A large diamond ring which the señora always wore, day or evening, gleamed insinuatingly into her eyes. She caught its message. Hastily removing it she held it out: "This and the gold, as well, shall be yours. See, it is worth a fortune. Come, be quick! A boat!" "But we shall drown! We shall drown!" "I tell you no," and before they realized what they were doing they were out of the house, the señora pulling at the ropes which confined one of the largest of the little cluster of vessels. The boat was soon at the edge of the water. The señora jumped in. The men, half dazed, followed. They bent to the oars, the señora's commands accompanied by the weeping vociferations of the fisher-wife and mother. The other cabins had now emptied themselves, and men, women, and children united in the hue and cry. It was too late. Despite the handicap of wind and wave the sturdy craft was well out, under the compelling influence of the señora's determination. Time after time they were on the verge of overturning. Time after time huge billows challenged them. Again, the men wearied almost to exhaustion, would have given up the oars, to drift as they would, had not the señora, her eyes flaming, threatened them with all the terrors of an inferno; or as the mood changed, pleading with them with the earnestness of a Paul. They passed the shadows of Point Lobos and fared out across the bar to the open sea. Here the storm king's fury was at focus, the incoming and outgoing seas forming a rip tide. The boat twisted, pitched, tossed; was flung around and around. Wave upon wave rolled over them. By some trick of fortune they were not hurled into the ocean. The father and eldest son bent all their iron strength to the oars; while the others baled out the boat with might and main, the señora aiding energetically. "Now, broad-backed father and mighty son, another stroke, and another!" With the incision of steel her voice pierced the roar of the tempest, in words of encouragement. "Another stroke and we're head on again. Grande, hombres! She's empty of water now, and lighter to row. Adelante!" Slowly over surge and sea-trough they crawled. Just as they appeared to be getting a little the best of the situation a tremendous rush of water caught the boat, whirled it about and bore it harborward at terrific rate. Before the storm it sped, back to the lea of Point Lobos hills. Here the fishermen regained control. "Madre de Dios!" exclaimed the father. "Over in one of those coves we'll find shelter where we can wait a while, till we can get back home." "Point Lobos arroyo is here. We can land," said one of the sons. "Hombres, turn the boat and sail out to the ships," Señora Valentino spoke. "No," from the father, decisively. "Neither your money nor your jewel can give life to the drowned." "Father mine," from the youngest son, "why not go out again?" "Silly fool! Go out and be food for fish? No."