Spirit of Adventure 



Harry has written that he is coming out by the steamer 

 of the 27th to console me in my exile. In any case, it 

 would be a very kind deed to go such a distance to console 

 a cheerful invalid (who has next to nothing the matter with 

 him), even if he were not otherwise than in the mind to 

 travel, for a start of fifteen hundred miles alone is not a 

 light undertaking; but in his case, wearied as he is with 

 that dreadful expedition over the western deserts, whose 

 hardships have made him cling the more to happy England, 

 it is an act of self-sacrificing friendship to exchange the 

 peace and quiet, and comfortable living of home, for the 

 stringy ollas and ravenous fleas of Spanish travel. 



It is my custom to take a walk during the hour or two 

 before sunset ; and one afternoon, having crossed Guadal- 

 quivir by the bridge of boats connecting Seville with Triana, 

 I passed through that suburb of gipsies, and the orange- 

 groves which line the road beyond, and coming out upon 

 the open country, continued my walk about half across the 

 plain lying between the river and the western range of hills. 

 It is true that this plain is not more than a league in 

 width ; but I knew that if I crossed it I should want to 

 ascend the hill, in order to look down upon the beautiful 

 city, lit with the slanting rays of sunset. Now, if I got to 

 the top of the hill within the sunset hour, I should have to 

 come back about five miles to Seville, in the dark. I thought 

 of going on, and taking my chance where I slept and what 

 became of me, and the spirit of adventure seized me there 

 and then. 



But I reflected, that in making an expedition of that sort 

 it would be better to set out prepared with a little money 

 for support, my six-barrelled revolver for defence, and a 

 more Iberian cast of get-up ; for as I then stood, or rather 

 sat, on the parapet of a little bridge, my costume was such 



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