was hurrying at a considerable pace in the direction in which we had hitherto been proceeding. “Stop,” said I, “stop! will you leave me here with the pony? Stop; we have not paid the reckoning. Stop!” He, however, never turned his head for a moment, and in less than a minute was out of sight. The pony, which was tied to a crib at one end of the cabin, began now to neigh terrifically, to plunge, and to erect its tail and mane in a most singular manner. It tore and strained at the halter till I was apprehensive that strangulation would ensue. “Woman,” I exclaimed, “where are you, and what is the meaning of all this?” But the hostess had likewise disappeared, and though I ran about the _choza_, shouting myself hoarse, no answer was returned. The pony still continued to scream and to strain at the halter more violently than ever. “Am I beset with lunatics?” I cried, and flinging down a _peseta_ on the table, unloosed the halter, and attempted to introduce the bit into the mouth of the animal. This, however, I found impossible to effect. Released from the halter, the pony made at once for the door, in spite of all the efforts which I could make to detain it. “If you abandon me,” said I, “I am in a pretty situation; but there is a remedy for everything!” with which words I sprang into the saddle, and in a moment more the creature was bearing me at a rapid gallop in the direction, as I supposed, of Finisterre. My position, however diverting to the reader, was rather critical to myself. I was on the back of a spirited animal, over which I had no control, dashing along a dangerous and unknown path. I could not discover the slightest vestige of my guide, nor did I pass any one from whom I could derive any information. Indeed, the speed of the animal was so great, that even in the event of my meeting or overtaking a passenger, I could scarcely have hoped to exchange a word with him. “Is the pony trained to this work?” said I, mentally. “Is he carrying me to some den of banditti, where my throat will be cut, or does he follow his master by instinct?” Both of these suspicions I, however, soon abandoned. The pony’s speed relaxed; he appeared to have lost the road. He looked about uneasily: at last, coming to a sandy spot, he put his nostrils to the ground, and then suddenly flung himself down, and wallowed in true pony fashion. I was not hurt, and instantly made use of this opportunity to slip the bit into his mouth, which previously had been dangling beneath his neck; I then remounted in quest of the road.