It is not my intention to describe minutely the various incidents of this journey.  Leaving at our right the mountains of Jaen, we passed through Andujar and Bailen, and on the third day reached Carolina, a small but beautiful town on the skirts of the Sierra Morena, inhabited by the descendants of German colonists.  Two leagues from this place, we entered the defile of Despena Perros, which, even in quiet times, has an evil name, on account of the robberies which are continually being perpetrated within its recesses, but at the period of which I am speaking, it was said to be swarming with banditti.  We of course expected to be robbed, perhaps stripped and otherwise ill-treated; but Providence here manifested itself.  It appeared that, the day before our arrival, the banditti of the pass had committed a dreadful robbery and murder, by which they gained forty thousand rials.  This booty probably contented them for a time; certain it is that we were not interrupted:  we did not even see a single individual in the pass, though we occasionally heard whistles and loud cries.  We entered La Mancha, where I expected to fall into the hands of Palillos and Orejita.  Providence again showed itself.  It had been delicious weather, suddenly the Lord breathed forth a frozen blast, the severity of which was almost intolerable; no human beings but ourselves ventured forth.  We traversed snow-covered plains, and passed through villages and towns to all appearance deserted.  The robbers kept close in their caves and hovels, but the cold nearly killed us.  We reached Aranjuez late on Christmas Day, and I got into the house of an Englishman, where I swallowed nearly a pint of brandy; it affected me no more than warm water.

On the following day we arrived at Madrid, where we had the good fortune to find everything tranquil and quiet.  The Contrabandista continued with me for two days, at the end of which time he returned to Cordova upon the uncouth animal on which I had ridden throughout the journey.  I had myself purchased the jaca, whose capabilities I had seen on the route, and which I imagined might prove useful in future journeys.  The Contrabandista was so satisfied with the price which I gave him for his beast, and the general treatment which he had experienced at my hands during the time of his attendance upon me, that he would fain have persuaded me to retain him as a servant, assuring me that, in the event of my compliance, he would forget his wife and children and follow me through the world.  I declined, however, to accede to his request, though I was in need of a domestic; I therefore sent him back to Cordova, where, as I subsequently learned, he died suddenly, about a week after his return.

The manner of his death was singular:  one day he took out his purse, and, after counting his money, said to his wife, “I have made ninety-five dollars by this journey with the Englishman and by the sale of the jaca; this I could easily double by one successful venture in the smuggling lay.  To-morrow I will depart for Lisbon to buy diamonds.  I wonder if the beast requires to be shod?” He then started up and made for the door, with the intention of going to the stable; ere, however, his foot had crossed the threshold, he fell dead on the floor.  Such is the course of the world.  Well said the wise king:  Let no one boast of the morrow.