el Evangelio_!”

In a few days I followed with Antonio.  We ascended the mountains by the
pass called Peña Cerrada, which lies about three leagues to the eastward
of that of Guadarrama.  It is very unfrequented, the high road between
the two Castiles passing through Guadarrama.  It has, moreover, an evil
name, being, according to common report, infested with banditti.  The sun
was just setting when we reached the top of the hills, and entered a
thick and gloomy pine forest, which entirely covers the mountains on the
side of Old Castile.  The descent soon became so rapid and precipitous,
that we were fain to dismount from our horses and to drive them before
us.  Into the woods we plunged deeper and deeper still; night-birds soon
began to hoot and cry, and millions of crickets commenced their shrill
chirping above, below, and around us.  Occasionally, amidst the trees at
a distance, we could see blazes, as if from immense fires.  “They are
those of the charcoal-burners, _mon maître_,” said Antonio; “we will not
go near them, however, for they are savage people, and half bandits.
Many is the traveller whom they have robbed and murdered in these horrid
wildernesses.”

It was blackest night when we arrived at the foot of the mountains; we
were still, however, amidst woods and pine forests, which extended for
leagues in every direction.  “We shall scarcely reach Segovia to-night,
_mon maître_,” said Antonio.  And so indeed it proved, for we became
bewildered, and at last arrived where two roads branched off in different
directions: we took not the left-hand road, which would have conducted us
to Segovia, but turned to the right, in the direction of La Granja, where
we arrived at midnight.

We found the desolation of La Granja {208} far greater than that of
Aranjuez; both had suffered from the absence of royalty, but the former
to a degree which was truly appalling.  Nine-tenths of the inhabitants
had left this place, which, until the late military revolution, had been
the favourite residence of Christi