When the organist came down from the loft the crowd which pressed up to
the stairway was so great, and their eagerness to see and greet him so
intense, that the chief judge, fearing, and not without reason, that he
would be suffocated among them all, ordered some of the officers to open a
path for the organist, with their staves of office, so that he could reach
the high altar, where the prelate was waiting for him.

"You perceive," said the archbishop, "that I have come all the way from my
palace to hear you. Now, are you going to be as cruel as Maese Perez? He
would never save me the journey, by going to play the Christmas Eve mass
in the cathedral."

"Next year," replied the organist, "I promise to give you the pleasure;
since, for all the gold in the world, I would never play this organ
again."

"But why not?" interrupted the prelate.

"Because," returned the organist, endeavoring to repress the agitation
which revealed itself in the pallor of his face--"because it is so old and
poor; one cannot express one's self on it satisfactorily."

The archbishop withdrew, followed by his attendants. One after another the
litters of the great folk disappeared in the windings of the neighboring
streets. The group in the portico scattered. The sexton was locking up the
doors, when two women were perceived, who had stopped to cross themselves
and mutter a prayer, and who were now going on their way into Duenas
Alley.