"In Spain," he said, "no gambit to conversation is known. I might have spoken of the weather, of the crowd, of the king--I chose to voice my faults."
The priest shook his head, still smiling.
"It is of no importance," he said quietly; "you are a Russian, of course?"
The stranger stared at him blankly. These Jesuits--strange stories had been told about them. A body with a secret organisation, spread over the world--it had been said that they were hand-in-hand with the police----
"I knew you were a Russian; I lived for some time in St. Petersburg. Besides, you are only Spanish to your feet," the Jesuit looked down at the stranger's boots,--"they are not Spanish; they are much too short."
The stranger laughed again. After all, this was a confirmation of his views of Jesuits.
"You, my father," he accused in his turn, "are a teacher; a professor at the College of Madrid: a professor of languages." He stopped and looked up to the awning that spread above him, seeking inspiration. "A professor of Greek," he said slowly.
"Arabic," corrected the other; "but that deduction isn't clever, because the Jesuits at Madrid are all engaged in scholastic work."
"Because we both came by the same train," said the calm priest, "and for the same purpose."
"To witness the eclipse," said the priest.
A few minutes later the stranger watched the black-robed figure with the broad-rimmed hat disappearing in the crowd with a little feeling of irritation.
He drank the remainder of his _café en tasse_, paid the waiter, and stepping out into the stream, was swept up the hill to where a number of English people were gathered, with one eye upon their watches and another upon the livid shadow that lay upon the western sky.
He found a place on the slope of the hill tolerably clear of sightseers, and spread a handkerchief carefully on the bare baked earth and sat down. He had invested a penny in a strip of smoked glass, and through this he peered critically at the sun. The hour of contact was at hand, and he could see the thin rim of the obstruction cover the edge of the glaring ball.
"Say, this will do; it's not so crowded."
The stranger buried his chin in the high collar of his _cappa_, pulled down his felt hat over his eyes, and from beneath its brim gazed eagerly at the newcomers.