fe, springs upon the
rats and devours them.

The verger or sacristan was very proud of these capitals, and of the
whole cathedral: full of energy and enthusiasm: understood every detail,
delighted to linger at every turn. He seemed intelligent and educated,
and declared he was only happy when gazing upon his beloved aisles and
arches. He begged us to give him an English lesson in architectural
terms, which he soon accomplished. Dressed in his purple gown, he looked
as imposing as any of the priests in their vestments, and more
intelligent than many.

Enchanted to find our enthusiasm equal to his own, he left the cloister
doorway unlocked, so that we might enter at any moment. This was a great
concession, for in Spain they keep their cloisters under constant lock
and key, partly for the sake of the fee usually given: a mercenary
consideration quite beneath our sacristan. He talked and exhibited out
of pure love for his work.

"The cathedral is my hobby and happiness," he said, "and I would rather
die than leave it. I know the history of every stone and pillar by
heart, could sketch every minute detail from memory. In those glorious
aisles, these matchless cloisters, I feel in paradise. I love to come
here when the church is closed and sit and study and contemplate. Born
in a better sphere, I should have become an architect. All these
outlines appeal to my soul, just as music appeals to Senor Ancora."

[Illustration: CLOISTERS: TARRAGONA.]

"Is he your wonderful midnight player?"

"Si, senor. Do you mean to say you have heard him?"

"We were with him last night, and spent more than two hours in the
cathedral listening to his wonderful music."

"It is hard to believe. Never will he admit any one to his midnight
vagaries, as I call them. I do not know how you won him over to let you
in; but he seems to guess things by intuition. Something must have told
him that you had a soul for music, and he could not find it in his heart
to refuse you."

"A curious, grotesque man, who almost gives one the impression of being
supernatural," we observed.

"We all think he is bordering upon it," returned the sacristan; "half
man, half angel. Curious and almost deformed as he looks, he is the envy
and admiration of the whole town, has the most beautiful wife and
loveliest children. He came here twenty years ago, a pale, slight,
ethereal youth of eighteen, looking as though he had dropped from the
stars, or some far-off paradise