with the poor monkey, who threw about his arms, uttered piercing moans, and exerted all his strength to break his chain. Did he look upon the negro as an animal of his own race, a brother monkey who had got on in the world, and who was the only friend worthy of understanding him? However this may be, it is very certain that I never beheld an instance of deeper grief, than that of this monkey bewailing this negro; and the circumstance is the more remarkable, as he had seen the _picadores_ unhorsed and their lives in danger without manifesting the least uneasiness or sympathy. At the same moment, an enormous owl alighted in the middle of the arena. He had come, no doubt, in his character of a bird of night, to carry off this black soul to the ebony paradise of Africans. Out of the eight bulls in this fight, four only were to be killed. The others, after having received half-a-dozen thrusts with the lance, and three or four pairs of _banderillas_, were conducted back again into the _toril_ by large oxen with bells on their necks. The last one, a _novillo_, was abandoned to the spectators, who tumultuously invaded the arena, and despatched him with their knives, for so great is the passion of the Andalusians for bull-fights, that they are not contented with being mere spectators; they require to take a part in the fight, without which they would retire unsatisfied. The steamer the _Ocean_, was lying in the harbour, ready to start; the bad weather, that superb bad weather which I have already mentioned, had detained her for some days; we went on board her, with a lively feeling of satisfaction, for in consequence of the events in Valencia, and the troubles which ensued, Cadiz was, after a fashion, in a state of siege. The papers were no longer filled with anything, save pieces of poetry or _feuilletons_ translated from the French, and on the corners of all the streets were posted rather uncomfortable little _bandos_, prohibiting all groups of more than three persons, under pain of death. Besides these reasons for wishing to leave as soon as possible, we had been travelling forwards with our backs turned on France for a long time; it was the first time for many months that we had made a step towards our native land, and, however free a man may be from national prejudices, he cannot help feeling a slight longing to behold his country once more, when he is so far away. In Spain, the least disrespectful allusion to France made me furious, and I felt inclined to sing of laurels, victory, glory, and warriors, like a supernumerary of the _Cirque-Olympique_.