merry, and anything but malevolent; for when I, in order to show him that
I cared little about him, began to hum 'Eu que sou contrabandista,'
{147a} he laughed heartily, and said, clapping me on the shoulder, that
he would not drown us if he could help it. The other poor fellow seemed
by no means averse to go to the bottom: he sat at the fore part of the
boat, looking the image of famine, and only smiled when the waters broke
over the weather side and soaked his scanty habiliments. In a little
time I had made up my mind that our last hour was come; the wind was
getting higher, the short dangerous waves were more foamy, the boat was
frequently on its beam, and the water came over the lee side in torrents.
But still the wild lad at the helm held on, laughing and chattering, and
occasionally yelling out part of the Miguelite air, 'Quando el Rey
chegou,' {147b} the singing of which in Lisbon is imprisonment.

The stream was against us, but the wind was in our favour, and we sprang
along at a wonderful rate, and I saw that our only chance of escape was
in speedily passing the farther bank of the Tagus, where the bight or bay
at the extremity of which stands Aldea Gallega commences, for we should
not then have to battle with the waves of the stream, which the adverse
wind lashed into fury. It was the will of the Almighty to permit us
speedily to gain this shelter, but not before the boat was nearly filled
with water, and we were all wet to the skin. At about seven o'clock in
the evening we reached Aldea Gallega, shivering with cold and in a most
deplorable plight.

* * * * *

I know of few things in this life more delicious than a ride in the
spring or summer season in the neighbourhood of Seville. My favourite
one was in the direction of Xeres, over the wide Dehesa, as it is called,