hilst I was doing it, the place began to be alive with whispers of
garments, of hushed footsteps, a small exclamation in a gruff voice.
Then the stone above moved out of its place, and a blaze of light fell
down from the choir above.

I saw beside me Seraphina's face, brilliantly lit, looking upwards.
Tomas Castro said:

"Come quickly... come quickly... the prayers are ending; there will be
people in the street." And from above an enormous voice intoned:

"_Tu.. u.. ba mi.. i.. i..rum..._" And the serpent groaned discordantly.
The end of a great box covered with black velvet glided forward above
our heads; ropes were fastened round it. The priest had opened a door in
the shadowy distance, beside a white marble tablet in the thick walls.
The coffin up above moved forward a little again; the ropes were
readjusted with a rattling, wooden sound. A dry, formal voice intoned
from above:

"_Erit... Justus Ab auditione..._"

From the open door the priest rattled his keys, and said, "Come, come,"
impatiently.

I was horribly afraid that Seraphina would shriek or faint, or refuse
to move. There was very little time. The pirates might stream out of the
front of the cathedral as we came from the back; the bishop had promised
to accentuate the length of the service. But Seraphina glided towards
the open door; a breath of fresh air reached us. She looked back once.
The coffin was swinging right over the hole, shutting out the light.
Tomas Castro took her hand and said, "Come... come," with infinite
tenderness.

He had been sobbing convulsedly. We went up some steps, and the door
shut behind us with a sound like a sigh of relief.

We walked fast, in perfect blackness and solitude, on the deserted beach
between the old town and the village. Every soul was near the cathedral.
A boat lay half afloat. To the left in the distance the light of the
schooner opposite the Casa Riego wavered on the still water.

Suddenly Tomas Castro said:

"The senorita never before set foot to the open ground."

At once I lifted her into the boat. "Shove off, Tomas," I said, with a
beating heart.

PART FOURTH -- BLADE AND GUITAR

CHAPTER ONE

There was a slight, almost imperceptible jar, a faint grating noise, a
whispering sound of sand--and the boat, without a splash, floated.

The earth, slipping as it were away from under the keel, left us borne
upon the waters of the bay, which were as still as the windless night
itself. Th