishes.

The falúa, when it pressed up against his humid shoulder, made between bow and stern a broad, comfortable couch, with foamy edges, a couch where one might sleep eternally with face turned toward the sky, watching through the transparent bosom of the water the flashing of the stars.

* * * * *

"Heavens!... What was that?"

"Who has fallen overboard?"

"Daughter of my heart!... Marta!... Marta! Let go of me!... Let me save my daughter!"

"She is already safe, Don Mariano; there is no need of you wetting yourself."

"Back water! Back water! Steady!..." said the captain's rough voice. "Fling that line, Manuel.... Don't be alarmed, ladies; it is nothing at all.... Back water! Weigh all.... Lay hold, all of you, on that line. There is nothing to worry about."

At first the confusion was great. Ricardo and one of the sailors had leaped into the water and were swimming powerfully to make up the short distance which the falúa had gone before the alarm was given. Ricardo, who was ahead, dived, and in a few seconds re-appeared with the girl on his arm. The falúa was near them, and he could clutch the rope which they had flung him, and then the gunwale of the yawl, finding himself suspended by a number of arms which lifted them on deck. Don Mariano, in the short moments that this lasted, struggled with Don Maximo and others, trying to leap into the water. When he saw his daughter on board, it took him but a moment to press her to his heart.

Martita had fainted away. Various ladies hastened to loosen her clothing and shake her violently to rid her of the water which she had swallowed. Then they laid her down on one of the seats on the deck, and Ricardo, taking a bottle of salts which Don Maximo had brought with him, applied it to her nostrils. She soon opened her eyes and, on seeing the young man's solicitous face leaning over her, she smiled sweetly, and said to him, so that no one else could hear:--"Thanks, señor marqués!... It is not so bad down below there."

When they reached El Moral, they dried themselves at the house of some friends who were taking baths there, and they donned the first clothes that came to hand. Then they once more took up their homeward way, and reached the quay at one o'clock, finding each of their respective families were beginning to feel anxious over their late arrival.