y his comrades.

I dismounted and went up to the place, and saw the vestiges of a fire and
a broken bottle. The sons of plunder had been there very lately. I left
a New Testament and some tracts amongst the ruins, and hastened away.

The sun had dispelled the mists and was beaming very hot; we rode on for
about an hour, when I heard the neighing of a horse in our rear, and our
guide said that there was a party of horsemen behind. Our mules were
good, and they did not overtake us for at least twenty minutes. The
foremost rider was a gentleman in a fashionable travelling dress; a
little way behind were an officer, two soldiers, and a servant in livery.
I heard the principal horseman, on overtaking Anthonio, enquiring who I
was, and whether I was French or English. He was told I was an English
gentleman, travelling. He then asked whether I understood Portuguese;
the man said I understood it, but that he believed I spoke French and
Italian better. The gentleman then spurred on his horse and accosted me,
not in Portuguese, or in French, or Italian, but in the purest English
that I have ever heard spoken by a foreigner. It had indeed nothing of
foreign accent or pronunciation in it, and had I not known by the
countenance of the speaker that he was no Englishman (for there is a
peculiarity in the English countenance which, though it cannot be
described, is sure to betray the Englishman), I should have concluded
that I was conversing with a countryman. He continued in company and
discourse until we arrived at Pegoens.

Pegoens consists of about two or three houses and an inn; there is
likewise a species of barrack, where half a dozen soldiers are stationed.
In the whole of Portugal there is no place of worse reputation, and the
inn is nicknamed _Estalagem de Ladroens_, or the hostelry of thieves; for
it is there that the banditti of the wilderness, which extends around it
on every side for leagues, are in the habit of coming and spending the
fruits of their criminal daring; there they dance and sing, feast on
fricasseed rabbits and olives, and drink the muddy but strong wine of the
Alemtejo. An enormous fire, fed by the trunk of a cork-tree, was blazing
in a niche on the left hand on entering the spacious kitchen; by it,
seething, were several large jars, which emitted no disagreeable odour,
and reminded me that I had not yet broken my fast, although it was now
nearly one o'clock and I had ridden five leagues. Some