It had been delicious
weather, suddenly the Lord breathed forth a frozen blast, the
severity of which was almost intolerable; no human beings but
ourselves ventured forth.
We traversed snow-covered plains, and
passed through villages and towns to all appearance deserted. The
robbers kept close in their caves and hovels, but the cold nearly
killed us. We reached Aranjuez late on Christmas Day, and I got
into the house of an Englishman, where I swallowed nearly a pint of
brandy; it affected me no more than warm water.
On the following day we arrived at Madrid, where we had the good
fortune to find everything tranquil and quiet. The Contrabandista
continued with me for two days, at the end of which time he
returned to Cordova upon the uncouth animal on which I had ridden
throughout the journey. I had myself purchased the jaca, whose
capabilities I had seen on the route, and which I imagined might
prove useful in future journeys. The Contrabandista was so
satisfied with the price which I gave him for his beast, and the
general treatment which he had experienced at my hands during the
time of his attendance upon me, that he would fain have persuaded
me to retain him as a servant, assuring me that, in the event of my
compliance, he would forget his wife and children and follow me
through the world. I declined, however, to accede to his request,
though I was in need of a domestic; I therefore sent him back to
Cordova, where, as I subsequently learned, he died suddenly, about
a week after his return.
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