His keen and careful eyes noted a change in Marcos.  Juanita’s helplessness seemed to have aroused a steady determination to help her at any cost.  Weakness is an appeal that strength rarely resists.

It was Marcos who finally discovered an opportunity, and with characteristic patience he sifted it, and organised a plan of action before making anything known to his father.

“There is a service in the Cathedral of La Seo tomorrow evening,” he announced suddenly at midnight one night on his return from a long and tiring day.  “All the girls of the convent schools will be there.”

“Ah!” said Sarrion, looking his son up and down with a speculative eye.  “Well?”

“My aunt...  Sor Teresa... is likely to be there.  She has returned to Saragossa to-day.  The Mother Superior—­by the grace of God—­has indigestion.  I have got a letter safely through to Sor Teresa.  The service is at seven o’clock.  The Archbishop will go in procession round the Cathedral to bless the people.  The Cathedral is very dark.  There will be considerable confusion when the doors are opened and the people crowd out.  I have a few men—­of the road, from the Posada de los Reyes—­who will add to the confusion under my instructions.  I think if you help me we can get Juanita separated from the rest.  I will take her home and see to it that she arrives at the school at the same time as the others.  We can arrange it, I think.”

“Yes,” answered Sarrion.  “I have no doubt that we can arrange it.”

And they sat far into the night, after the manner of conspirators, discussing Marcos’ plans, which were, like himself, quite simple and direct.

The Cathedral of the Seo in Saragossa is one of the most ancient in Spain, and bears in its architecture some resemblance to the Moorish mosque that once stood on the same spot.  It is a huge square building, dimly lighted by windows set high up in the stupendous roof.  The choir is a square set down in the middle—­a church within a Cathedral.  There are two principal entrances, one on the Plaza de la Seo, where the fountain is, and where, in the sunshine, the philosophers of Saragossa sit and do nothing from morn till eve.  The other entrance is that which is known as the grand portal, and with a wrong-headedness characteristic of the Peninsular, it is situated in a little street where no man passes.

Marcos knew that the grand portal was used by the religious communities and devout persons who came to church for the good motive, while those who praised God that man might see them entered, and quitted the Cathedral by the more public doorway on the Plaza.  He knew also that the convent schools took their station just within the great porch, which, during the day, is the parade ground for those authorised beggars who wear their number and licence suspended round their necks as a guarantee of good faith.