" "And some day," answered my
friend, "the sea will hide everything and all will be ended."

We crossed the downs and advanced toward the coast, where the
preparatory works for the opening of the Rotterdam Canal were in
progress.

Two dykes, one more than a thousand two hundred meters in length, the
other more than two thousand meters long, separated from each other by
the space of a kilometer, project into the sea at right angles to the
coast. These two dykes, which are built to protect vessels entering
the canal, are formed by several rows of enormous palisades made of
huge blocks of granite, of fagots, stones, and earth; they are as wide
as ten men drawn up in a line. The ocean, which continually washes
against them, and at high tide overflows them in many parts, has
covered everything,--stones, beams, and fagots, with a stratum of
shells as black as ebony, which from a distance seems like a velvet
coverlet, giving to these two gigantic bulwarks a severe and
magnificent appearance, as if they were a warlike banner unfolded by
Holland to celebrate her victory over the waves. At that moment the
tide was coming in, and the battle round the extreme end of the dykes
was at its height. With what rage did the livid waves avenge
themselves for the scorn of those two huge horns of granite that
Holland has plunged into the bosom of her enemy! The palisades and the
rock foundations were lashed, gnawed, and buffeted on every side;
disdainful waters dashed over them and spat upon them with a drizzling
rain that hid them like a cloud of dust; then again the waves would
flow back like furious writhing serpents. Even the sections far from
the struggle were sprinkled by unexpected showers of spray, the
advance guard of that endless army, and meanwhile the water kept
rising and advancing, forcing the foremost workmen to retire step by
step.

On the longest dyke, not very far from shore, they were planting some
piles. Workmen with great labor were raising blocks of granite by
means of derricks, and others, in groups of ten or fifteen, were
removing old beams to make room for new ones. It was glorious to see
the fury of the waves lashing the sides of the dyke, and the impassive
calm of the workmen, who seemed almost to despise the sea. It crossed
my mind that they must be saying in their hearts, as the sailor said
to the monster of the Comprachicos in Victor Hugo's romance: "Roar on,
old fellow!" A wind which chilled us to the bone