hedral of the Seo in Saragossa is one of the most ancient in
Spain, and bears in its architecture some resemblance to the Moorish
mosque that once stood on the same spot. It is a huge square building,
dimly lighted by windows set high up in the stupendous roof. The choir is
a square set down in the middle--a church within a Cathedral. There are
two principal entrances, one on the Plaza de la Seo, where the fountain
is, and where, in the sunshine, the philosophers of Saragossa sit and do
nothing from morn till eve. The other entrance is that which is known as
the grand portal, and with a wrong-headedness characteristic of the
Peninsular, it is situated in a little street where no man passes.

Marcos knew that the grand portal was used by the religious communities
and devout persons who came to church for the good motive, while those
who praised God that man might see them entered, and quitted the
Cathedral by the more public doorway on the Plaza. He knew also that the
convent schools took their station just within the great porch, which,
during the day, is the parade ground for those authorised beggars who
wear their number and licence suspended round their necks as a guarantee
of good faith.

The Cathedral was crammed to suffocation when Marcos and his father
entered by this door. At the foot of the shallow steps descending from
the porch to the floor of the Cathedral, Sor Teresa's white cap rose
above the heads of the people. Here and there a nun's cap or the blue
veil of a nursing sister showed itself amidst the black mantillas. Here
and there the white head of some old man made its mark among the sunburnt
faces. For there were as many men as women present. The majority of them
looked about them as at a show, but all were silent and respectful. All
made room readily enough for any who wished to kneel. There was no
pushing, no impatience. All were polite and forbearing.

The Archbishop's procession had already left the door of the choir, and
was moving slowly round the building. It was preceded by a chorister and
a boy, who sang in unison with a strange, uncomfortable echo in the roof.
Immediately on their heels followed a man in his usual outdoor clothes,
who accompanied them on a haut-boy with queer, snorting notes, and nodded
to his friends as he perceived their faces dimly looming in the light of
the flickering candles carried by acolytes behind him.

They stopped at intervals and sang a verse. Then the organ, fa