My curiosity to know where I was grew now my strongest feeling, and I raised myself with one arm to look around me.

In the room all was still and silent, but nothing seemed to intimate what I sought for.

As I looked, however, the wind blew back the curtain which half-concealed the sash-door, and disclosed to me the figure of a man seated at a table; his back was towards me, but his broad sombrero hat and brown mantle bespoke his nation; the light blue curl of smoke which wreathed gently upwards, and the ample display of long-necked, straw-wrapped flasks, also attested that he was enjoying himself with true Peninsular gusto, having probably partaken of a long siesta.
It was a perfect picture in its way of the indolent luxury of the South,--the rich and perfumed flowers, half-closing to the night air, but sighing forth a perfumed _buonas noches_ as they betook themselves to rest; the slender shadows of the tall shrubs, stretching motionless across the walks; the very attitude of the figure himself was in keeping as supported by easy chairs he lounged at full length, raising his head ever and anon as if to watch the wreath of eddying smoke as it rose upwards from his cigar and melted away in the distance.
[Illustration: MR.

FREE TURNED SPANIARD.] "Yes", thought I, as I looked for some time, "such is the very type of his nation.

Surrounded by every luxury of climate, blessed with all that earth can offer of its best and fairest, and yet only using such gifts as mere sensual gratifications." Starting with this theme, I wove a whole story for the unknown personage whom, in my wandering fancy, I began by creating a grandee of Portugal, invested with rank honors, and riches; but who, effeminated by the habits and usages of his country, had become the mere idle voluptuary, living a life of easy and inglorious indolence.