The old man replied, that two travellers had arrived
who were in need of lodging. "I cannot be disturbed at this time
of night," said the woman; "they will be wanting supper, and there
is nothing in the house; they must go elsewhere." She was going to
shut the window, but I cried that we wanted no supper, but merely
resting place for ourselves and horses - that we had come that day
from Astorga, and were dying with fatigue. "Who is that speaking?"
cried the woman. "Surely that is the voice of Gil, the German
clock-maker from Pontevedra. Welcome, old companion; you are come
at the right time, for my own is out of order. I am sorry I have
kept you waiting, but I will admit you in a moment."
The window was slammed to, presently a light shone through the
crevices of the door, a key turned in the lock, and we were
admitted.
CHAPTER XXV
Villafranca - The Pass - Gallegan Simplicity - The Frontier Guard - The
Horse-shoe - Gallegan Peculiarities - A Word on Language - The
Courier - Wretched Cabins - Host and Guests - Andalusians.
"Ave Maria," said the woman; "whom have we here? This is not Gil
the clock-maker." "Whether it be Gil or Juan," said I, "we are in
need of your hospitality, and can pay for it." Our first care was
to stable the horses, who were much exhausted. We then went in
search of some accommodation for ourselves. The house was large
and commodious, and having tasted a little water, I stretched
myself on the floor of one of the rooms on some mattresses which
the woman produced, and in less than a minute was sound asleep.
The sun was shining bright when I awoke. I walked forth into the
market-place, which was crowded with people, I looked up, and could
see the peaks of tall black mountains peeping over the tops of the
houses. The town lay in a deep hollow, and appeared to be
surrounded by hills on almost every side. "Quel pays barbare!"
said Antonio, who now joined me; "the farther we go, my master, the
wilder everything looks. I am half afraid to venture into Galicia;
they tell me that to get to it we must clamber up those hills: the
horses will founder." Leaving the market-place I ascended the wall
of the town, and endeavoured to discover the gate by which we
should have entered the preceding night; but I was not more
successful in the bright sunshine than in the darkness. The town
in the direction of Astorga appeared to be hermetically sealed.
I was eager to enter Galicia, and finding that the horses were to a
certain extent recovered from the fatigue of the journey of the
preceding day, we again mounted and proceeded on our way.
