One does not disturb the devout." He made a movement to close the door, but Marcos put his thickly booted foot in the interstice.

Then he placed his shoulder against the weather-worn door and pushed it open, sending the monk staggering back.
Sarrion followed and was in time to place himself between the monk and the bell towards which the devotee was running.
"No, my friend," he said, "we will not ring the bell." "You have no business here," said the holy man, looking from one to the other with sullen eyes.
"So far as that goes, no more have you," said Marcos.

"There are no monasteries in Spain now.

Sit down on that bench and keep quiet." He turned and glanced at his father.
"Yes," said Sarrion, with his grim smile, "I will watch him." "Where shall I find Leon de Mogente ?" said Marcos to the monk.

"I do not wish to disturb other persons." The monk reflected for a moment.
"It is the third door on the right," he said at length, nodding his shaven head towards a long passage seen through the open door.
Marcos went in, his spurred heels clanking loudly in the half-empty house.