shore to the vessel, and from the vessel to the shore; each one took his
share of the work--one carried a bag, another a chest. Those amidst the
promiscuous company who were possibly or probably women worked like the
rest. They overloaded the child.

It was doubtful if the child's father or mother were in the group; no
sign of life was vouchsafed him. They made him work, nothing more. He
appeared not a child in a family, but a slave in a tribe. He waited on
every one, and no one spoke to him.

However, he made haste, and, like the others of this mysterious troop,
he seemed to have but one thought--to embark as quickly as possible. Did
he know why? probably not: he hurried mechanically because he saw the
others hurry.

The hooker was decked. The stowing of the lading in the hold was quickly
finished, and the moment to put off arrived. The last case had been
carried over the gangway, and nothing was left to embark but the men.
The two objects among the group who seemed women were already on board;
six, the child among them, were still on the low platform of the cliff.
A movement of departure was made in the vessel: the captain seized the
helm, a sailor took up an axe to cut the hawser--to cut is an evidence
of haste; when there is time it is unknotted.

"Andamos," said, in a low voice, he who appeared chief of the six, and
who had the spangles on his tatters. The child rushed towards the plank
in order to be the first to pass. As he placed his foot on it, two of
the men hurried by, at the risk of throwing him into the water, got in
before him, and passed on; the fourth drove him back with his fist and
followed the third; the fifth, who was the chief, bounded into rather