Notwithstanding we were in the
capital of the Avellanas, it was with the utmost difficulty that I
procured a scanty handful for my dessert, and of these more than
one half were decayed. The people of the house informed me that
the nuts were intended for exportation, and that they never dreamt
either of partaking of them themselves or of offering them to their
guests.
At an early hour on the following day we reached Colunga, a
beautiful village on a rising ground, thickly planted with chestnut
trees. It is celebrated, at least in the Asturias, as being the
birth-place of Arguelles, the father of the Spanish constitution.
As we dismounted at the door of the posada, where we intended to
refresh ourselves, a person who was leaning out of an upper window
uttered an exclamation and disappeared. We were yet at the door,
when the same individual came running forth and cast himself on the
neck of Antonio. He was a good-looking young man, apparently about
five and twenty, genteelly dressed, with a Montero cap on his head.
Antonio looked at him for a moment, and then with a Ah, Monsieur,
est ce bien vous? shook him affectionately by the hand. The
stranger then motioned him to follow him, and they forthwith
proceeded to the room above.
