"I am always well armed, Señor Caballero, for my little wife, our niece, and I, are the only inhabitants here. They are apt to be timid at times; thus I always keep my escopeta loaded, and six junkets of lead in that old brass-mouthed trabujo over the mantel-piece; so with my knife and strong bolts, bars and shutters, we could stand a very good siege, even if Don Fabrique de Urquija and all his band were assailing us. One glass more of the Xeres before you retire, señor--no?--well, how such a sober Caballero belongs to the regiment of Lagos surpasses my--a thousand pardons, señor; I meant no offence; but a poor man must have his little joke as well as a rich one, and I am sure a noble Caballero will excuse it. So you won't take one glass more of the Xeres before retiring, well, well--this way, señor, up this stair--take care of the step, and now, señor, Bueno noches, and may all good attend you." I was alone. I was in my sleeping apartment, a miserable loft, to which I had ascended by means of a trap-door and trap-stair. The bed was poor and shabby; a thousand discolorations, the combined result of damp and dirt covered the ill-plastered walls and bare wooden floor. A small and ill-glazed window opened to the dark mountains, behind which the moon, a pale crescent, was just sinking, and to the deep black gorge which yawned between their peaks like some vast Titan's grave. There was not a sound upon those solemn hills, or in that savage pass through which the roadway wound; there was no sound in the posada below me, and as I set down the candle and listened, I heard only its sputtering and the beating of my own heart. I knelt down, and drawing forth my beads and crucifix, said my prayers like a good Catholic, and solemnly invoked the protection of St. Anthony. After this, apprehension almost vanished. If any attempt was made upon me in the night, I had but one man to oppose--the hostalero, and surely I was a match for him. But then there was his wife, a powerful Asturian termagant, who had doubtless the cunning of a fox with the strength of a bull. I looked about for something wherewith to secure the trapdoor, but found nothing; my bedstead was the only piece of furniture, and it was too weighty for removal. I might have lain down and slept above the trap; but the idea did not then occur to me; and at times, as my candle burned low, such is the weakness of the human heart, that I began to mistrust even the protection of my Lord St. Anthony, and think I was unwise in not quitting this unblessed posada, instead of retiring to a bed-chamber, as the hostalero might be joined by others more ruffianly than himself, and thus overpower me. "No, no," thought I; "no others will come; the rascal trusts in his Xeres, and I shall soon see the sequel."