arragona. We did not again see Manresa, but even a comparative approach
to its neighbourhood brought all the splendid and imposing outlines, the
blood-red river, vividly before us. Once more we saw Mons Serratus with
its jagged, fantastic peaks: lived through our haunted night in the
Hospederia; again Salvador the monk and his wonderful music took
possession of our spirit and Serratus itself appeared enveloped in
harmony and romance. We were glad not to pass through the station, where
possibly Sebastien would have been on the watch for passengers; and we
should have left a heart-broken expression behind us at the very thought
of our not staying a couple of days to see Manresa under sunshine.

The day was wearing on to evening as we approached Tarragona with its
matchless coast scene. The blue waters of the Mediterranean stretched
far and wide, and the harbour reposed upon them like a sleeping
crescent. As the sun dipped in the west, the waters flashed out its
declining rays, reflected the gorgeous colouring of the sky. The train
landed us in the lower town. We had to reach the upper town, and the
rickety old omnibus rolled and struggled up the steep streets, finally
depositing us at the Fonda de Paris.

We found the inn quite civilised. The landlord was half Italian and
spoke several languages. On the first night of our arrival the cook must
have been in a very amiable mood, for he sent up an excellent dinner.
But to H. C.'s sorrow and surprise the after dinners were a lamentable
falling-off. The cook had been crossed in love, received notice to quit,
or his art failed him: everything was below par. On the evening of our
arrival, the evil had not fallen.

The hotel, like many of the Spanish inns was large and rambling. Our
landlord conducted us to excellent rooms facing the road, and from the
balcony the scene was enchanting. Before us was an old Roman tower. To
our right, far down, 700 feet below our present level, we caught sight
of the sleeping Mediterranean.

It was not quite so pleasant to find ourselves surrounded by the
military element; barracks to right and left of us; sentries in slippers
patrolling up and down; raw recruits, looking as little like soldiers as
anything to be conceived; constant snatches of bugle-calling, which
seemed to end at midnight and begin again at four in the morning. So
far, all was unrest. But we soon found that the charms of Tarragona
soared far above all small and secondary consi