But the skipper, overflowing with good humor, was taken somewhat aback when he learned that Rosario was not looking for Tonet at all. She had come to see the Rector! What was up? He had never been on very good terms with his sister-in-law. Queer she should be turning to him! However, there was nothing to be done except hear her through. He stood with folded arms, his eyes turned toward the boat where Pascualet and the other "cat" were dancing back and forth around the soup-kettle. Well, what could he do for her? He was listening! And resignedly he waited for the tale of woe he was sure would come from that figure, so vaguely outlined in the darkness, and afraid, it seemed, to begin to speak.
But Rosario with sudden resolution, threw her head energetically back, nailed two flaming mysterious eyes upon the Rector, and began to talk as though in a hurry to get through with it. She had something to say to him, something that concerned the reputation of the whole family. She could not stand it any longer! She and Pascualo had become the laughing-stock of the whole place.
"Ah! What's this you're saying? The laughing-stock of the whole place! And what are they laughing at me for, silly? Just take a look at me and the Mayflower! Do you see anything specially funny about us?"
"Poor Pascualo!" Rosario said, slowly this time, but in deadly earnest, and with the tone of a person prepared to face the worst, "Pascualo, Dolores is not being true to you."
Pascualo reared like a steer struck with an ax between the eyes. Then he stood dazed for an instant, his great head sunk upon his chest. But it was only for a second. That man had a deep faith in the goodness of things and people. His balance could stand harder buffets from the world than that.
"Hold your tongue, Rosario, your lying tongue, and get out of my sight. You're a liar, a liar, that's what you are!"
Had there been light enough for Rosario to see the Rector's face, she would doubtless have obeyed, frightened. His right foot was kicking at the sand, as though the falsehood were a loathsome worm to be ground under his heel. His arm was doubled up and his fist was clenched. Words seemed to come choking from his throat.
"You rag of a woman! And don't everybody know who you are? A back-biter, a cheap gossip, and a trouble-maker. You hate Dolores! You'd do anything to hurt her! You've driven my poor brother to the dogs with your beastly temper! And now you would dirty the reputation of Dolores! And she's a saint! A saint, do you hear! And a woman like you isn't good enough to kiss the bottom of her shoe, you snake! And now, get out of here, and do it quick, damn quick! Get out of here, or I'll kill you like a rat!"
But Rosario stood there impassively. The calm determination in her did not shrink before those insults and those menacing fists.
"Pascualo, Dolores is not being true to you," she repeated slowly, and with despairing firmness. "She is making a fool of you. And the man ... is ... Tonet!"