which he earnestly desired to rid himself without more ado.

It was addressed to Colonel Monreal at No. 84 Plaza de Cadiz.

'Let his Excellency stay here and drink a glass of wine at this
venta,' said Concepcion. 'Alone, I shall be able to get information
without attracting attention. And then, in the name of the saints,
let us shake the dust of Xeres off our feet. The first thing we see
is steel, and I do not like it. I have a wife in Algeciras to whom
I am much attached, and I am afraid--yes, afraid. A gentleman need
never hesitate to say so.'

He shook his head forebodingly as he loosened his girths and called
for water for the horses.

'I could eat a cocida,' he went on, sniffing the odours of a
neighbouring kitchen, 'with plenty of onions and the mutton as
becomes the springtime--young and tender. Dios! this quick
travelling and an empty stomach, it kills one.'

'When I have delivered my letter,' replied Conyngham, 'we shall eat
with a lighter heart.'

Concepcion went away in a pessimistic humour. He was one of those
men who are brave enough on good wine and victuals, but lack the
stamina to fight when hungry. He returned presently with the
required information. The Plaza de Cadiz was, it appeared, quite
close. Indeed, the town of Xeres is not large, though the
intricacies of its narrow streets may well puzzle a new-comer. No.
84 was the house of the barber, and on his first floor lived Colonel