into an omelet, and we have nothing.--

Alas! said the traveller, harassed as I am, I want nothing but a bed.--I
have one as soft as is in Alsatia, said the host.

--The stranger, continued he, should have slept in it, for 'tis my best
bed, but upon the score of his nose.--He has got a defluxion, said the
traveller.--Not that I know, cried the host.--But 'tis a camp-bed, and
Jacinta, said he, looking towards the maid, imagined there was not
room in it to turn his nose in.--Why so? cried the traveller, starting
back.--It is so long a nose, replied the host.--The traveller fixed
his eyes upon Jacinta, then upon the ground--kneeled upon his right
knee--had just got his hand laid upon his breast--Trifle not with my
anxiety, said he rising up again.--'Tis no trifle, said Jacinta, 'tis
the most glorious nose!--The traveller fell upon his knee again--laid
his hand upon his breast--then, said he, looking up to heaven, thou hast
conducted me to the end of my pilgrimage--'Tis Diego.

The traveller was the brother of the Julia, so often invoked that night
by the stranger as he rode from Strasburg upon his mule; and was
come, on her part, in quest of him. He had accompanied his sister from
Valadolid across the Pyrenean mountains through France, and had many an
entangled skein to wind off in pursuit of him through the many meanders
and abrupt turnings of a lover's thorny tracks.

--Julia had sunk under it--and had not been able to go a step farther
than to Lyons, where, with the many disquietudes of a tender heart,
which all talk of--but few feel--she sicken'd, but had just strength to
write a letter to Diego; and having conjured her brother never to see
her face till he had found him out, and put the letter into his hands,
Julia took to her bed.

Fernandez (for that was her brother's name)--tho' the camp-bed was as
soft as any one in Alsace, yet he could not shut his eyes in it.--As
soon as it was day he rose, and hearing Diego was risen too, he entered
his chamber, and discharged his sister's commission.

The letter was as follows:

'Seig. Diego,

'Whether my suspicions of your nose were justly excited or not--'tis
not now to inquire--it is enough I have not had firmness to put them to
farther tryal.

'How could I know so little of myself, when I sent my Duenna to forbid
your coming more under my lattice? or how could I know so little of you,
Diego, as to imagine you would not have staid one day in Valadolid to
have giv