one around, or having a look at his beloved vestments."

They walked to the church door and found it shut; but to their surprise
the big old-fashioned key was in the lock. Nick pushed the door open and
they both went in, followed by Billy. The Padre was not to be seen. So far
as they could tell in the dimness the church was empty.

"Queer!" exclaimed Nick. "I wonder what can have become of the Padre? It
isn't like him to leave his church open at this time of the evening. It's
late, and we'll have to light up before we start on, although we've only
eight miles to go."

"I'm sorry he's not here," Angela said. "I should have loved to see Queen
Isabella's vestments."

"Would you? Well, you shall, if I have to turn everything in the church
upside down. They must be somewhere."

The two wandered on, peering through the dusk at the primitive paintings
and decorations, made by Indians according to designs of Spanish monks.

"Do you suppose the vestments may be kept up in that gallery?" Angela
suggested. "It looks a safe sort of place for treasures. But if they're
there I'm afraid we shall find them in a locked box."

It was worth trying, and they climbed the narrow stairs that led up to a
gallery curtained with twilight. There sure enough was a box, and, like
the door, it was open, the key in the lock. Within, free to every hand,
were the embroideries, the great treasures of the church.