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Updated: May 22, 2025
In the alternative of certain drowning in the undertow off Nazaret or of taking a chance among the rocks on the Breakwater, he would take the chance. Hadn't he been famous as the best swimmer in the Cabañal? On hands and knees, and at the risk of going overboard with the next wave, he crawled along from the rail to a hatch that had been torn off by a recent comber. He went down into the hold.
Heron's lodgings gave on the second courtyard, the Square du Nazaret, and the way thither led past the main square tower, in the top floor of which the uncrowned King of France eked out his miserable existence as the plaything of a rough cobbler and his wife. Just beneath its frowning bastions Chauvelin turned back towards Armand. He pointed with a careless hand up-wards to the central tower.
"One day the most astounding news was bruited about Nazaret. The daughter of la Soberana had an animal inside of her.
Ugly, burly and always ready for a fight, like the huge creatures that from time to time showed up in the waters of Nazaret devouring all the fish, he would walk to church on Sunday afternoons at his sweetheart's side, and every time the maiden raised her head to speak to him, amidst the simple talk and lisping of a delicate, pampered child, Carafosca would cast a challenging look about him with his squinting eyes, as if defying all the folk of the fields, the beach and the sea to take his Visanteta away from him.
The first thing that the rays of morning gilded was the battered hulk of a Norwegian barkentine ashore off the Beach of Nazaret, its nose buried in the sand, its midships awash, its bilges agape and in splinters, while strips of canvas floated from the rigging tangled about the broken masts. The ship had carried a cargo of Northern lumber.
She did not touch, however, but drifted by so close that the Rector could recognize faces in the throng. What anguish! Able to reach them almost with your hand, able to hear them speak, and yet to be doomed! In a second the jetty was far astern. They would strike on the bars off Nazaret, and perish in the sands there that had been the graveyard of so many boats!
"I WAS spending the summer at Nazaret," said my friend Orduna, "a little fishermen's town near Valencia.
The Rector headed inshore, but then his astonishing good humor gave way to a thoughtful mood. He knew what that coast was like. If he tried to lie to in that blow, it would be all over in two hours. They would smash up, either on the Breakwater or on the bars in front of Nazaret. To run offshore was out of the question. The Garbosa was getting loggier and loggier every moment.
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