is theme, he preached a half hour longer. The
alcalde breathed loud. Maria Clara, having studied all the pictures in
sight, had dropped her head. Crisostomo had ceased to be moved by the
sermon. He was picturing a little house, high up among the mountains,
with Maria Clara in the garden. Why concern himself with men, dragging
out their lives in the miserable pueblos of the valley?

At length the sermon ended, and the mass went on. At the moment
when all were kneeling and the priests bowed their heads at the
"Incarnatus est," a man murmured in Ibarra's ear: "At the blessing
of the cornerstone do not separate yourself from the curate; do not
go down into the trench. Your life is at stake!"

It was the helmsman.

XXVI.

THE CRANE.

It was indeed not an ordinary crane that the Mongol had built for
letting the enormous cornerstone of the school into the trench. The
framework was complicated and the cables passed over extraordinary
pulleys. Flags, streamers, and garlands of flowers, however, hid the
mechanism. By means of a cleverly contrived capstan, the enormous
stone held suspended over the open trench could be raised or lowered
with ease by a single man.

"See!" said the Mongol to Senor Juan, inserting the bar and turning
it. "See how I can manipulate the thing up here and unaided!"

Senor Juan was full of admiration.

"Who taught you mechanics?" he asked.

"My father, my late father," replied the man, with his peculiar smile,
"and Don Saturnino, the grandfather of Don Crisostomo, taught him."

"You must know then about Don Saturnino----"

"Oh, many things! Not only did he beat his workmen and expose them
to the sun, but he knew how to awaken sleepers and put waking men to
sleep. Ah, you will see presently what he could teach! You will see!"

On a table with Persian spread, beside the trench, were the things
to be put into the cornerstone, and the glass box and leaden cylinder
which were to preserve for the future these souvenirs, this mummy of
an epoch.

Under two long booths near at hand were sumptuous tables, one for the
school-children, without wine, and heaped with fruits; the other for
the distinguished visitors. The booths were joined by a sort of bower
of leafy branches, where were chairs for the musicians, and tables with
cakes, confitures, and carafes of water, for the public in general.

The crowd, gay in garments of many colors, was massed under the trees
to avoid the ardent rays of