rmon, but it requires a practitioner with an inborn faculty for the
art to achieve the triumphs of somnolence which stand to my credit. I
have taken a nap on horseback; I have marched for miles, a musket on my
shoulder, in complete slumberous unconsciousness; I have nodded while
Phelps was acting, snoozed while Mario was singing, and played the
marmot while Remenyi was fiddling; awful confession, I have dozed
through an important debate in the House of Commons! I am yawning at
present. It is to be hoped the reader is not. And so I burned daylight
the while we drove through a country reputed to be pregnant with
surprises of scenery until, at long last, the diligence drew up in the
straggling street of Tolosa. We halted here for dinner, and resumed our
journey with a fresh team at an enlivening speed, until about two miles
outside the town we came to an abrupt stop.

"An accident, driver?"

"No, senor, but the Carlists."

Some of my fellow-passengers turned pale, the ladies did not know
whether to scream or consult their smelling-bottles; and before they
could decide, a tall, slight, gentlemanly-looking man of some
four-and-twenty years, with a sword by his side, a revolver in his belt,
an opera-glass slung across his shoulder, and a silver tassel depending
from a scarlet boina, the cap of the country, appeared at the hinder
door of the diligence, bowed, and asked for our papers. He glanced at
them much as a railway-guard would at a set of tickets, inquired if we
were carrying any arms or contraband despatches, and being answered in
the negative, gave us a polite "Go you with God," and motioned to the
driver that he might pass on. As we galloped off, all eyes were turned
in the direction of the stranger; he leisurely walked over a field
towards a hill, two peasants equipped with rifles and side-arms
following at his heels. They were young and strong, and wore no nearer
approach to uniform than their officer.

"This is abominable," cried a French commercial traveller (so I took him
to be), as soon as we had got out of hearing of the trio. "The notion of
these three miscreants stopping a whole coachful of travellers in broad
daylight is atrocious!"

"They did not detain us long," said I.

"They did us no harm," said another.

"And that officer, I am sure, was very polite, and looked quite a
D'Artagnan--so chivalrous and handsome," added one of the ladies.

"They are no better than bandits," said the commercial trav