On, on would we wander, through grim batteries, gloomy magazines, and far-stretching galleries, that seemed to be without end, obtaining at times through the vaulted embrasures a glimpse of the town, then basking in the glare of the noonday sun, or of the sea, shining under a brilliance in which the vessels on its bosom became lost, while we heard only the sound of our own voices, the twang of a bugle, or the sharp rat-tat of a drum in the barracks, the faint boom of a breaker on the cliffs, or the fainter sound of voices in the town, far, far down below, where all the races of the world were mingling; for there, in its streets, might be seen the smart Greek in his scarlet fez and ample kilt; the hideous Afric Jew in his black and white striped cowl; the slow and solemn Turk; the bare-kneed Scottish soldier; the lively Italian sailor, and the puffing, perspiring, and grumbling John Bull. I saw Paulina daily, and garrison life became one long and enchanting dream! In the batteries of the rock we promenaded often when the heat became too great in the sunny Alameda, and with such a companion, while wandering through the subterranean and twilight shades of Saint George's Hall, or the Windsor Gallery, how was it possible to escape from loving her.--A coquettish Andalusian, who, whenever I ventured to become a little more tender than usual, would tap me over the fingers with her fan, or give me one brilliant, flashing and fascinating glance, as she closed her screen of black lace, and threatened to leave me, while she sang, with the most charming grace in the world, "Pues por besarte Minguillo," the English of which is somewhat to the following purpose:-- "Give me swiftly back, thou dear one, Give the kiss I gave to you; Give me back the kiss, for mother Is impatient--prithee do! Give me that, and take another, For that one, thou shalt have two." And where, the while, the reader may naturally enquire, was the cautious, suspicious, and lynx-eyed Spanish mother therein referred to? Now old Donna Dominga had conceived a vehement friendship for me since the first evening on which I had the pleasure of meeting her at the residence of the Governor and Commander-in-Chief; and where I supplied her with ices when she was warm, adjusted her mantilla when she was cool, held her fan, snuff-box, and poodle, and brought her a cigarillo and orange-water dashed with the smallest taste of brandy; and, discovering her sympathies and antipathies, soon learned to anathematise Cabrera and the Conde de Montmolin, to express a vague belief in miracles in general, and the verity of the Holy Face of Jaen in particular. I "turned" the old lady's flank, and established myself safely under the wing of her prejudices.