ning to the hotel in the corner of the Plaza de la Constitution,
Sarrion threw down on the table before Marcos the note that Father Muro
had given him. He made no comment.

"My dear uncle," the letter ran, "I am writing to advise you of my
decision to go into religion. I am prompted to communicate this to you
without delay by the remembrance of your many kindnesses to me. You will,
I know, agree with me that this step can only be for my happiness in this
world and the next. Your grateful niece.--JUANITA DE MOGENTE."

Marcos read the letter carefully, and then seeking in his pocket,
produced the note that Juanita had passed to him through the hole in the
wall of the convent school at Saragossa. It seemed that he carried with
him always the scrap of paper that she had hidden within her dress until
the moment that she gave it to him.

He laid the two letters side by side and compared them.

"The writing is the writing of Juanita," he said; "but the words are not.
They are spelt correctly!"

He folded the letters again, with his determined smile, and placed them
in his pocket. Sarrion, smoking a cigarette by the stove, glanced at his
son and knew that Juanita's fate was fixed. For good or ill, for
happiness or misery, she was destined to marry Marcos de Sarrion if the
whole church of Rome should rise up and curse his soul and hers for the
deed.

Sarrion appeared to have no suggestions to make. He continued to smoke
reflectively while he warmed himself at the stove. He was wise enough to
perceive that his must now be the secondary part. To possess power and to
resist the temptation to use it, is the task of kings. To quietly
relinquish the tiller of a younger life is a lesson that gray hairs have
to learn.

"I think," said Marcos at length, "that we must see Leon. He is her
guardian. We will give him a last chance."

"Will you warn him?" inquired Sarrion.

"Yes," replied Marcos, rising. "He may be here in Pampeluna. I think it
likely that he is. They are hard pressed. If they get the dispensation
from Rome they will hurry events. They will try to rush Juanita into
religion at once. And Leon's presence is indispensable. They are probably
ready and only awaiting the permission of the Vatican. They are all here
in Pampeluna, which is better than Saragossa for such work--better than
any city in Spain. They probably have Leon waiting here to give his
formal consent when required."

"Then let us go and find out," said