At an early hour on the following day we reached Colunga, a beautiful village on a rising ground, thickly planted with chestnut trees.  It is celebrated, at least in the Asturias, as being the birth-place of Arguelles, the father of the Spanish constitution.

As we dismounted at the door of the posada, where we intended to refresh ourselves, a person who was leaning out of an upper window uttered an exclamation and disappeared.  We were yet at the door, when the same individual came running forth and cast himself on the neck of Antonio.  He was a good-looking young man, apparently about five and twenty, genteelly dressed, with a Montero cap on his head.  Antonio looked at him for a moment, and then with a Ah, Monsieur, est ce bien vous? shook him affectionately by the hand.  The stranger then motioned him to follow him, and they forthwith proceeded to the room above.

Wondering what this could mean, I sat down to my morning repast.  Nearly an hour elapsed, and still Antonio did not make his appearance; through the boards, however, which composed the ceiling of the kitchen where I sat, I could hear the voices of himself and his acquaintance, and thought that I could occasionally distinguish the sound of broken sobs and groans; at last there was a long pause.  I became impatient, and was about to summon Antonio, when he made his appearance, but unaccompanied by the stranger.  “What, in the name of all that is singular,” I demanded, “have you been about?  Who is that man?” “Mon maitre,” said Antonio, “c’est un monsieur de ma connoissance.  With your permission I will now take a mouthful, and as we journey along I will tell you all that I know of him.”

“Monsieur,” said Antonio, as we rode out of Colunga, “you are anxious to know the history of the gentleman whom you saw embrace me at the inn.  Know, mon maitre, that these Carlist and Christino wars have been the cause of much misery and misfortune in this country, but a being so thoroughly unfortunate as that poor young gentleman of the inn, I do not believe is to be found in Spain, and his misfortunes proceed entirely from the spirit of party and faction which for some time past has been so prevalent.

“Mon maitre, as I have often told you, I have lived in many houses and served many masters, and it chanced that about ten years ago I served the father of this gentleman, who was then a mere boy.  It was a very high family, for monsieur the father was a general in the army, and a man of large possessions.  The family consisted of the general, his lady, and two sons; the youngest of whom is the person you have just seen, the other was several years older.  Pardieu!  I felt myself very comfortable in that house, and every individual of the family had all kind of complaisance for me.  It is singular enough, that though I have been turned out of so many families, I was never turned out of that; and though I left it thrice, it was of my own free will.