ch is
called the Cape. Certainly in the whole world there is no bolder coast
than the Gallegan shore. There is an air of stern and savage grandeur in
everything around, which strangely captivates the imagination. After
gazing from the summit of the Cape for nearly an hour we descended to
the village. On reaching the house where we had taken up our habitation,
I flung myself on a rude and dirty bed, and was soon asleep.

I was suddenly, however, seized roughly by the shoulder and nearly
dragged from the bed. I looked up in amazement, and I beheld hanging
over me a wild and uncouth figure; it was that of an elderly man, built
as strong as a giant, in the habiliments of a fisherman; in his hand was
a rusty musket.

MYSELF: Who are you and what do you want? By what authority do you thus
presume to interfere with me?

FIGURE: By the authority of the Justicia of Finisterra. Follow me
peaceably, Calros, or it will be the worse with you.

"Calros," said I, "what does the person mean?" I thought it, however,
most prudent to obey his command, and followed him down the staircase.
The shop and the portal were now thronged with the inhabitants of
Finisterra, men, women, and children. Through this crowd the figure
pushed his way with an air of authority. "It is Calros! It is Calros!"
said a hundred voices; "he has come to Finisterra at last, and the
justicia have now got hold of him."

At last we reached a house of rather larger size than the rest; my guide
having led me into a long, low room, placed me in the middle of the
floor, and then hurrying to the door, he endeavoured to repulse the
crowd who strove to enter with us. I now looked around the room. It was
rather scantily furnished; I could see nothing but some tubs and
barrels, the mast of a boat, and a sail or two. Seated upon the tubs
were three or four men coarsely dressed, like fishermen or shipwrights.
The principal personage was a surly, ill-tempered-looking fellow of
about thirty-five, whom I discovered to be the alcalde of Finisterra.
After I had looked about me for a minute, the alcalde, giving his
whiskers a twist, thus addressed me:

"Who are you, where is your passport, and what brings you to
Finisterra?"

MYSELF: I am an Englishman. Here is my passport, and I came to see
Finisterra.

This reply seemed to discomfit them for a moment. They looked at each
other, then at my passport. At length the alcalde, striking it with his
finger, bellowed forth, "This i