lendid were the two
pillared towers, which reared against the sapphire sky a full hundred
feet above the front corners of the high edifice, and so ornate was the
white stone _facade_ with its carvings and numerous statues of saints,
that even my brief and preoccupied glances brought me a strong
consciousness of the church's magnificence. I even looked twice at the
carvings of the great round-arched entrance, so different in design from
the pointed style of our Gothic ecclesiastical architecture.

That was as far as my observations went at the time, for as I again
glanced out, I saw approaching among the throng of Moorishly draped
figures one so tall and graceful that I knew her on the instant. I
sprang from the entrance to meet her, but checked myself at the thought
that it would be as well first to see who it was that accompanied her.

Alisanda wore her black lace mantilla, her companion a _rebozo_ of
finest silk, and both walked with heads reverently bowed. Yet I needed
no second glance to feel assured that the duenna had not so portly a
figure as that of Senora Vallois. If not Dona Marguerite, who then?

I was not long kept waiting for my answer. Standing with my stiff hat in
hand, I looked eagerly for a sign of recognition from my lady. She did
not so much as raise her head. But her companion straightened a little
and parted a fold of her _rebozo_ to bestow on me the mischievous flash
of a sparkling eye. It was hardly the glance of an instant, yet it left
me pleased and wondering why I had not at once recognized that plump,
petite figure. The duenna I had so feared was none other than the wife
of my friend Malgares, Dona Dolores. What was more, her look gave me the
impression that she knew all, and, with the national love of intrigue,
if not because of friendship for Alisanda, would aid us in our plans.

Vastly relieved at this discovery, I followed them at a respectful
distance into the lofty domed interior of the _Parroquia_. As my eyes
were fixed upon my lady, that I might not lose her in the throng which
moved up the centre of the stone-flagged nave, I gathered at first only
the vaguest of impressions with regard to the church's interior. But
when she and Dona Dolores piously knelt upon the hard flagstones, in the
midst of the peon women and the filthy beggars, I could not resist the
impulse to look up and around.

At once, in place of the vague impression of magnificence, there burst
upon my vision a glory