Early in September, 1813, accompanied by Lieutenant Rhodes, of the 39th regiment, I set out from Vittoria, on the route to Bilboa, for the purpose of embarking for England. Proceeding towards the northern Provinces, we arrived at Tolosa on the following day, where we remained one night. The landlord of the posada at which we brought up, was a very humorous character, and also an extremely odd fish; but he was one who had an eye to business, taking good care of the main chance, for, hearing of the success of the British arms, and that some of the troops were likely to pass that way, he fitted up his hotel in good style, and went to such expense, that it would have been a pity had he been disappointed. With regard to the exterior of his premises, he was determined to make a display of his loyalty, and therefore put up the sign of Fernando Settimo, whose ugly countenance was no great attraction to the traveller. By his conversation, in a sort of mongrel Anglo-Spanish dialect, one would suppose that he was a veritable patriot, and that he reverenced the English. The inscription on his signboard, however, seemed to put a different face on the matter; for by his own shewing it would appear that upon the thick skull of this worthy the organ of destructiveness was strongly marked, or, in other words, that he was neither more nor less than a cannibal. The passenger, therefore, might well start with horror, on perusing the aforesaid notice, which by the arrangement of the painter, ran thus: "FRANCISCO PEREZ, ESTALAGEM FOR EATING GENTLEMEN LODGED WITHIN." Poor Francisco was evidently not in the school-master's line of march; for in his attempt at an English sign, by not minding his own _stops_, he publicly forewarned all who might be journeying that way, that _their stops_ in this world should not be of long duration. Giving nevertheless this honest Spaniard full credit for all his promises of civility, and having no particular dread of being hashed up into minced meat, or an olla-podrida, we lodged ourselves in his hostelry, happy, after a long and fatiguing march, to get a place of rest, even under such inauspicious circumstances. We arrived at Bilboa in a few days, having had rather a pleasant though protracted journey. Rhodes being a good travelling companion, we got on smoothly enough, with a certain independence of character very much to be envied; for as we were entirely out of the range of adjutants, orderly books, and other such unfashionable concerns, we felt like gentlemen at large, with light hearts, and, not being overburdened with cash, with still lighter pockets. As to our worldly goods and chattels, we might apply to ourselves Jack's favourite ditty. "A handkerchief held all the treasure I had, Which over my shoulder I threw," &c.