Gabriel stood erect sustaining Sagrario, who seemed
almost fainting from the strength of her feelings; he
looked up at the luminous space with almost priestly




THE SHADOW OF THE CATHEDRAL 3"

avity, and said, whispering close to tíie young woman's
r:

"Our life will be like a deserted garden, where amid
lien trunks and dead branches fresh foliage springs up.
impanion, let us love one another. Above our misery
pariahs let spring arise. It will be a sad spring,
thout fruit, but it will have 6owers. The sun shines
r those who are in the open, but for us, dear com-
nion, it is very far. But from the black depths of
x well we will clasp each other, raising our heads, and
ough his heat will not revive us, we will adore faim
:e a distant star."



CHAPTER X

In the beginning of July Gabriel began his nocturnal
watch in the Cathedral.
At nightfall he went down into the cloister, and at
the Puerta del Mollete, joined the other watchman, a
sickly-looldng man who coughed as badly as Luna, and
who never left off his cloak even in the height of
summer.
"Come along, we are going to lock up !" said the bell-
ringer, rattling his bunch of keys.
After the two men had entered the church, he locked
the doors from outside and walked away.
As the days were long, there still remained two hours
of daylight after the watchmen entered the Cathedral.
"All the church is ours, companion,*' said the other
watchman.
And like a man used to the imposing appearance of
the deserted church, he settled himself comfortably in
the sacristy as in his own house, opening his supper
basket on the chests, and spreading out his eatables be-
tween candelabras and crucifixes.
