erceive that you know
something of our rules." Nevertheless he was abstemious almost to
fasting. "And yet it has been indeed a feast compared with my daily
food," he said when it was over. "Now would you like to go into the
church and have some music? My soul is full of the melody I heard on the
mountain."

So it happened that presently we were listening to such strains as we
never shall hear again. Once more we were lifted to paradise with melody
that was more heavenly than earthly. Again his very soul seemed passing
out in music. Had he gone on for hours we should never have moved. But
it came to an end, and silence fell, and presently we had to say
farewell.

"I cannot say it," he cried in a voice slightly tremulous. "It has been
a day of days to me, never to be repeated. Another glimpse of the world,
and a final leave-taking thereof. I will never again repeat this
experience--unless you return and once more ask me to guide you up Mons
Serratus."

This was very improbable, and he knew it. He grasped our hand in
silence, essayed to speak, but the farewell words died unuttered. Then
he silently turned, drew up his cowl and left us for ever. We watched
him disappear within the shadows of the church, heard a distant door
closed, and knew that in a moment he would have regained the solitude of
his cell.

We went back to the world. As we crossed the quadrangle the little lay
brother who had first received us caught sight of and skipped towards
us.

"Welcome to Montserrat. I am most happy to see you," he cried. "So you
have been to the top of the mountain to see the sun rise. And our good
Salvador has been your guide. He is lucky to get so many indulgences,
but he deserves them. What would the school do without him?--lose half
its pupils. And what would the convent do without the school?--starve.
Did you sleep comfortably in your beautiful rooms?"

We thought it hardly worth while to relate our ghostly visitations, and
left him with the impression that, like H. C., we had slept the sleep of
the just.

"And now you are going back to Barcelona," he said. "Well, there is
nothing more to be seen. After looking upon the beautiful black Virgin
and sunrise from St. Michael's chapel, you may depart in peace."

And in peace we departed when the time came, wondering whether we should
ever again look upon this little world and listen to the divine
harmonies of Salvador of Montserrat.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A STUDY IN GR