From this sweltering climate we hasten to the sea-shore, where at rare intervals a refreshing breeze may be felt. Alicante, the second town in the kingdom of Valencia, is modern, commercial, and thriving. The land-locked harbour is bordered by broad white quays, glistering in the sun's rays, with heaps of tarry cordage, and canvas distilling characteristically marine odours. Trains of mules pass by dragging enormous loads of oranges. In the harbour women are busy loading an English craft which flies the Blue Peter; they swarm up and down the side like ants, or rather like the colliers so familiar to passengers through the Suez Canal. The background to this scene of light and animation is formed by the enormous rock, comparable to Gibraltar, which is crowned by the ancient castle of Santa Barbara--so called after the saint on whose festival, in the year 1248, it was taken by the Castilians. Four years later it was stormed by the Aragonese, King Alfonso the Battler being the third to enter the fortress. The Castilian governor, with his sword in one hand and his keys in the other, fell pierced with wounds at the conqueror's feet. The possession of the town, as of Orihuela, was afterwards confirmed to Aragon by treaty. Alicante is resorted to for sea-bathing during the summer. The water, I am told, is then lukewarm--hot enough, according to one account, to shave with! The thought of the place in August makes the Northerner reach for a cooling drink. But I am assured that the heat is tempered by refreshing breezes from the sea, and that in the long shadow of the castle rock delicious evenings may be enjoyed. So we journey northward. The country reveals the results of the most systematic and intensive culture. We are told that the Valencians are lazy, but if so it must be because the most cleverly devised schemes of irrigation and cultivation have set them free of labour. The province of Alicante--the southernmost of the three into which the ancient kingdom is divided--contains several important towns. There is the beautifully-named Villajoyosa, Benidorm--so Provençal in sound--and Alcoy, a busy, industrial centre, situated in a blooming orchard country. Here is celebrated every April the festival of St. George, when a sort of sham fight takes place between peasants arrayed respectively as Moors and Christians. From Alcoy a short line runs to Gandía on the coast, the cradle of the famous house of Borgia. [Illustration: A FISHER GIRL (COAST OF MALAGA)]