San Roque 



We rode awav with all the maledictions on our heads, 

 troubling our heads as little as their own vermin did theirs. 

 We crossed the Guadiaro, which was broad and rapid, and 

 came up to our girths. Passing the venta del Guadiaro^ we 

 came to some hills, from the brows of which we looked back 

 on the lofty, ragged mountains which we had slept among 

 last night, and saw their blue peaks all purpled with the 

 carmine sunset. The darkness came upon us in the hollows 

 and dino;les of the s;reat cork wood. 



Afterwards we emerged upon a dehesa^ which seemed 

 endless, and the road was hard to keep by the light of the 

 evening star, which, however, shone very broad and clear, 

 as if she meant to do all she could for us. Once I took a 

 ridge of rocks for San Roque ; but it appeared as if we 

 should never get to the end of our day's work. We heard 

 the eight-o'clock gun boom over the bay of Gibraltar, and 

 echo from the cliffs of Algeciras, and we hailed with enthu- 

 siasm the voice of the British lion. Still on and on, over 

 hill and vallev, and knoll and dell, till at last the lights of a 

 real and final San Roque twinkled in the distance. 



I was quite knocked up, and on reaching Macrea's Hotel, 

 was unable to do justice to the mutton chops and Bass's 

 pale ale, on which we supped. I had just strength remain- 

 ing to go round the room and rejoice with patriotic eye over 

 the truly British prints with which the walls were hung, 

 principally sporting pieces and illustrations of Harrison 

 Ainsworth's romances. The mahogany sideboard, too, was 

 ranged with many decanters and cruet-stands, and mustard- 

 pots, and forks, and spoons, — things unknown to the hostels 

 of Spain, where you have your plate and pipkin set before 

 you, and pull your own navaja (clasp-knife) out of your 

 sash to despatch the comestibles. Sometimes by earnest 

 entreaty one may get a wooden spoon among a large party ; 



163 L 



