Gabriel felt annoyed by the curious glances of the clergy, and of the devout entering the church. They were people accustomed to seeing each other daily at the same hour, and they felt their curiosity excited by seeing a stranger breaking in on the monotony of their lives.
He drew back to the further end of the cloister, then some words from the beggars made him retrace his steps.
"Ah! here comes old 'Vara de palo.'"[1]
[Footnote 1: Wooden staff.]
"Good-day, Señor Esteban!"
A small man dressed in black, and shaved like a cleric, came down the steps.
"Esteban! Esteban!" cried Luna, placing himself between him and the door of the Presentacion.
"Wooden Staff" looked at him with his clear eyes like amber, the quiet eyes of a man used to spending long hours in the Cathedral, with never a rebellious thought arising to disturb his immovable beatitude. He stood doubting for some time, as though he could scarcely credit the remote resemblance in this thin, pale face, to another that lived in his memory, but at last, with a pained surprise, he became convinced of its identity.
"Gabriel! my brother! is it really you?"
And the rigidly set face of the Cathedral servant, which seemed to have acquired the immobility of its pillars and statues, relaxed with an affectionate smile.