se
cry, as if in anger that I had disturbed him from his feast of carrion.

And now for another subject. You are doubtless anxious to know what are
my projects, and why I am not by this time further advanced on my way to
Madrid; know then that the way to Madrid is beset with more perils than
harassed Christian in his route to the Eternal Kingdom. Almost all
communication is at an end between this place and the capital, the
diligences and waggons have ceased running, even the bold _arrieros_ or
muleteers are at a stand-still; and the reason is that the rural portion
of Spain, especially this part, is in a state of complete disorganisation
and of blackest horror. The three fiends, famine, plunder, and murder,
are playing their ghastly revels unchecked; bands of miscreants captained
by such--what shall I call them?--as Orejita and Palillos, are prowling
about in every direction, and woe to those whom they meet. A few days
since they intercepted an unfortunate courier, and after scooping out his
eyes put him to death with most painful tortures, and mangled his body in
a way not to be mentioned. Moreover, the peasantry, who have been
repeatedly plundered by these fellows, and who have had their horses and
cattle taken from them by the Carlists, being reduced with their families
to nakedness and the extreme of hunger, seize in rage and desperation
upon every booty which comes within their reach, a circumstance which can
awaken but little surprise.

This terrible state of things, staring me in the face on my arrival at
Seville, made me pause. I thought that the tempest might in some degree
subside, but hitherto I have been disappointed. My mind is at present
made up. I shall depart for Madrid in two or three days, at all risks.
The distance is 300 miles. I shall hire, in the first place, horses, and
a guide, as far as Cordova (twenty-six leagues). I shall have to pay a
great price, it is true, but I have money, praised be God, who inspired
me with the idea of putting fifty sovereigns in my pocket when I left
London. I should otherwise be helpless. From Cordova I must endeavour
to obtain horses to Val de Penas (twenty leagues), which is half way to
Madrid. Were I at Val de Penas, I should feel comparatively at ease; for
from thence I know the road, having traversed it in my ways from Madrid
to Grenada; it moreover runs through La Mancha, which, though infested
with banditti, is plain open ground, and if I could obt