their place; and so the work had gone on through time, even as the
bell-signals had gone on sounding from Mission to Mission along El Camino
Reale, the highway of the Padres.

"One Father lives here; a dear old gentleman," said Nick. "I met him once,
but he mayn't remember me. I'll knock at his door to ask for the key of
the church. Somehow I think you're going to like it better than the church
of Santa Barbara. There's something special about this place, I hardly
know what, but you'll know. And they've got some vestments they're proud
of--made by Queen Isabella the Catholic and her ladies."

It rather surprised Angela to hear Nick speak of "Isabella the Catholic,"
for this way of naming the Queen showed knowledge of history; and Angela
had not yet discovered that history was Nick's favourite reading. Indeed,
she was only beginning to learn a few things about him. At first her
whole rather patronizing idea of the young man had been that he was an
"interesting type," a "picturesque figure." Then, when she heard him talk
with Falconer, and Falconer talk of him and of what he had done, she saw
that Hilliard was already a man of importance in his State: that the
"picturesque figure" was merely the woman's point of view. She was ceasing
to patronize him mentally now, and almost every hour he gave her some
surprise.

At a closed door in the white, deserted cloisters, Hilliard knocked, but
there was no answer. His face clouded, for he had set his heart on showing
Mrs. May this Mission church.

"This means we can't get the key," sighed Angela.

"I'm afraid so," he agreed. "But it's possible the Padre's showing some