They were informed on arriving there, by means of a few
English words, aided by expressive gestures, that the
British Consul lived at Concepcion, an hour's ride distant.
Glenarvan found no difficulty in procuring two fleet horses,
and he and Paganel were soon within the walls of the great city,
due to the enterprising genius of Valdivia, the valiant comrade
of the Pizarros.

How it was shorn of its ancient splendor! Often pillaged by the natives,
burned in 1819, it lay in desolation and ruins, its walls still
blackened by the flames, scarcely numbering 8,000 inhabitants,
and already eclipsed by Talcahuano. The grass was growing in
the streets, beneath the lazy feet of the citizens, and all trade
and business, indeed any description of activity, was impossible.
The notes of the mandolin resounded from every balcony,
and languishing songs floated on the breeze. Concepcion, the ancient
city of brave men, had become a village of women and children.
Lord Glenarvan felt no great desire to inquire into the causes
of this decay, though Paganel tried to draw him into a discussion
on the subject. He would not delay an instant, but went
straight on to the house of Mr. Bentic, her Majesty's Consul,
who received them very courteously, and, on learning their errand,
undertook to make inquiries all along the coast.

But to the question whether a three-mast vessel, called the BRITANNIA,
had gone ashore either on the Chilian or Araucanian coast, he gave
a decided negative. No report of such an event had been made to him,
or any of the other consuls. Glenarvan, however, would not allow himself
to be disheartened; he went back to Talcahuano, and spared neither pains