mass, drank, and drank largely, of the white wine contained
in one of the goblets. But when I had got out of the hands of the two
monks, and was able to breathe the pure air of the country, I
experienced a lively satisfaction.

The right of asylum accorded to some churches was one of the most
obnoxious privileges among those of which the revolution of 1789 rid
France. In 1807, this right still existed in Spain, and belonged, I
believe, to all the cathedrals. I learnt, during my stay at Barcelona,
that there was, in a little cloister contiguous to the largest church of
the town, a brigand,--a man guilty of several assassinations, who lived
quietly there, guaranteed against all pursuit by the sanctity of the
place. I wished to assure myself with my own eyes of the reality of the
fact, and I went with my friend Rodriguez into the little cloister in
question. The assassin was then eating a meal which a woman had just
brought him. He easily guessed the object of our visit, and made
immediately such demonstrations as convinced us that, if the asylum was
safe for the robber, it would not be so long for us. We retired at once,
deploring that, in a country calling itself civilized, there should
still exist such crying, such monstrous abuses.

In order to succeed in our geodesic operations, to obtain the
coeoperation of the inhabitants of the villages near our stations, it was
desirable for us to be recommended to the priests. We went,
therefore,--M. Lanusse, the French Vice-Consul, M. Biot, and I,--to pay
a visit to the Archbishop of Valencia, to solicit his protection. This
archbishop, a man of very tall figure, was then chief of the
Franciscans; his costume more than negligent, his gray robe, covered
with tobacco, contrasted with the magnificence of the archiepiscopal
palace. He received us with kindness, and promised us all the
recommendations we desired; but, at the moment of taking leave of him,
the whole affair seemed to be spoiled. M. Lanusse and M. Biot went out
of the reception room without kissing the hand of his grace, although he
had presented it to each of them very graciously. The archbishop
indemnified himself on my poor person. A movement, which was very near
breaking my teeth, a gesture which I might justly call a blow of the
fist, proved to me that the chief of the Franciscans, notwithstanding
his vow of humility, had taken offence at the want of ceremony in my
fellow visitors. I was going to complain of the a