FIRST NIGHT AT THE RUINS. 303 



into which our friends were about that time turning. 

 Ours were set up in the back corridor, fronting the court- 

 yard. This corridor consisted of open doors and pilasters 

 alternately. The wind and rain were sweeping through, 

 and, unfortunately, our beds were not out of reach of 

 the spray. They had been set up with some labour on 

 four piles of stones each, and we could not then change 

 their position. We had no spare articles to put up as 

 screens ; but, happily, two umbrellas, tied up with meas- 

 uring rods and wrapped in a piece of matting, had sur- 

 vived the wreck of the mountain-roads. These Mr. C. 

 and I secured at the head of our beds. Pawling swung 

 a hammock across the corridor so high that the sweep 

 of the rain only touched the foot ; and so passed our first 

 night at Palenque. In the morning, umbrellas, bed- 

 clothes, wearing apparel, and hammocks were wet 

 through, and there was not a dry place to stand on. 

 Already we considered ourselves booked for a rheuma- 

 tism. We had looked to our residence at Palenque as 

 the end of troubles, and for comfort and pleasure, but 

 all we could do was to change the location of our beds 

 to places which promised a better shelter for the next 

 night. 



A good breakfast would have done much to restore 

 our equanimity ; but, unhappily, we found that the tor- 

 tillas which we had brought out the day before, proba- 

 bly made of half-mouldy corn, by the excessive damp- 

 ness were matted together, sour, and spoiled. We 

 went through our beans, eggs, and chocolate without 

 any substitute for bread, and, as often before in time of 

 trouble, composed ourselves with a cigar. Blessed be 

 the man who invented smoking, the soother and com- 

 poser of a troubled spirit, allayer of angry passions, a 

 comfort under the loss of breakfast, and to the roamer 



