coming of the English; for, surely, all the strangers who came from
Madrid by the early morning train could only be from England.

Gabriel waited near the door, knowing that those coming from the
cloister must enter by it. He crossed the archbishop's arch, and,
following the open staircase of the palace, descended into the street,
re-entering the church by the Mollete door. Luna, who knew all the
history of the Cathedral, remembered the origin of its name. At first
it was called "of justice," because under it the Vicar-General of
the Archbishopric gave audience. Later it was called "del Mollete,"
because every day after high mass the acolytes and vergers assembled
there for the blessing of the half-pound loaves, or rolls of bread
distributed to the poor. Six hundred bushels of wheat--as Luna
remembered--were distributed yearly in this alms, but this was in the
days when the yearly revenues of the Cathedral were more than eleven
millions.

Gabriel felt annoyed by the curious glances of the clergy, and of the
devout entering the church. They were people accustomed to seeing each
other daily at the same hour, and they felt their curiosity excited by
seeing a stranger breaking in on the monotony of their lives.

He drew back to the further end of the cloister, then some words from
the beggars made him retrace his steps.

"Ah! here comes old 'Vara de palo.'"[1]

[Footnote 1: Wooden staff.]

"Good-day, Señor Esteban!"