And now you could see that the advance guard of the southeast
force had struck the little fleet. They dipped and scurried and
rocked, and you could see the sails being reefed hurriedly, and
almost hear the rigging creak and moan under the strain. Then
the wind came up the lake, and struck the town with a tumultuous
force. The waters rose and heaved in the long, sullen
ground-swell, which betokened serious trouble. There was a rush
of lake-craft to shelter. Heavy gray waves boomed against the
breakwaters and piers, dashing their brackish spray upon the
strained watchers; then with a shriek and a howl the storm burst
full, with blinding sheets of rain, and a great hurricane of Gulf
wind that threatened to blow the little town away.

La Juanita was proud. When Grandpere and Madame led her away in
the storm, though her face was white, and the rose mouth pressed
close, not a word did she say, and her eyes were as bright as
ever before. It was foolish to hope that the frail boats could
survive such a storm. There was not even the merest excuse for
shelter out in the waters, and when Lake Pontchartrain grows
angry, it devours without pity.

Your tropical storm is soon over, however, and in an hour the sun
struggled through a gray and misty sky, over which the wind was
sweeping great clouds. The rain-drops hung diamond-like on the
thick foliage, but the long ground-swell still boomed against the
breakwaters and showed white teeth, far to the south.

As chickens creep from under shelter after a rain, so the people
of Mandeville crept out again on the piers, on the bath-houses,