and turning my face towards Lucca, I pursued my way by the uncertain and fitful light of my consuming mansion. In other words, I ran away by the light of it.

CHAP. VI.

ON reaching Lucca, I found that my evil genius had been busy to accumulate for me new misfortunes. The intelligence of the Pisan riot had reached Lucca before me. The instant I was acquainted with that, I resolved to take shipping for Spain, which I did, and debarked at Barcelona, on the 14th, of April, 1546.

At Barcelona, I merely provided myself with clothes, bought a few of their best Barcelona handkerchiefs, cracked some of their best Barcelona nuts, and then proceeded to Madrid; where, without meeting with any thing not beneath the importance of history, I arrived safe and sound, and as merry as a grig.

I determined now, as far as human precaution could secure its ends, to encounter no more misfortunes, and certainly a wiser determination was never made. But, alas, what are all mortal resolutions!-Vain-Vain!-Here the

most tremendous event in my life occurred. I shall relate it circumstantially, but not so tediously and stupidly as I could.

During the festival of Christmas it happened that I felt an inclination to be a spectator of a celebrated bull-fight that was exhibited before the emperor Charles V. and his court. At the commencement of the spectacle I was attentive only to the exhibition. It was not long, however, before my eye was transiently caught by an individual, who sat in a gallery, at no great distance, whose attention was never removed from me. His countenance was truly singular. His little eyes were of a fiery red, his eyebrows spare, his dingy whiskers thin and shaggy, and his nose flat; his face altogether resembling, as nearly as I can make the comparison, that of a large tom cat in a violent passion. Such an appearance may seem more calculated to excite laughter than any other sensation, but it was quite otherwise with me. I could perceive a contemplative grasp of thought in his eyes that made me cower and quail whenever I met his eye-beams.

Finding that I could not rid myself of his curious and watchful observation, I withdrew to another gallery on the opposite side of the area. I had not been there long, when, looking accidently round, I saw at my elbow this very man, grinning at me in the most grotesque and ridiculous manner. I then accosted him with the inquiry, "Do you know me, Sir?" to which he immediately returned in Spanish,

"No, Senor!" It is very natural to suppose that we had some further parley, which, in fact, we had, but as I do not know any more Spanish, I shall omit it. Seeing that he still viewed me with the same kind of look, which frightened me most horribly, although I was the Count Reginald D'Orveau, and had been a great warrior, I rose, and saying, "Curse your grinning!" I left the theatre, and saw no more of him at that time.

A few days after, however, I suddenly lighted upon him in the street. He was talking to three or four of his countrymen, and in the progress of his discourse frequently pointed and grinned at me. I could now perceive something particularly hostile and ferocious in his countenance. I passed on; he immediately broke from his company and tripped after me. This I determined not to endure.-So what did I do, but, laying my hand on my sword, with a peremptory look, I waved him to desist. He then shook his head furiously, and assuming a grin of diabolical malignity, turned down another street. I thought this a strange sort of animosity, and for which I could assign no probable cause but that of insanity.

It was

I saw my tormenter but once more. shortly afterwards, when on the point of entering the house, some apartments of which I occupied. I was particularly mortified at this circumstance, for it then struck me that I had seen him at Pisa, and that he was acquainted with the character I had there acquired.

Several weeks, however, had passed away, and I had nearly forgotton all the circumstances of this not only seemingly, but really foolish story, when one gloomy evening in the latter end of March, my valet announced to me three gentlemen who were come to visit me. It was strange: I had no visitors. My time since my arrival at Madrid had been principally passed in cultivating the most confused and confusing branches of philosophy. I indulged in no relaxation but that of the street and of public places; precisely indeed as I do in London at this period, where also, as at Madrid, I keep little company, and for this reason-I think myself of too much consequence to condescend to be pleasant and agreeable, therefore very few, on the terms of paying me god-like respect, will associate with me. My conversation, whenever I choose to condescend so much, is on Physics, which is my favourite science.

"Do you know who they are?" said I to my valet. He had not however time to reply before they burst into the room. They were alguazils of the inquisition. They told me their errand was to conduct me to the holy office. I submitted, and accompanied them.

Upon entering the prison of the Inquisition, I was conducted to a cell, and there suffered to remain for four days, when I was brought up for examination before the superior.

A variety of questions were put to me, the design of which, I could perceive, were artfully framed to sift me, and commit myself. I was

clearly satified of one thing, namely, that my imprisonment was wholly owing to the affair at Pisa. This afforded considerable relief to me, and I felt confident of being able to defeat the machinations of my enemies.

The grand inquisitor next enquired particularly about my late philosophical companions, of whom I gave clear and satisfactory answers. He then, amongst other very stupid questions, asked me, "whether I had never caused the mortality of cattle? whether I had never been seen riding through the air? whether I had never been wounded in my absence?"—"What an old ass!" said I, mentally, as I gave to each of these shrewd questions, a bold and positive. denial. It was with difficulty I could retain my countenance, at the solemn gravity with which they proceeded in my examination. Believing my confinement would be short, I then felt as though I might be disposed to humour them in their inquiries respecting me, yet cautiously refraining from giving the slightest clue by which they might entrap me.

I thought they now seemed at a dead stand. After a pause of considerable length, I was reconducted back to my cell; there, I supposed to await a future and more rigid examination.

At the end of three months, they ordered me up before them again; when nearly the same interrogatories as at first, were put to me. My denial was, of course, the same as before. My mind was now completely fortified by the conviction, that nothing new had been contrived