I shall pass over in silence, friendly reader, the adventures I met with on the banks of Ebro, which are not worthy to be related, and proceed to make you acquainted with one which fortune prepared for me between Ossera and Saragossa. Night surprised me near a fine abbey, which I took for a castle, and which I approached in the hope of obtaining a lodging; but finding that a wretched village lay under it, I changed my opinion. We stopped before a paltry hovel, at which a sign was suspended, and, knocking loudly at the door, demanded admission. Nobody answered us at first, but at length a country fellow appeared at one of the windows. This was the landlord, who, having surveyed me from top to toe by the light of a lamp which he held in his hand, began to laugh, saying, “Do not waste any further time here, Signor Cavalier, my house is not fit to receive you; go to the abbey, where you will meet with a hearty welcome, and be more suitably entertained.” I answered the peasant, that I would follow his advice, and, as we were ignorant of the road, requested him to conduct us to the convent, at the same time slipping a few reals into his hand, to add more efficacy to my entreaty. The monastery stood on an eminence, so that we were nearly half an hour ascending it by a very rough road, which to me, who was already much fatigued, was very distressing. Nevertheless, as there is nothing so good as to be entirely free from unpleasantry, so neither is there any thing so bad but has something agreeable to recommend it. The inn-keeper informed me that this was a convent for nuns, all of whom were ladies of quality; that it was one of the richest in Spain, and received all strangers that passed through the village with hospitality. I felt, without knowing wherefore, that this report pleased me; either from reviving my natural predilection for the fair sex, or from a presentiment of what would happen to me. When we reached the great gate we rang several times before any body from within made answer. At length a voice asked us, through the wicket, what we wanted. The inn-keeper, who was known to the porter, told him, “that we were looking for lodging; that he could not entertain us himself, and had, consequently, conducted us to the abbey.” The muleteer added, by my orders, “that an asylum was requested, for one night only, for a foreign nobleman, who had lost his way travelling to Saragossa.”