paddling in the water like frogs, and raising their war-cry: "_San
Bernat! San Bernat_!"; the men, with their sleeves and trousers rolled
up, or even entirely naked save for the sash that is never removed from
the skin of a Valencian peasant; the women, with their skirts raised
over their heads for protection, sinking their tanned, skinny,
over-worked legs into the slime, and all drenched from head to foot, the
wet clothes sticking to their bodies; and at the head, a number of
strong young men with four-wicked tapers lighted, sputtering and
crackling in the rain and casting a weird flickering radiance back over
the clamoring multitude.

"_San Bernat! San Bernat!... Viva el pare San Bernat!_ Father Saint
Bernard, _viva_!"

Under the drizzle pouring from the sky and the streams tumbling from the
eavespouts, the mob rushed along through the streets in a wild riot.
Doors and windows flew open, and new voices were added to the delirious
uproar, while at every crossing recruits would come to swell the
on-rushing avalanche headed for the _Ayuntamiento_. Muskets, ancient
blunderbusses, and horse-pistols as big as guns, could be seen in the
menacing throng, as though those wild forms were to compel the granting
of a petition that might be denied, or to slay the river, perhaps.

The _alcalde_, with all the members of the council, was waiting at the
door of the City Hall. They had come running to the place, marshalling
the _alguacils_ and the patrols, to face and quell the mutiny.

"What do you want?" the Mayor asked the crowd.

What did they want! They wanted the one remedy, the one salvation, for
the city: they wanted to take the omnipotent saint to the bank of the
river that he might awe it with his presence, just as their ancestors
had been doing for centuries and centuries, and thanks to which the city
was still standing!

Some of the city people, whom the peasants regarded as atheists, began
to smile at the strange request. Wouldn't it be better to spend the time
getting all the valuables out of the houses on the bank? A tempest of
protests followed this proposal. "Out with the saint! Out with _San
Bernat!_ We want the miracle! The miracle!" Those simple people were
thinking of the wonders they had learned in their childhood at their
mothers' knees; times in former centuries, when it had been enough for
San Bernardo to appear on a river road, to start the flood down again,
draining off from the orchard lands as water