We reached Lugo about two hours past noon:  during the last two or three leagues, I became so overpowered with weariness, the result of want of sleep and my late illness, that I was continually dozing in my saddle, so that I took but little notice of what was passing.  We put up at a large posada without the wall of the town, built upon a steep bank, and commanding an extensive view of the country towards the east.  Shortly after our arrival, the rain began to descend in torrents, and continued without intermission during the next two days, which was, however, to me but a slight source of regret, as I passed the entire time in bed, and I may almost say in slumber.  On the evening of the third day I arose.

There was much bustle in the house, caused by the arrival of a family from Coruna; they came in a large jaunting car, escorted by four carabineers.  The family was rather numerous, consisting of a father, son, and eleven daughters, the eldest of whom might be about eighteen.  A shabby-looking fellow, dressed in a jerkin and wearing a high-crowned hat, attended as domestic.  They arrived very wet and shivering, and all seemed very disconsolate, especially the father, who was a well-looking middle-aged man.  “Can we be accommodated?” he demanded in a gentle voice of the man of the house; “can we be accommodated in this fonda?”

“Certainly, your worship,” replied the other; “our house is large.  How many apartments does your worship require for your family?”

“One will be sufficient,” replied the stranger.

The host, who was a gouty personage and leaned upon a stick, looked for a moment at the traveller, then at every member of his family, not forgetting the domestic, and, without any farther comment than a slight shrug, led the way to the door of an apartment containing two or three flock beds, and which on my arrival I had objected to as being small, dark, and incommodious; this he flung open, and demanded whether it would serve.

“It is rather small,” replied the gentleman; “I think, however, that it will do.”

“I am glad of it,” replied the host.  “Shall we make any preparations for the supper of your worship and family?”

“No, I thank you,” replied the stranger, “my own domestic will prepare the slight refreshment we are in need of.”

The key was delivered to the domestic, and the whole family ensconced themselves in their apartment:  before, however, this was effected, the escort were dismissed, the principal carabineer being presented with a peseta.  The man stood surveying the gratuity for about half a minute, as it glittered in the palm of his hand; then with an abrupt Vamos! he turned upon his heel, and without a word of salutation to any person, departed with the men under his command.

“Who can these strangers be?” said I to the host, as we sat together in a large corridor open on one side, and which occupied the entire front of the house.