There was nothing for it but obedience. The peasant had softened the rigors of the vehicle by flinging in a heap of heather and bracken: and as soon as his passenger was stretched full length on the greenery he made haste to rig up an awning on the poles. This consisted of one of the huge waterproofs, plaited from reeds or grass, in which the Portuguese peasantry walk about on rainy days looking like animated Kaffir huts. The son of Saint Benedict winced at so much pampering: but the cura was not to be withstood. As the bullocks began to slouch forward Antonio felt some kind of a package being thrust through the bars behind his head, while a rough voice muttered in his ear: "_Adeus_! And pray to God for an old sinner!" The peasant gently plied the goad, and the bullocks quickened their pace to about two miles an hour. Fortunately the road was deserted, and no one met or overtook the chariot. At the first turning Antonio's impulse to leap out and walk was nearly irresistible; but respect for the cura restrained him. Leaning on one elbow he opened his breviary and recited the remainder of the day's Office as far as the end of Vespers. This done, he could tolerate his position no longer. The jolting of the rigid cart over an ill-made and worse mended road, and the skriking of the unoiled axle, he might have endured: but the snail's pace, and, worst of all, the feeling that he was like a fatted beast in the pen on the way to a fair, chafed him beyond bearing. So at sunset he descended, and, giving the driver one of his tostões, declared that he would complete the journey on foot. For five minutes the peasant obstinately insisted on marching with his passenger, cart and bullocks and all, as far as the town: but this the monk, fearful of being led to an inn where he would have to spend more tostões, would not allow. The peasant gave way at last; and, placing in Antonio's hand the packet which the cura had thrust between the bars of the cart, he wished him God-speed, and turned his clumsy beasts and creaking machine back towards the south. With legs half-paralyzed by the cramping cart and sadly encumbered by his unfamiliar clothes, Antonio's first steps were like those of a drunken man. But he soon got into his stride and reached the town before the shops were closed. The felt sombrero which he bought amidst an increasing crowd of gaping idlers was the cheapest he could find: but it left him less change than he expected out of one of his half-pounds. Outside the shop a brown-eyed, bare-footed boy was waiting to guide the stranger to the inn; but Antonio gave him a vintem and pressed forward on his journey.