Myself.—­What was the word which you continually heard proceeding from the lips of the big servant, and which you think you can remember?

Host.—­Senor, it is now three years since I heard it, and at times I can remember it and at others not; sometimes I have started up in my sleep repeating it.  Stay, Senor, I have it now at the point of my tongue:  it was Patusca.

Myself.—­Batuschca, you mean; the men were Russians.

CHAPTER XXXIII

Oviedo—­The Ten Gentlemen—­The Swiss again—­Modest Request—­The Robbers—­Episcopal Benevolence—­The Cathedral—­Portrait of Feijoo.

I must now take a considerable stride in my journey, no less than from Muros to Oviedo, contenting myself with observing, that we proceeded from Muros to Velez, and from thence to Giyon, where our guide Martin bade us farewell, and returned with his mare to Rivadeo.  The honest fellow did not part without many expressions of regret, indeed he even expressed a desire that I should take him and his mare into my service; “for,” said he, “I have a great desire to run through all Spain, and even the world; and I am sure I shall never have a better opportunity than by attaching myself to your worship’s skirts.”  On my reminding him, however, of his wife and family, for he had both, he said, “True, true, I had forgotten them:  happy the guide whose only wife and family are a mare and foal.”

Oviedo is about three leagues from Giyon.  Antonio rode the horse, whilst I proceeded thither in a kind of diligence which runs daily between the two towns.  The road is good, but mountainous.  I arrived safely at the capital of the Asturias, although at a rather unpropitious season, for the din of war was at the gate, and there was the cry of the captains and the shouting.  Castile, at the time of which I am writing, was in the hands of the Carlists, who had captured and plundered Valladolid in much the same manner as they had Segovia some time before.  They were every day expected to march on Oviedo, in which case they might perhaps have experienced some resistance, a considerable body of troops being stationed there, who had erected some redoubts, and strongly fortified several of the convents, especially that of Santa Clara de la Vega.  All minds were in a state of feverish anxiety and suspense, more especially as no intelligence arrived from Madrid, which by the last accounts was said to be occupied by the bands of Cabrera and Palillos.

So it came to pass that one night I found myself in the ancient town of Oviedo, in a very large, scantily-furnished, and remote room in an ancient posada, formerly a palace of the counts of Santa Cruz.  It was past ten, and the rain was descending in torrents.  I was writing, but suddenly ceased on hearing numerous footsteps ascending the creaking stairs which led to my apartment.  The door was flung open, and in walked nine men of