in the midst of a violent attack, a gentleman
arrived whose visit I had expected, and had looked forward to with
great interest. It was the cura Carillo of Ticul, a village seven
leagues distant. A week after our arrival at the ruins the mayoral had
received a letter from him, asking whether a visit would be acceptable
to us. We had heard of him as a person who took more interest in the
antiquities of the country than almost any other, and who possessed
more knowledge on the subject. He had been in the habit of coming to
Uxmal alone to wander among the ruins, and we had contemplated an
excursion to Ticul on purpose to make his acquaintance. We were,
therefore, most happy to receive his overture, and advised him that we
should anxiously expect his visit. His first words to me were, that it
was necessary for me to leave the place and go with him to Ticul. I was
extremely reluctant to do so, but it was considered advisable by all.
He would not consent to my going alone, or with his servant, and the
next morning, instead of a pleasant visit to the ruins, he found
himself trotting home with a sick man at his heels. In consequence of
some misunderstanding, no coche was in readiness, and I set out on
horseback. It was my interval day, and at the moment the bare absence
of pain was a positively pleasant sensation. In this humour, in the
beginning of our ride, I listened with much interest to the cura's
exposition of different points and localities, but by degrees my
attention flagged, and finally my whole soul was fixed on the sierra,
which stood out before us at a distance of two leagues from San Jose.
Twice before I had crossed that sierra, and had looked upon it almost
with delight, as relieving the monotony of constant plains, but now it
was a horrible prospect. My pains increased as we advanced, and I
dismounted at the hacienda in a state impossible to be described. The
mayoral was away, the doors were all locked, and I lay down on some
bags in the corridor. Rest tranquillized me. There was but one Indian
to be found, and he told the cura that there were none to make a coche.
Those in the neighbourhood were sick, and the others were at work more
than a league away. It was impossible to continue on horseback, and,
fortunately, the mayoral came, who changed the whole face of things and
in a few minutes had men engaged in making a coche. The cura went on
before to prepare for my reception. In an hour my coche was ready, and
at