Chapter 39: - Page 8 of 8

Padre Florentino looked down at his feet.  There below he saw the dark billows of the Pacific beating into the hollows of the cliff, producing sonorous thunder, at the same time that, smitten by the moonbeams, the waves and foam glittered like sparks of fire, like handfuls of diamonds hurled into the air by some jinnee of the abyss.  He gazed about him.  He was alone.  The solitary coast was lost in the distance amid the dim cloud that the moonbeams played through, until it mingled with the horizon.  The forest murmured unintelligible sounds.

Then the old man, with an effort of his herculean arms, hurled the chest into space, throwing it toward the sea. It whirled over and over several times and descended rapidly in a slight curve, reflecting the moonlight on its polished surface.  The old man saw the drops of water fly and heard a loud splash as the abyss closed over and swallowed up the treasure.  He waited for a few moments to see if the depths would restore anything, but the wave rolled on as mysteriously as before, without adding a fold to its rippling surface, as though into the immensity of the sea a pebble only had been dropped.

May Nature guard you in her deep abysses among the pearls and corals of her eternal seas, then said the priest, solemnly extending his hands.  When for some holy and sublime purpose man may need you, God will in his wisdom draw you from the bosom of the waves.  Meanwhile, there you will not work woe, you will not distort justice, you will not foment avarice!