league of passages separated it from the outer door. If
everyone was in bed and asleep, we might knock away until daybreak.

We were growing concerned, when just as our old friend the watchman
arrived upon the scene, up rushed another functionary in breathless
agitation: the night porter of the hotel, and he carried great keys in
his hand.

"A thousand pardons, gentlemen," he began, as far as want of breath
would allow him. "I did not know any one was out and went for a short
walk just to breathe the midnight air and contemplate the stars. I heard
you knocking when quite a mile away. You have indeed the strength of
Hercules. And there is also something peculiar in this knocker. You may
hear it all over the town, but cannot hear it in the hotel unless you
are in the porter's lodge. It has been said the house is bewitched, and
I think it; for once, when the Bishop breakfasted here, as soon as he
entered the doors a loud report was heard and the place trembled, just
as if some evil spirit were frightened and had departed in a flash of
lightning. If you only knew how I ran when I heard the knocker, you
would pity me."

"I guessed what was up," said our watchman, "but waited, thinking you
would be sure to arrive. Contemplating the stars with you, Juan, means
taking an extra glass or two at your favourite bodega. You are too fond
of leaving your post, and one of these days your post will leave you."

[Illustration: ARCADES: LERIDA]

This we thought highly probable, but the porter merely shrugged his
shoulders, intimating that if he lost one place another would turn
up. He applied one of the great keys to the lock, and the great door
rolled open.

We passed into a dark vaulted passage which rather reminded us of the
gloomy entrance to the Hospederia at Montserrat. Upstairs every one had
gone to bed, and they had not even left us a light. But for the night
porter we might have sat all night upon chairs. When the candles threw
out a faint illumination, H. C. looked round shudderingly as though he
expected to see the Dragon lurking in some corner.

We had found out that this extraordinary creature rejoiced in the
charming name of _Rose_, and mentioned the name aloud.

"Rose," said the night porter, "that is my wife. She is not a beauty,
senor, but she can't scold--she has no voice. When I see other
good-looking wives rating their husbands I say to myself, 'Ah ha, my
fine fellow! after all beauty is only skin-deep. I wou