as many as six at one time, sprang up upon chairs and tables and
ventilated their political views. The paramount, nay, the only,
interest was not in the words of Christ; but the probable doings of
the Carlists.

On the night of his arrival Borrow was taken ill with what, at the
time, he thought to be cholera, and for some time in the little
"cock-loft or garret" that had been allotted to him at the over-
crowded French hotel, he was "in most acute pain, and terribly sick,"
drinking oil mixed with brandy. For two days he was so exhausted as
to be able to do nothing.

On the morning of the 24th he embarked in a small Spanish steamer
bound for Seville, which was reached that same night. The sun had
dissipated the melancholy and stupor left by his illness, and by the
time he arrived at Seville he was repeating Latin verses and
fragments of old Spanish ballads to a brilliant moon. The condition
of affairs at Seville was as bad if not worse than at Cadiz. There
was scarcely any communication with the capital, the diligences no
longer ran, and even the fearless arrieros (muleteers) declined to
set out. Famine, plunder and murder were let loose over the land.
Bands of banditti robbed, tortured and slew in the name of Don
Carlos. They stripped the peasantry of all they possessed, and the
poor wretches in turn became brigands and preyed upon those weaker
than themselves. Through all this Borrow had to penetrate in order
to reach Madrid. Had the road been familiar to him he would have
performed the journey alone, dressed either as a beggar or as a
gypsy. It is obvious that he appreciated the hazardous nature of the
journey he was undertaking, for he asked Mr Brandram, in the event of
his death, to keep the news from old Mrs Borrow as long as possible