Alcalde.—­How surprising!  I see, indeed, that you know nothing of his writings, though an Englishman.  Now, here am I, a simple alcalde of Galicia, yet I possess all the writings of Baintham on that shelf, and I study them day and night.

Myself.—­You doubtless, Sir, possess the English Language.

Alcalde.—­I do.  I mean that part of it which is contained in the writings of Baintham.  I am most truly glad to see a countryman of his in these Gothic wildernesses.  I understand and appreciate your motives for visiting them:  excuse the incivility and rudeness which you have experienced.  But we will endeavour to make you reparation.  You are this moment free:  but it is late; I must find you a lodging for the night.  I know one close by which will just suit you.  Let us repair thither this moment.  Stay, I think I see a book in your hand.

Myself.—­The New Testament.

Alcalde.—­What book is that?

Myself.—­A portion of the sacred writings, the Bible.

Alcalde.—­Why do you carry such a book with you?

Myself.—­One of my principal motives in visiting Finisterra was to carry this book to that wild place.

Alcalde.—­Ha, ha! how very singular.  Yes, I remember.  I have heard that the English highly prize this eccentric book.  How very singular that the countrymen of the grand Baintham should set any value upon that old monkish book.

It was now late at night, and my new friend attended me to the lodging which he had destined for me, and which was at the house of a respectable old female, where I found a clean and comfortable room.  On the way I slipped a gratuity into the hand of Antonio, and on my arrival, formally, and in the presence of the alcalde, presented him with the Testament, which I requested he would carry back to Finisterra, and keep in remembrance of the Englishman in whose behalf he had so effectually interposed.

Antonio.—­I will do so, your worship; and when the winds blow from the north-west, preventing our launches from putting to sea, I will read your present.  Farewell, my captain, and when you next come to Finisterra I hope it will be in a valiant English bark, with plenty of contrabando on board, and not across the country on a pony, in company with nuveiros and men of Padron.

Presently arrived the handmaid of the alcalde with a basket, which she took into the kitchen, where she prepared an excellent supper for her master’s friend.  On its being served up the alcalde bade me farewell, having first demanded whether he could in any way forward my plans.

“I return to Saint James to-morrow,” I replied, “and I sincerely hope that some occasion will occur which will enable me to acquaint the world with the hospitality which I have experienced from so accomplished a scholar as the Alcalde of Corcuvion.”

CHAPTER XXXI

Coruna—­Crossing the Bay—­Ferrol—­The Dockyard—­Where are we now?—­
Greek Ambassador—­Lantern-light—­The Ravine—­Viveiro—­Evening—­
Marsh and Quagmire—­Fair Words and Fair Money—­The Leathern Girth—­
Eyes of Lynx—­The Knavish Guide.