For
Nepentheans are born politicians and courteous by nature. It is their
heritage from the Good Duke Alfred to "keep smiling." A shout was
expected of them under the circumstances; it costs nothing and may even
do good, inasmuch as Saint Dodekanus could remove the ashes as easily
as he had sent them. Why not shout?
"A miracle, a miracle!" the cry went up. "Long life to our patron!"
A poor tribute; but the Saint took note of it. Half an hour had barely
passed ere the sky grew cloudy. Moist drops began to fall. It was the
first rain for many weeks, and foreign visitors, accustomed to think of
Nepenthe as a rainless land, were almost as interested in the watery
shower as in that of the ashes. Mud, such mud as the oldest midwife
could not remember, encumbered the roofs, the fields, the roadways. It
looked as if the whole island were plastered over with a coating of
liquid chocolate. Now, if the shower would only continue--
Suddenly it ceased. The sky grew clear.
Saint Dodekanus had often been accused of possessing a grain of malice.
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