told us was
his name. "But we only have black-pudding once a week, and we ought to
have it twice. We are agitating for it now, and as the padrone knows the
value of a good servant I expect we shall get it."

Sebastien would not leave us again and became our shadow, sublimely
indifferent to the rain which every now and then came down in
waterspouts. To this day we feel that we saw Manresa under a cloud. It
was a study in grey; and if we paid it another visit in sunshine we
should probably not know it again. For this H. C. was responsible in
preaching up his rainy season: the true fact being that the next day and
for ever after we had blue skies and cloudless sunshine.

Manresa is rich in outlines. Its church towers stand out conspicuously
on the summit of the rock on whose slopes much of the town is built. On
leaving the inn we saw before us one of the old churches standing in
solemn repose, grey and silent above the houses. The interior proved
uninteresting in spite of the nave, wide after the manner of the Catalan
churches. Sebastien thought every moment spent here waste of time. "It
is cold and ugly," he declared, constituting himself a judge--and
perhaps not far wrong. "It makes me shiver. But when the altar is
lighted up on a Sunday evening, and the place is full of people, and the
organ plays, and the priest gives the Benediction, then it is passable."

We felt inclined to agree with him, and wished we could see the effect
of a Benediction service, but as this was not possible we left the
church to its silent gloom and shadows, Sebastien cheerfully leading the
way.

[Illustration: MANRESA.]

The streets, decayed and old-world looking, had a wonderfully
picturesque and pathetic element about them, and on a bright day would
have been full of charm. A canal ran through one of them, spanned by a
picturesque single-arch stone bridge. On each side the houses rose out
of the water, reminding one of Gerona or a Venetian street; handsome,
palatial, full of interesting detail; a multitude of balconies, many of
rich wrought ironwork; many a Gothic window with deep mullions; many an
overhanging casement, from which you might have dropped into the running
stream. Waterspouts stood out like gargoyles, and slanting tiled roofs
were full of colouring. Towering above these rose a lovely church
tower, splendid with Gothic windows, rich ornamentation and an openwork
parapet, with a small round turret at one corner.

We stood