never return. If he were here in Saragossa surely his own son would know
it. I saw Leon de Mogente the day before yesterday, by the way, and he
said nothing of his father. And it is not long since I spoke with
Juanita. We could make inquiry of Leon--but not to-day, by the way. It
is a great Retreat, organised by some pilgrims to the Shrine of our Lady
of the Pillar, and Leon is sure to be of it. The man is half a monk, you
know."

They were walking down the Calle San Gregorio, and, as if in illustration
of the fact that chance will betray those who wait most assiduously upon
her, the curtain of the great door of the cathedral was drawn aside, and
Leon de Mogente came out blinking into the sunlight. The meeting was
inevitable.

"There is Leon--by a lucky chance," said Mon almost immediately.

Leon de Mogente had seen them and was hurrying to meet them. Seen thus in
the street, under the sun, he was a pale and bloodless man--food for the
cloister. He bowed with an odd humility to Mon, but spoke directly to the
Count de Sarrion. He knew, and showed that he knew, that Mon was not glad
to see him.

"I did not know that you were in Saragossa," he said. "A terrible thing
has happened. My father is dead. He died without the benefits of the
Church. He returned secretly to Saragossa two days ago and was attacked
and robbed in the streets."

"And died in that house," added Sarrion, indicating with his stick the
building they had just quitted.