an indecency to be thus transported from
stuffy cases of doubtful relics and the chill darkness of earth-smelling
passages, to this place where unseen suppliant voices assailed the Deity
with a perpetual song.

The three youths blinked at the sudden light as they stepped within, and
each of them glanced at their dress, apprehending with the instinct
common to those who find themselves unexpectedly in crowded places, that
it must be disordered. They followed their guide mechanically to the
Holy Water laver. Etienne made the necessary signs and a low reverence
towards the altar. Rollo's devotion to the Presbyterian form of worship
did not prevent his imitating his companion with the easy adaptability
of youth to place and circumstance, but quite unexpectedly they ran upon
a rock in the matter of John Mortimer.

"Do as I do, you obstinate ass!" hissed Rollo in his ear. "Take some of
the water on one finger and make the sign of the cross--that is, if you
want to sleep in an unpricked skin this night!"

"Be hanged if I do," muttered John Mortimer, between his teeth. "I am
not much given to religion myself, but my father is a Primitive
Methodist, and built them a church in Chorley. And I never could look
the old man in the face again if I dotted myself all over with their
heathen holy water!"

"It's little of the Abbot's Priorato you'll ever ship then, my good
friend," muttered Rollo; "but please yourself!"

The Englishman had rooted his heels to the pavement and squared his
hands by his sides as one who would in nowise be dislodged from his
resolve.

"I do not care if I never put a drop of wine into cask," he said,
doggedly. "I won't go back to Chorley after having denied my father's
brand of religion, even if my own vintage is of the poorest."

"There's more ways of killing a cat than choking her with cream!"
growled Rollo; "take this, then, you stiff-necked English deevil!"

And bowing towards the altar, and again towards the Father Confessor,
who had been regarding them with a sinister curiosity, with the utmost
gravity Rollo made certain gestures with his hands, and dipping his
fingers again in the laver, he made the sign of the cross on his
friend's forehead and breast, before the Englishman had time to protest.

"In fulfilment of a vow!" he exclaimed in a whisper to Father Anselmo.
"My companion has promised to St. Vicente Ferrer of Valencia that he
will not make the sign of the cross upon his person till he