Hastily he averted his head from the mother and child, and without having uttered a word, rushed from the apartment. Darting along the private passages, and then taking the first path that presented itself, he was soon several miles from the groves of Xabregas. The mind of Sebastian was now in that tumultuous state which is the very acme of misery; a state in which every object of suffering is distinctly perceived, while memory appears sharpened by the very acuteness of regret: like the waves of a stormy sea, thought urged on thought, without order or intermission; those hours once spent with Gonsalva and Antonio, and those expectations, which for fourteen long months had cheered the gloom of slavery, now thronged on him like spectres. He traversed hills, valleys, and woods, with the rapidity of madness, vainly seeking to fly from himself. Night was far spent, when he heard himself addressed by a stranger; he stopt, and beheld an honest-looking man standing at the door of a solitary little inn, where some travellers were just alighting from their horses. “What makes you journey through such a night as this?” said the man, “If you have a mind for a shelter, stay here and welcome; by your garb you seem a poor fellow and not able to pay for a supper--yet you shall have something to eat nevertheless.” Sebastian paused at the voice of kindness, and found that he was indeed roving about under a dreadful storm: the rain failing in sheets had wetted him through, and he was without a hat, having left it in the chamber of Donna Gonsalva.--Bowing silently, he followed the benevolent innkeeper. On the threshold of his door the good man paused, and holding a lamp up to Sebastian’s face, uttered an exclamation of surprise at his haggard looks, adding, “However, there’s something in that countenance that tells me I am not going to harbour a robber, so come in poor fellow.” Sebastian followed him into a large kitchen where the horsemen who preceded him were already seating themselves near a fire: by their dress and mien two of them appeared noble, and the remaining four, their attendants. They took no notice of the King, but called for wine and omelets, and began discoursing about the weather: meanwhile the humane landlord offered his humbler looking guest some cheese and onions; Sebastian in a low voice declined the coarse supper; he wrapt himself up in his capote and stood remote from the fire, thinking upon the past scene with Donna Gonsalva.