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 leaks from a broken
pitcher.

The _alcalde_, a liegeman of the Brull dynasty, was in a quandary. He
was afraid of that ugly mob and was anxious to yield, as usual; but it
would be a serious breach of etiquette not to consult "the chief."
Fortunately, just as the huge, dark mass of human beings was beginning
to surge in indignation at his silence, and hisses and shouts of anger
were being raised, Rafael appeared.

Doña Bernarda had sent him out at the first sign of uneasiness in the
populace. It was in circumstances such as these that her husband used to
shine, taking the helm in every crisis, giving orders and settling
questions, though to no avail at all. But when the river returned to its
normal level, and danger was past, the peasant would remember don
Ramón's "sacrifices" and call him the father of the poor. If the