accommodation, sirs,"
he said, as he lighted candles and marshalled us to his best rooms.
"Last year at the fair we were full to overflowing--not an available
hole or corner to spare. This year we are comparatively empty, simply
because the town corporation have not organised the usual fetes, which
bring us visitors from all parts of the country. Nevertheless we may be
full to-morrow."

"It is an annual fair, then?"

"Very much so, and one of the most celebrated in Spain. This is the
first night, to-morrow the first day. That and the next day are
comparatively quiet; the day after comes the horse and cattle fair, and
the whole town is crowded with a rough, noisy set of people. You would
hardly think them agreeable."

"In that case our visit to Gerona must terminate within forty-eight
hours. The train which brought us to-night shall take us on to
Barcelona."

"Where you have it more civilised but will not be more welcome," said
our polite host, still leading the way.

The corridors were paved with stone, the ceilings were lofty. Turning
into a narrower passage to the right, we looked into the yard, where our
famous omnibus reposed; the horses had been taken out and were marching
up to their stable. This passage led to a salon, out of which one of our
bedrooms opened; our host had given us of his best. Placing one of the
candles down and lighting others, he turned to see that everything was
in order. We opened the window and looked out to the main street--long,
narrow, almost in darkness. Electric lamps here and there gave little
light. "Why so?" we asked the landlord.

"Because we get our motive force from the river; and just now the river
is almost dry," he replied. "So they have to work with a machine, and
the machine is not strong enough to light the whole town. That is why I
don't have it in the hotel. One day we should have illumination, the
next total darkness. Better go on in the old way."

"There was quite a riot at the station," we remarked; "we were told it
had to do with conscription. At one time we thought they were going to
storm the omnibus."

"You were well-informed," said the landlord; "it is the conscription.
Fathers, brothers and cousins have assembled to see the poor fellows
depart. Generally speaking they all turn up again after a time, like bad
money; but on this occasion who knows? Raw recruits as they are, many
may get drafted off to Cuba, with small chance of ever seeing their
native l