pure white marble, fifteen feet in diameter.  The roof of the vestibule is a wonderful piece of workmanship, formed of pointed arches, wreathed and twined through each other, like basket-work.  No people ever wrought poetry into stone so perfectly as the Saracens.  In looking on these precious relics of an elegant and refined race, I cannot help feeling a strong regret that their kingdom ever passed into other hands.

Leaving Cordova, our road followed the Guadalquivir, along the foot of the Sierra Morena, which rose dark and stern, a barrier to the central table-lands of La Mancha.  At Alcolea, we crossed the river on a noble bridge of black marble, out of all keeping with the miserable road.  It rained incessantly, and the scenery through which we passed had a wild and gloomy character.  The only tree to be seen was the olive, which covered the hills far and near, the profusion of its fruit showing the natural richness of the soil.  This part of the road is sometimes infested with robbers, and once, when I saw two individuals waiting for us in a lonely defile, with gun-barrels thrust out from under their black cloaks, I anticipated a recurrence of a former unpleasant experience.  But they proved to be members of the guardia civil, and therefore our protectors.

The ruts and quagmires, made by the rain, retarded our progress, and it was dark when we reached Andujar, fourteen leagues from Cordova.  To Baylen, where I was to quit the diligence, and take another coming down from Madrid to Granada, was four leagues further.  We journeyed on in the dark, in a pouring rain, up and down hill for some hours, when all at once the cries of the mozo ceased, and the diligence came to a dead stop.  There was some talk between our conductors, and then the mayoral opened the door and invited us to get out.  The postillion had fallen asleep, and the mules had taken us into a wrong road.  An attempt was made to turn the diligence, but failed, leaving it standing plump against a high bank of mud.  We stood, meanwhile, shivering in the cold and wet, and the fair Andalusian shed abundance of tears.  Fortunately, Baylen was close at hand, and, after some delay, two men came with lanterns and escorted us to the posada, or inn, where we arrived at midnight.  The diligence from Madrid, which was due six hours before, had not made its appearance, and we passed the rest of the night in a cold room, fasting, for the meal was only to be served when the other passengers came.  At day-break, finally, a single dish of oily meat was vouchsafed to us, and, as it was now certain that some accident had happened, the passengers to Madrid requested the Administrador to send them on in an extra conveyance.  This he refused, and they began to talk about getting up a pronunciamento, when a messenger arrived with the news that the diligence had broken down at midnight, about two leagues off.  Tools were thereupon dispatched, nine hours after the accident happened, and we might hope to be released from our imprisonment in four or five more.