The Sunday Oregonian., July 21, 1901, PART FOUR, Page 31, Image 31

THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN, POBTLAND, JULY 21, 1901.
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Synopsis o Preceding Chapter.
Ramon Garcia, known as El Sarria, having
been induced to believe that his wife, Dolores,
Is unfaithful, stabs a village fop, Rafael
Florea, whom he finds presumably kissing Do
lores through the window. His estates are
confiscated And he becomes -a hunted, man. At
the same time a young Scotch adventurer,
Rollo Blair, comes to Spain, and, during an
inn Quarrel, Is aided by John Mortimer, an
Englishman. The two start to visit Don Bal
tasar, abbot of the monastery of Montblanch.,
CHAPTER IV. (Continued.)
(Copyright, 1001, by S. H. Crockett)
"'Swords- .are not legal tender Jn the
wine business," said the other, smiling,
"nor yet when I go home with a knowl
edge of languages to help sell my fath
er's gray; cloth. Yqu are as welcome
as my brother to. tho loan," he added,
"and I promise you I will accept repay
ment as gladly from yqu as irons, him."
"You make the matter easier, Indeed,"
said Hollo Blair, recovering his spirits
with a bound. "Here, landlord, can you
change this gold ounce? Or Is the matter
too great a. one for your petty venta?''
The- young man had" been standing a
little back, In the shadow of one of the
arches, in which were empty mangers
and the rings of head-stalls, so that he
could not observe the passing of the
Englishman's purse from hand to hand.
"Your servant, Scnor!" said the Inn
keeper, no Spaniard, but a French Jew
of Renslllon. "What can I have the
honor of ordering for your excellencies'
supper?"
"Order yourself out of my, sight!" cried
the Scot, Imperiously. "We are going up
to the Monastery to dine with my uncle,
the Abbot!"
The padrone of the Venta fell back a
couple of steps, and Ae two serving men
ceased to grin, and, instead, bowed most
obsequiously.
"He Is a nephew of the Abbot perhaps
(who knows) his son! There will be a fine
doings out of this night's work, If he tells
Don Baltasar- all, as he doubtless will."
This was the whispered comment of one
servitor In the ear of his master. Said
the other:
"Speak htm fair, padrone, for the love
of God! For if the monks are adverse,
we are sped. Our pipe is as good as out.
And perchance a yet worse thing may
happen!"
And he leaned over till his lips almost
touched mine host's ear.
"My God!" gasped the latter; "what a
country! "Would that I were safe back
again In mine own house with green blinds
In Rousslllon!
The Englishman and the Scot were now
walking amicably arm In arm, to and fro
In front of tho inn. The Scot had quite
recovered his military demeanor, and
again twirled his mustache with an air.
The sllver-hilted sword shone no brighter
on the morn of Kllllecrankie. The un
used spurs tinkled melodiously.
The landlord stood with his hands def
erentially folded. The young men took
not the faintest notice of him, but con
tinued to pace slowly to and fro.
"My noble lords," he said, "I trust
that the unfortunate occurrence of this
evening will not prevent this house from
having your honors' custom in the fu
ture, and that you two will say no word
of all this to the most Reverend Abbot
Don Baltasar!"
"Make yourself easy on that score,"
said the Scot. "As soon as we are round
the corner we will forget that such n
refuge of fleabltten knaves anywhere ex
ists out of Pandemonium!"
Lower still bowed the obsequious pa
drone, for this was his Idea of the way
a gentleman should speak to an Innkeep
er. It showed his quality.
"Shall I order a carriage to convey
your honors up to the Abbey?' said the
landlord, preparing to take his leave. "I
know a padrone who has a coach-and-
l fix!"
"Wo will walk on our f;et," replied
the Scot, no whit abashed, "in pursuance
of a vow made at Salamanca."
The landlord withdrew, making an obols.
anco that was almost an Oriental salaam.
"But Isthe Abbot really your uncle?"
inquired the Englishman, as they set
out.
"As much as you are," said the Scot,
"but, all the same, we shall dine with
him. or my name is not Rollo Blair, of
Blair Castle, in the Shire of Fife!"
"The Lord send it!" said the English
man devoutly; "perhaps. In that case, he
will part with his Prlorato wine a farth
ing the gallon cheaper!"
CHAPTER V.
The great monastery of Montblanch was
of regal, nay almost of imperial dignity.
Of the potencies and pre-eminences of
Montblanch, civil and ecclesiastical, there
was no end. A hundred villages owned
its lordship. The men were serfs, the wo
men handmaids. Soul and body they were
bound to their masters of the Monastery
of Montblanch. Without permission they
dared neither to wed nor to bufy, neither
to Increase, to multiply, to lay the bride
on the bride bed or the corpse upon the
bier.
It was said, not openly. Indeed, but rath
er with awestruck lowering of the voice
and fearful glances to right and left, that
when the Inquisition was done away with
in the Spain of the cities and provinces,
the chiefs of the Holy Office had found a
last place of refuge beneath the gray rocks
of Mountblanch, and that whoso offended
against the monks of the mountain, or
refused to them flock or herd, -son or
daughter, sooner or later entered the doors
of the monastery never to be seen again
In the light of day.
So at least ran the tale, and as the two
young men ran their way upward from
San Vlcencio. Rollo Blair told these things
to the Englishman as one who believed
them.
"It is not possible," answered the latter,
scornfully; "this Is no century In which
such thing can be done. Who talks of
the rack and the Inquisition at this time
of day?"
The young Scot halted a sturdy peasant
who came whistling down the path, a
bundle of tough reed stems over his shoul
der. "Did you ever hear of the black room
of the monastery of Montblanch?" he
said, pinching his blue overall between
his finger and thumb.
The sunburnt Arragonese crossed him
self and was silent.
"Speak have you heard?"
The other nodded, and made with his
finger and thumb that "feg of Spain,"
which averts the evil eye, but under his
loose blouse, half furtively, as If ashamed
of his precaution.
"I have heard," he said, and was silent.
"Do you wish to enter It?" said Rollo.
"God forbid!" quoth the man, with con
viction. "And why?" pursued the Scot, wishful
to make his point.
"Because, of those who go In thither,
no one ever comes out."
The man having thus spoken, hastened
to betake himself out of sight.
"My object In coming to Spain is sim
ple," said the Englishman, of whom his
companion had asked a question. "Before
my father retires and confides to me his
spinning mills at Chorley, he stipulates
that I shall make by my own exertions
a clear profit of a thousand pounds. I
on my part have agreed neither to marry
nor to return till I can do so with a thou
sand pounds thus acquired in my hand.
I thought I could make it as easily in the
wine business as In any other of which I
had no knowledge," concluded the young
man, ."and so here I am. Can you in any
way assist me In the buying of good vint
ages, out of which I may chance to make
a profit? Besides the firm's credit, I have
a capital of 100 of which at present
eight or nine are In a friend's hands."
"Good Lord!" cried the Scot, "then I
by my folly have put you by so much fur
ther from your happiness. For of course
you have a sweetheart waiting for you
on your return?"
"I havo yet to see the woman I would
give a brass farthing to marry, or for
x-p.""jr m j8ll: suv TtfTfirAoli nfmfrr'iw
"THUS PAR AND
whose mess of pottage I would sell my
bachelor's birthright."
"Fegs," said Rollo Blair, gazing with
admiration upon his shortter companion,
and, as was his wont when excited, re
lapsing Into dialect, "the shoe has aye
pinched the lther foot wl' me, my lad.
No to speak o' Peggy Ramsay, I think I
hae been disappointed by as mony as a
roundulozen o' lasses since I left the Lang
Toon o Kirkcaldy."
"Disappointed?" queried his companion,
"how so, man? Did you not please tho
maids?"
"Oh, aye, It was na that'," returned the
Squire of Fife, takinghis companion's arm
confidentially, "the lasses, to do Justice to
their good taste, were maistly willing
eneuch. But the fact Is that aye afore
the thing gaed far eneuch, I come to
words wl' some brlther or falther o' the
lass, and maybe put a knife Into him, or
maybe an ounce o" lead I wadna wonder
to Improve his logic!"
"In other words you are quarrelsome?"
said Mortimer shortly.
The Scot removed his hand from the
Englishman's arm and drew himself to
his full height.
"There," he said, I beg to take issue
with you, sir! Argumentative I may be,
and It Is my nature, but to the man who
flings lh my teeth that I am of a quarrel
some disposition, I have but one answer.
Sir, receive my card!"
And with great gravity he pulled from
his pocket an ancient cardcase of dam
aged silver, bulged and dinted out of all
shape, opened it, and burst into a loud
laugh.
"I declare I have not one left I spent
them all on those Arragonese dogs down
there, who thought, I daresay, that they
were soup tickets on the fralluchos' kltch.
en up there. And, anyway, it's heaven's
own truth I am a quarrelsome, ungrate
ful dog! But forgive me, Mr. Mortimer,
it's my nature, and at any rate does not
last long."
"But you have not answered my ques
tion," said the Englishman. '1 am here
to buy wines. I am, above all, anxious to
take over to England some thousand hec
toletres of the famous Prlorato of Mont
blanch and any other vintages that will
suit the English market."
"But how on a hundred pounds can you
expect to do so much?" asked the Scot,
with an unlooked-for exhibition ot native
caution.
"Oh, I have enough amount of credit
for anything that I may buy on account
of the firm. The hundred is my own pri
vate venture, and it struck me that, with
your command of the language and my
knowledge of business, we might be able
to ship some Spanish wines to the Thames
on very favorable terms. I should, of
course, be glad to pay you the usual com
mission." "Vintages and commissions and ship
ments are so much Greek to me," said
Rollo Blair, "but If I can do anything to
lessen the debt of obllgement under which
you have placed me, you can count on my
services. I am scarce such a fool as my
tongue and temper make me out some
times. You are the only man alive I have
tried to pick a quarrel with and failed."
"I think we shall do very well together
yet," said Mortimer. "The usual commie,
sion is 5 per cent on all transactions up
to 100 above, 7V."
"Damn you and your commissions, sir,"
cried Blair, hotly; "did 1 not tell you I
would do my best, on the honor of a Scot,
tlsh gentleman?"
"Very likely," returned the other, dryly,
"but I have always found the benefit of a
clear and early understanding between
partners."
They had been gradually ascending the
narrow path which wound through
clumps of rosemary, broom and bay tree
laurel, to a sheltered little plain, much
of It occupied by enclosed gardens and the
vast? white buildings of the monastery It
self. CHAPTER .VI.
At the great entrance gate they paused,
uncertain which way to turn. But a
chance encounter decided the matter for
them.
"Well ah, mine good some time
enemy," cried a shrill, eager voice, "have
you. forgotten Etlenne de Saint Pierre,
and how we are to fight below the wind
mill at .Montmartre the first time you
come to Paris?"
"Lord, it ic tho hairbralned French
man!" cried Rollo, with some glow of
pleasure In his face. The very talk of
fighting stirred him.
A smallish, slender man, dressed in a
costume "which would have recalled the
Barber of Seville, had It not been for the
ecclesiastical robe that surmounted and
as .it wero extinguished Its silken gor-
NO FURTHER f' CRIED THE ABBOTT,
geousness. A great "mass of gold set with
jewels swung at the young man's breast
and was upheld by links as large as those
which sustain a Mayor's badge of office.
"Ah, I have renounced the world, my
dear adversary," cried the newcomer,, en
thusiastically, "as you tvIH also. I am
no longer Etlenne de Saint Pierre, but
Brother Hllarla, an unworthy novice of
the Convent of the Virgin of Mont
blanch!" "But, sir," cried Rollo Blair, "you can
not take up the religious life without
some small settlement with me. You are
trysted to meet me with the small sword
at the Buttes of Montmartre you to flght
for the honor of Senorlta Concha of Sar
ria and I to make a hole in your skin
for the sweet sake of little Peggy Ram
say, who broke my heart or ever I left
the bonny woods o' Alyth to wander on
a foreign shore!"
"Your claim I allow, my dear Sir
Blair," cried the Frenchman, "but the
eternal concerns of the soul come first,
and I have been wicked wicked so very
wicked. But the holy prior the abbot
mine uncle, hath shown me the error of
my ways!"
John Mortimer turned directly round
till he faced the speaker.
"Odds toobs," he cried, "then there Is
a pair of them. He Is this fellow's uncle,
too!"
The Frenchman gazed at him amazed
for a moment. Then he clapped his hand
fiercely on the place where his sword-hilt
should have been, crying, "I would have
you know, Monsieur, that the word of a
Saint Pierre Is sacred. I carry In my
veins the blood of kings!"
And he grappled fiercely for the miss
ing sword-hilt, but his fingers encoun
tering only the great jeweled cross of
gold filigree work, he raised it to his
lips with a sudden revulsion of feeling.
"Torrentes Inlqultatls conturbaverunt
me. Dolores Infernl clrcumdederunt me."
"What; still harping on little Dolores?"
cried Blair. "I thought little Concha was
your last before Holy Church, I mean!"
The little Frenchman was beneath the
lamps and he looked up at the long, lean
Scot with a peculiarly sweet smile.
"Ah, you scoff," he said, "but you will
learn, yes. you will learn. My uncle, the
prior, will teach you. He will show you
the way, as he has done me!"
"It may be so," said the Scot, darkly,
"I only wish I could have a chance at
him. I think I could prove him all In
the wrong about transubstantlation that
Is, If I could keep my temper sufficiently
long."
At this moment the colloquy at the ab
bey gate was broken up by a somewhat
stout man, also In the garb of a novice,
a long friar's robe being girt uncomfort
ably tight about his waist, and in his
hand a lantern.
"Monsieur Brother Hllarlo, I mean the
holy prior wishes to speak with you, and
desires to know whether you would pre
fer a capon of Zaragoza or two Bordeaux
pigeons In your olla tonight?"
"Come, that Is more promising," cried
the Scot, "we will gladly accept of your
Invitation to dine with you and your
uncle, and give him all the chance he
wants to convert me to the religious life."
"rnvltatlon!" cried the astonished Broth
er Hllarlo. "did I invite you? If so, I
fear I took a liberty. I do not remember
the circumstance."
"Do you doubt my word?" cried the
Scot, with Instant frowning trucculence;
"I say the Invitation was implied if not
expressed, and by the eyes of Reggy
Ramsey, if you do not get us a couple of
covers at your uncle's table tonight, I
will go straight to the holy prior and
tell him all that I know of the little
Concha of Sarria, and your plot against
her mistress a deal more, I opine, than
you Included in your last confession,
most high-minded friar!"
"That was before my renunciation of
the flesh," cried St. Pierre, manifestly
agitated.
The Scot felt his elbow touched.
"I was under her balcony with "a letter
last Friday, no further gone," whispered
the novice In the cord-begirt robe;
"blessed angels help me to get this non
sense out of his head,' or it will be the
death of us, and we will never see the
Palais Royale again!"
"And on what pious principles do you
explain the letter you sent last Friday?"
said Rollo, aloud. "Whaf If I were to put
that Into the hands of your good uncle,
the prior? If that were to happen I war
rant you would never ride on one of the
white abbey mules In the garb of tho
Brothers of Montblanch!"
Instead of being astonished and quailing
at his acuteness the young Frenchman
fired up In the most carnal and unmonklsh
fashion. v
"You have been making love to my little
Concha yourself, you Scots rogue. I will
' S &" 1 I " ' i ' ' I .11 CUlI iJLIJX-JVJLW
STERNLY.
have your life, Monsieur! Guard your
self!" " 'Your Concha,' do you say. Master
Friar?" cried Blair, "and pray who gave
you a right to have Conchas on your
hands with the possessive adjective be
fore them? Is that included in your
monkish articles of association? Is ador
ation of little Conchas set down In black
and red In your breviaries? Answer me,
that, sir?"
"No matter. Monsieur," retorted the
Frenchman; "I was a man before I was
a monk. Indeed,,, in the latter capacity
I am not full-fledged yet. And I hold
you answerable if in anything, you have
offended against the lady you have
named, or used arts to wile her heart
from mo!''
"I give you my word, I never set eyes
on the wench but from what I hear-: "
"Stop there," cried the second novice;
"be good enough to settle that question
later. For me I must go back promptly
"with the answer about the capon of
Zaragoza and the two Bordeaux pigeons!"
The Scot looked at the Frenchman.
The Frenchman looked at the Scot.
"As a compliment to the fair lady the
Senorlta Concha, say to my uncle, tho
capon Francois!" said the lover.
"And as a compliment to yourself, my
dear brother Hllarlo, say to his Lord
ship also the two Bordeau pigeons!"
"And the pigeons, Francois!" quoth the
latest addition to the Brotherhood of
Montblanch, with perfect seriousness.
CHAPTER VII.
Rollo Blair kept his gasconading prom
ise. He dined with "his uncle," the ab
bot, that most wise, learned and Chris
tian prelate, Don Baltasar Varela.
The Abbot of Montblanch was glad to
see Milord of Castle Blair In the land of
tho Scots. It was not a Christian coun
try he had been informed.
Costly wines were on the table. Silver
and cut glass of Venice sparkled on spot
less cloth. Silent-sandaled lay brethren
of the order waited on the prior and his
guests. Course after course was brought
In, discussed and removed. The Abbot,
Don Baltasar Varela, himself ate little
He watched his guests' appetites, how
ever, with manifest interest, and directed
the servitors with almost imperceptible
movements of his hand. He appeared to
favor each one of tHe three equally.
Yet an observer, as detached as Don
Baltasar himself would have detected that;
the chief part of his attention was given
to the young man, Rollo Blair, and that
the prior, with a gentle subtle smile, kept
murmuring to himself at each quick re
tort and flash of repartee:
" 'Fiery as a Scot,' Indeed! A true
proverb! This fellow is the man we want.
If so we can pay his price. The others"
Rollo never emptied his glass (and he
did so frequently), but one of Abbot Bal
tasar's eyelids quivered, and the glass
was Immediately filled again.
As Hollo's tongue loosened and his heart
enlarged, the prior, with a twitch of his
thumb, Indicated that the doors were to
be closed, and turned again to give yet
graver and more courteous attention to
the conversation of his guest.
Master Blair's muse was the historical
and alas! The autobiographical.
"Through his sword arm I sent Klllle
crankie, that is a better blade than any
forged at Toledo as I, Rollo Blair, stand
ready to affirm and make good upon any
man any day In the week!"
"I agree!" said John Mortimer. " 'TIs
better than my only razor, which Is an
Infernally bad piece of metal, and not
fit to sccape a hog with!"
"And I agree." sighed Etlenne; "the re
mainder of my life I have resolved to de
vote to contemplation upon holy things.
Vade retro me, Satana!"
The Scot turned upon him like a flash.
"You have renounced the world?" he
queried. "Did I hear you ay?"
The Frenchman nodded. "And Its vani
ties!" agreed he, with a twirl of his
chain.
"Since Friday night I presume?" again
the fateful questioning. "Contemplation!"
he laughed aloud; "you will, you say,
pass your days In contemplation. The
relics of the saints wll serve you from
this day forth, gentle penitent Why,
man, you should go straight to Cologne.
They have eleven thousand virgins there,
I am told. These might chance to eerve
you some while!"
"Speaking of relics," said the abbot,
rising to prevent further discourse, "there
Is a midnight celebration which It is my
duty to attend, but do not let that dis
turb you from finishing your wine. Son
Hllarlo, I absolve you from attendance,
that you may keep these friends of yours
in company. When you are weary, touch
this bell and Father Anselmo, my con
fessor, will show you the treasures and
reliquaries of the abbey. Benedlclte, good
gentlemen!" be said, and went out with
bowed head and a rustle of flowing robe.
"But the wine the wine! You have
forgotten the wine!" cried John Morti
mer, suddenly remembering his purpose
In coming to Montblanch.
"What?" queried the Frenchman, mys
tified, and moving toward the decanters.
"Does he want more wine? How much
would satisfy him?"
"I could take somewhere about sixty
thousand gallons at present, and more
In a day or two!" 3aid Mortimer.
Monsieur Etlenne dc Saint Pierre fell
back lax with astonishment.
The matter was explained.
"I can arrange that with my uncle,"
said Etlenne. as soon as he fully un
derstood John Mortimer's purpose. "I un
derstand something about wines, for I
grow some square leagues of vines on my
lands In France; and I will see to It that
your friend does not pay too high a
price for the el Prlorato. And now for
the relics! We have wasted too much
time."
He rang the bell and called in the ab
bot's confessor. Father Anselmo was a
gaunt, severe man. of more than the aver
age height, with black hair, streaked
with gray and fixed and stony eyes. With
him there appeared a younger and more
jovial monk, with small eyes that per
petually twinkled, and a smile that
seemed to catch itself up aa with a click
each time that the stem gaze of Father
Anselmo turned his way. This monk was
evidently either only a novjee or a lay
brother on his probation, for he wore
that habit and carried In his hand a
great bunch of keys, which he tinkled
freely, as If in that sjlent place he took
a certain pleasure In the sound.
CHAPTER VIII.
The severe confessor solemnly proceeded
them, a candle In his hand. Rollo
thought that Father Anselmo had the
air of perpetually assisting at an excom
munication, a burning of heretics, or oth
er disciplinary ceremony of the Holy
Ghurch.
The treasury of Montblanch had Indeed
been most grievously despoiled by the
French, according to Immemorial custom
of that most Christian nation upon its
campaigns, and only the most used
dishes were now of sliver or sliver gilt.
The confessor selected two keys from
the bunch and Inserted them Into a cou
ple of locks In a small Iron door at the
foot of certain gloomy steps.
The Scot, who was imaginative,
thought that he could discern some faint
stirrings of life about his feet. Accord
ingly, he stamped them once or twice,
having an Instinctive hatred of little
creeping vermin, which, with wasps, were
the only things he feared In heaven or
earth.
But the faint stirring ceased, and he
grew interested In 'watching Father An
selmo and the novice bearing simultan
eously on the keys, which turned togeth
er quite suddenly. Then the confessor
touched a spring concealed behind some
drapery and the door opened.
The paucity of treasures of silver and
gold In the treasury of Montblanch was
more than made up for by the extraor
dinary number of relics of saints which
the monastery possessed. It was at this
point that the novice who appeared to
act as a kind of showman In ordinary to
the vaults, took up his tale.
"Athana&lus, do your duty!" the con
fessor had said with a solemn voice, pre
cisely as if he had been ordering the ilrst
turn of the great wheel of the garotte.
And in words that fairly tumbled over
each other, with haste the custodian be
gan his enumeration.
"Here we have a bud from the rod of
Aaron, also the body of Aaron himself;
the clasp of the robe of Elijah, the proph
et, which Ellsha did not observe when
he picked up the mantle; also the afo're
said Elijah and Ellsha; the stone on
which the angel sat in the Holy Sepul
chre; the stone on which Holy St. Peter
stumbled when he let John outurn him;
the words he said on that occasion, which
are not included In Holy Writ, but were
embroidered on a handkerchief by his
mother-in-law, probably out of spite; tho
stone on which the sainted virgin was
sitting when the angel saluted her."
Athanaslus, the rosy, had only proceed
ed so far with his enumeration when a
groan came as it were from the ground,
and the Scot leaped violently aside.
"Goad God!" he cried, "there is some
one suffering down here through that
door, I thfnk. Open It, you black-a-vlsed
sweep of darkness! I am a Presbyterian,
I tell you, and I will have no Torqua
mada business where Rollo Blair Is."
But the dark monk only shook his head
and for the first time smiled.
"The exclamatory stranger Is misled
by a curious echo, which has given this
place its name. It is called 'The Gate
of the Groans,' and our wise predeces
sors chose the place, for the entrance of
their treasure chamber, as giving ignor
ant men the Idea that the properties of
the abbey were protected by demons! I
had not, however, hoped that the in
genious little arrangement would deceive
one so wise and experienced as the cabal
lero with the long sword. Our novice,
Brother Hilario, will Inform his friend
that what I have said is well known In
the monastery to be the case!"
"I have heard it so stated," said
Etlenne, with some reluctance, and speak
ing not at all as hia monastic name would
Import.
The groans came again and again, ap
parently from the earth, and Rollo, not
yet fully convinced, stamped here and
there with his foot and battered the walls
with the hilt of his sword, till he added
a dint or two to the tasselled basket of
"Kllllecrankie," as he usually named his
weapon from the family circumstance be
fore mentioned. All In vain, however, for
the walls were solid and the floor be
neath his feet rang dull and true.
"Follow me!" eald the sepulchral monk,
curtly, and pointing upward as tho sound
of a bell was wafted down to them faint
ly; 'that Is the bell of midnight. Let us
attend Its call!"
They followed their guide through a
maze of dark passages, till, with a sud
den "attention!" he halted them before
a door, from the other side of which
came a sound of voices.
The door opened and all the world
seemed suddenly filled with clear singing
and glorious light.
Without the least preparation or preface
Father Anselmo ushered the three young
men Into the great chapel of the order of
the Virgin of Montblanch.
The three youths blinked at the sudden
light as they stepped within, and each
of them glanced at their dress with the
Instinct of those who find themselves un
expectedly In crowded places that It must
be disordered.
It was the season of pilgrimage, and
many were the penitents who availed
themselves of the monks' three days' hos
pitality. These were seated about the
dark church on chairs and stools sup
plied them by the sacristans, and on two
of these John Mortimer and Rollo pres
ently found themselves, while Brother
Hllarlo went off to the gallery reserved
for novices of his standing. Now and
then a woman would steal forward and
add a tall candle to the many thousand
which burned upon the altar, or a man
kneel at the screen of golden bars, beyond
which were the officiating priests and
their silently moving acolytes.
The church lay behind In deep shadow,
only the higher lights shining here or
a man's head and there on a woman's
golden ornament. The abbot sat to the
right In his episcopal lobes with his mitre
on a cushion beside him; a priest stood
by his chair with the crosier in his
hand.
The brethren of the order could be seen
In their robes occupying the stalls allot
ted to them. There was another organ
and choir far down the church, high to
the right of the pillar, by which the
young men sat. The presence of this
second choir was betrayed by a dim Il
lumination proceeding from behind the
fretted ballustrade of the choir loft.
With the quick sympathy of his nature
Rollo, forgetting his some time devotion
to his native Presbytery, which, indeed,
was chiefly of the controversial sort, per
mitted himself to be carried away by
the magnificent swing of the music, the
resonance of the organs, now pouring
their thunder forth so as to shake at once
the hearer's diaphragms and the fretted
roof of blue and gold above them, now
sweet and lonesome as a bird singing
down in the meadows In (he noon Al
ienees. Anon Rollo shut his eyes ond
the Chapel of the Virgin of Montblanch
.Incontinently vanished. He was among
the great congregation of all the faith
ful, he alone without a wedding gar
ment. The impressions blurred themselves at
this point. Rollo Blair was kneeling at
his mother's knee He thought of his
first sweetheart, who had nearly made
him a minister, and (perchance) a better
man. Rollo Blair's head fell forward
against a plllar--and, while the music
thundered and walled alternate, and the
great service swept on its gorgeous way,
the wild Scot, soothed by a lullaby of
sound, slept the sleep of the young,
the tired and( the heart free.
How long he slumbered he could not
tell, but he was awakened by a violent
thrust In the ribs from the elbow of John
Mortimer.
"Great Jimmlny! what's that? Look
man, look!"
Rollo opened his eyes, bleared with In
sufficient sleep, and for a long moment
all things danced before them, as gnats
dance In the light of the moon. He saw
dimly without understanding the swing
ing altar lamps In. a kind of purple haze.
Lthe richly robed priests, the myriad can
dies, the dark forms of the worshipers.
But now, Instead of all eyes being turned
toward the brilliance of the golden altar.
It was toward the door at the dark end
of the chapel that they looked.
He could distinguish a tumult of hoarse
voices without, multitudinous angry cries
of men, the clatter of feet, tho sharp
clash of arms. A shout or two went off
quite near nt hand.
"Seize him take the murderer! Hold
him!"
Then, shedding to either side a surge
of men, as the bow of a swift ship casts
a twin wave to right and left, a man
with only scraps of rags clinging to him
rushed up the aisle of the nave. His
Iralr was wet and matted about his brow.
There was a gash on one shoulder. His
right arm hung useless by his side. He
was barefooted, but still In his left hand
he held a long knife of which the steel
was dimmed with blood.
"El Sarria! El Sarria!" cried the voices
behind him. "There Is a hundred duros
on his head! Take him! Take him!"
And In a moment more the whole church
was filled with the clangor of armed men.
Bright uniforms filled the doorways.
Sword bayonets glinted from behind pil
lars as eager pursuers rushed this way
and that after him, overturning the
chairs and frightening the kneeling wom
en. Straight up the aisle, turning neither to
right nor ,left, rushed the hunted man.
On the steps which led up to tho glided
railing he threw down his knife, which,
with a clang, rebounded onto the marble
floor of the church.
A priest came forward as If to bar the
little wicket door. But with a bound El
Sarria was within, and In another he
had cast himself down on the uppermost
steps of the high altar Itself and laid
his hands upon the clothwhlch bore Su
Majestad, the high mystery of the Incar
nation of God.
At this up rose the abbot, and stepping
from his throne with a calm dignity he
reached the little golden gate through
which the hunted man had come one mo
ment before the pursuers. These were the
regular government troops, commanded
by a Chrlstlno officer, who, with a naked
sword In his hand, pointed them on.
Blind with anger and the loss of many
comrades, they would have rushed after
the fugitive and slain him even on the
Holy Place where he lay.
But the abbot of the Order of the Vir
gin of Montblanch stood In the breach.
They must first pass over his body. He
held aloft a cross of gold with a kind of
stern defiance. The crozler-bearer had
moved automatically to his place behind
him.
"Thus far and no further!" cried the ab
bot sternly. "Bring not the strife of
man Into the presence of the Prince of
Peace. This man hath laid his hands up
on the horns of the altar, and by Our
Lady and the Host of God, he shall be
safe!"
CHAPTER IX.
The abbot of Montblanch, Don Balta
sar Varela, was supposed to be occupied
In praver and meditation. But In com
mon with many of his abbatlcal brethren,
ho employed his leisure' In quite other
matters. la the security of his chamber
the abbot was another man to the genial
host, the liberal and well-read churchman,
the courteous man of the world who had
listened so approvingly to the wild talk
of Rollo, the Scot, and so condescend
ingly clinked glasses with Brother Hl
larlo, the rich young recruit who had
come from his native province to support
the cause of El Rey Ajsoluto, Don Carlos
V of Spain.
."It Is no use Anselmo," said the abbot,
gravely toying with the clasp of one of
the open books, In which a few lines of
writing were still wet, "after all, we are
but playing with the matter here. The
cure lies elsewhere. We may. Indeed,
keep our petty bounds Intact, sheltering
within a dozen of leagues not one known
unfaithful to the true King, and the prin
ciples of the Catholic religion; but we
cannot hold even Arragon with any cer
tainty. The cities whelm us In spite of
ourselves. Zaragos Itself Is riddled with
sedition, rottenly Jacobin to the core!"
"An accursed den of thieves!" said the
gloomy monk. "God will judge it in his
time!"
"Doubtless -doubtless. I most fully
agree," said the abbot softly, "but mean
time it 1a his will that we use such means
as we have In our hands to work out the
divine ends. It Is well known to you
that there la one man who Is driving this
estate of Spain to the verge of a devil's
precipice."
With a look of dark shrewdness the
priest dropped his head closer to his su
perior's ear.
"Mendizabel," he said, "Mendlzabel,
the Jew of Madrid, the lover of heretic
England, the overgrown catspaw of the
money-broker, the gabbler of the mon
keys' chatter called 'liberal principles,'
the evil councillor of a foolish Queen."
"Even so," sighed the abbot, "to such
God for a time grants power to scourge
his very elect. Great Is their power for
a time. They flourish like a green bay
tree for a time. But does not the Wise
Man say in the Scripture, 'Better is wis
dom than many battalions, and a prudent
man than a man of war?' You and I,
father, must be the prudent men."
"But will not our brave Don Carlos
soon rid us of these dead dogs of Madrid?"
said the confessor. "What of his great
Generals, Cabrera and Serrador? They
have gained great victories. God has
been with their arms." '
The prior shrugged his shoulders with
a slight but Inconceivably contemptuous
movement, which Indicated that he was
weary' of the father's line of argument.
"Another than you, Anselmo, might mis
take me for a scoffer when I say that In
this matter we must be our own Don Car
los, our own generals nay, our own prov
idence. Now, I have received from a sure
hand In Madrid, one of us and devoted to
our Interests, an Intimation that so soon
as the present Cortes is dissolved Mendl
zabel means to abolish all the convents In
Spain, to seize their treasures and reve
nues, turn their occupants adrift and with
the proceeds pay enough foreign merce
naries to drive Don Carlos beyond tho
Pyrenees and end the war."
During the speech, which the prior de
livered calmly, tapping the lid of his snuff
box and glancing occasionally at the
father confessor out of his unfathomable
gray eye3, that gloomy son of the church
had gradually risen to his full height. At
each slow-dropping phrase the expression
of horror deepened on his countenance,
and as the abbot ended he lifted his right
arm and pronounced a curse upon Mendl
zabel, such as only the lips of an ex-in-qulsltor
could have compassed, which
might have excited the envy of Torque
made, the austere, and even caused a
smile of satisfaction to sit upon the grim
lips of San Vicente Ferrer, the scourge of
the Jews.
The prior heard him to the end of the
anathema.
"And then?" he said, quietly.
The dark monk stared down nt his chief,
as he sat placidly fingering his Episcopal
ring and smiling. Was It possible that in
such an awful crisis he remained un
moved? "The day of anathemas is over," he said;
"the power of words to loose or to bind,
so far as the world Is concerned, Is de
parted. But steel can still strike and lead,
kill. We must use means. Father Anselmo
we must use means"
He motioned the confessor to a seat and
passed him his snuffbox open, from which
the dark monk took a pinch mechanically
his lips still working, like the sea after a
storm, In a low continuous mutter of,
Latin curses.
"I have found my Instruments!" said tho
prior. "They are within the walls of tho
Abbey of Montblanch at this moment.
And we have just two months In which to
do our business!"
The father confessor, obeying the beck
oning eyebrow of his superior Inclined his
ear closer, and the prior whispered Into It
for some minutes. As he proceeded, doubt,
hope, expectation, certainty, joy, flitted
across the monk's face. He clasped hla
hands as the abbot finished.
"God in His heaven defend His poor
children and 'punish the transgressor!"
"Amen!" said the abbot, a llttlo drily,
"and I shall do what I can to assist Him
upon the earth!"
CHAPTER X.
These were memorable days for all tho
three youths, who so unexpectedly found
themselves within the Convent of Mont-'
blanch. The Chrlstlno soldiery, having
fraternized with the abbey cooks, and
having been treated well from the abbey,,
cellars, departed about their business,
leaving guards behind them to watch the'
exits and entrances of the hill-set mon-
astery. ;
Then a peace majestic and apparently
eternal as the circle of the mountains set-4
tied down upon Montblanch. Of all tho
men who dwelt there, monk and novice,
lay brother and serving man, only two
the Abbot Baltasar and the gloomy con
fessor, knew that the Abbey of the Vir
gin, after existing 600 years and increas
ing in riches and dignity all the while, had
but eight weeks more to live Its sweef
cloistered life.
But to the three young men, altogether5
relieved from any cares of mind, body or
estate, these days of peace revealed new
worlds. The sweet-tongued bells that
called dreamily to morning prayer awoko
them In their cells. The soft yet fresh
mountain air that came In through their
open windows, the chanted psalms in a
strange tongue, the walks to the caves of
the hermits and the sanctuaries of tho
saints up and down the mountain steeps
had gone far to convince Jphn Mortimer
that there was religion In the world before
the coming of his father's primitive Meth
odism. Even halr-bralned Rollo grew
less argumentative, and It was remarked
that on several occasions he left his long
sword "Kllllecrankie" behind him when
he went to the conventional chapel.
As for Brother Hllarlo, he became so
saintly that his manservant Francois, who
regretted bitterly the Palais Roynle and.
Its Joys, haunted him with offcers to con-
vey mission or missives to la petite Con-'
cha of Sarria with the utmost discretion
only to be repulsed with scorn.
The abbot cultivated the society of alt
the three youths, but as the Englishman)
spoke little French and no Spanish, as the
manner of his nation Is, their Intercourse,
was of course restricted. Nevertheless,
the affair of the Prlorato wine went for.)
ward apace, and the bargain was struck
with the almoner of the convent at a rate
which satisfied all parties.
But the preference of the abbot for thoi
headstrong Scot of Fife was too evident
to be ignored, and many were the specula
tions among the brethren as to what
might be the purpose of Don Baltasar In
thus spending so much of his time with a
stripling heretic.
The abbot sounded the depths of thJ
young man. He met his Scottish caution
with a frank confession of his purpose.
"I am putting my life and the lives of
all these good nd holy men In yourk
hands, Don Rollo," he said. "Any day
there may be a Nationalist army here.
Their outposts are watching us even now.
A fugitive was pursued to the very altae
of sanctuary the other night! What, you
saw him? Ah, of course, It was the night
when our pleasant acquaintanceship be
gan. Frankly, then, we are all Carlists'
here, Don Rollo. We stand for the King;
who alone will stand for us."
"Your secret, or any secret Is safe with)
me," said Rollo, grandly turning hla
quick, frank eyes upon the prior, "not
death, no, nor torture, could drag a word
from me against my will."
The abbot perused him with his eye&
thoughtfully for a moment. .
"No. I do not think they would." hdi
said slowly, and without his usual smlle.l
"Further, I would desire to enlist you
as a recruit," ho went on, after a pause.
"There are many English fighting In our
ranks, but? few of your brave Northern
nation. Don Rollo, we need such men n3(
you are. We can give them a career. In-'
deed, I have at present a mission in hand
such as might make tho fortune of a
brave man. It Is worth a General's com
mission If rightly carried through. Not
many young men have such a chance at
22. Ah, rogue, rogue, I heard of your do
ings the other night down at the Inn' of
San Vicente, and of how with your sola
sword you held at bay a score of Mlqucl
ltes and Arragonese gipsies, smart fellows
with their knives all of them."
The abbot paused a little ere he mado
the plunge. Perhaps even his steadfast
pulse felt the gravity of the occasion.
Then he began to speak lightly, rapidly,
almosC nervously, with the sharp staccato
utterance with which Don Baltasar con
cealed his Intense emotion.
"Tho commission is a great one," said
the abbot. "This great order and all the
servants of God In Spain depend for their
lives on you. If you succeed, D.on Carlos
will assuredly sit on the throne of his
fathers; If you fall, there Is an end. But
it Is necessary that you should carry with
you your two friends. I, on my part, will
give you a guide who knows every pass
and bridlepath, every cave and shelter
stone betwixt here and Madrid."
"Then I am to go to Madrid?"
"Not, as I hope, to Madrid, but tto La
Granja. where your work will await you.
It Is as you may know, a palace on the
slopes of the Guadarrama Mountains,
much frequented by the court of tho
Queen Regent at Madrid."
"There Is to be no bloodshed among tha
prisoners?" said Rollo; "fighting is very,
well, but? I am not going to be art or part
In any shootings of unarmed men!"
"My friend," said the abbot, with af,
fectionate confidentiality, laying his arm'
on the young man's sleeve. "I give you
my word of honor. All you have to do la
to bring two amiable and Catholic ladles
here, the lady Christina and her little
maid. They are eager co be reconciled to
their Mother Church, but are prevented
by ev-. counsellors. They will come glad
ly enough, I doubt not. as soon as they
are Informed of their destination."
(To be continued.)