CHAPTER XXIX.
I WATCH THE PYRENEES SINK IN THE SEA, THEN SAIL O'ER GREEN NEPTUNE'S BACK.
It was 11 o'clock when we started. The streets were thronged, and the throngs moving in one direction. That was to the street lined on both sides with churches, whose doors were flung wide open to the surging masses. We went with the current and entered a famous church which was crowded with the pious, their souls rapt in their devotion. Like all European churches, there were no seats, but the audience, closely packed, knelt or stood. We joined the worshipers, but looked around with curious eyes. When the prayers were ended the street was one living mass of people, all moving toward the outskirts of the town. We went with the tide, and with the tide entered the arena, where a bull fight was on—curious transition from church to arena. It was a great sight—I mean that of seeing the people—there were 15,000 present in that amphitheatre. It looked just like the old Roman arena, and to us was in all its details intensely interesting.
On Monday we visited the picture galleries and museums, and on Tuesday we got our baggage down to the depot once more, and purchasing our tickets we were off for Santander. I was too anxious to enjoy the scenery. We were a day and a night on the journey, and arriving on Wednesday I still had before me three days of anxiety.
Being thoroughly sick of Spain, I longed to be on blue water with our good ship's prow pointed to the Western World. Then I felt I could begin to enjoy life. I had a charming wife—delightful companion—and once up anchor all my haunting fears would die, and life's pleasures would be mine to the full. But there in Santander the time dragged wearily. To be sure, I had the English papers, but they were nearly a week on the way, and a bad conscience finds many a cause for fear. I was aching to be aboard. Saturday came at last, and going early down to the headland at the harbor's mouth, with my field glass I anxiously scanned the Bay of Biscay to see if I could discern anywhere on the horizon the smoke of the approaching steamer. Lingering there until the dinner hour, I hastened to the hotel.
My wife was merry and happy. I was glad to see her so, and found it difficult to conceal my solicitude. Going both together to the headland we spent most of the afternoon there. Night and then midnight came, and no steamer's lights flashed in the dark waters of the bay. Heartsick and anxious I went to bed, half resolved to take my wife into my confidence, tell her in some measure the truth, and point out to her the necessity of my taking flight, leaving her to follow at her leisure. It would have been a terrible shock to her, but I began to fear that the truth would come to her ears some time.
Early the next morning my servant awoke me, asking me to look out of the window. I ran to it, and looking out, there in the bay, just in front of the hotel, lay a steamer of the largest size and magnificent in her beauty. It was a happy sight for me.
Nunn hired a boat for our luggage and a second for me, and then, after a hurried breakfast, we boarded the steamer, Nunn following with the baggage. Among other things I had a favorite dressing case, and had given the servant strict orders to keep it under his eye, but as soon as he came aboard he inquired in great agitation if I had brought it off with me. Upon my saying no he was quite overcome, at the same time explaining that he had laid it on top of the baggage in front of the hotel, and some one had stolen it. While he was speaking a passenger came walking by with the identical case in his hand. Nunn flew at the man and seized both him and the bag, and sure enough he had the thief, but I ordered him to let the man go, and he went away shamefaced enough. He little thought when stealing the bag that the owner was going on the same steamer. At last we were afloat, and now I was all eagerness to hear the steam monkey start to bring the anchor a-peak. It is simply amazing how a bad conscience "moldeth goblins swift as frenzy's thought." Even as I stood there I was not at rest, but was impatient and suspicious of every movement from the shore. As the long day dragged slowly on and 4 o'clock came, preparations for getting under way were going rapidly forward. I took my field glasses, stationed myself on the after deck and anxiously scrutinized every boat leaving the shore. Suddenly a boat started out from the head of the bay, pulled steadily by eight rowers, and my conscience told me it meant danger, but the boatmen pulled down along the shore, then suddenly stopped, and I could see that they were passing a bottle around, taking a drink. Soon I discovered a heap on the stern, which on closer inspection proved to be nets, and my fears boiled down showed me they were simply fishermen and I an ass and somewhat ashamed of myself. I felt I had really no cause for fear, even had the steamer remained in harbor for a week. Just then, with a mighty throb, the screw gave a turn, and it was music to my ears. Then the waters of the bay were churned into yeasty waves. The city and shores seemed to glide by and our prow was pointed direct to the blue sea rolling beyond. Soon the joyous billows were toying with our ship, and huge as it was were tossing it as lightly and easily as a child a toy.