When they were lost to sight, I thought about leaving my eerie vantage point. I jumped down and in jumping down did myself a small injury.

Limping badly, I reached the banks of the Guadalquivir and found there the meal abandoned by the two travellers. Nothing could have been more welcome to me for I felt exhausted. There was chocolate still cooking, with esponajas2 steeped in Alicante wine, bread and eggs. The first thing I did was to recover my strength. Then I thought about what had happened to me the previous night. My recollections were confused but I remembered with great clarity that I had given my word of honour to keep what had happened a secret, and I was firmly determined to do so. Once I had resolved this it only remained to decide what I should do at that instant; that is to say, which way I ought to go. And it seemed to me that I was more than ever honour bound to go by way of the Sierra Morena.

It may come as a surprise that I was so much preoccupied with my reputation and so little with the events of the previous evening. But my manner of thinking was a consequence of the education which I had received, as will become clear in the course of my story. For the moment I shall return to that of my journey.

I was very eager to find out what those devils of the previous evening had done with my horse, which I had left at the Venta Quemada. As the inn was on my way, I decided to pass by. I had to walk the full length of the valley of Los Hermanos and that of the venta itself, which duly tired me out and made me dearly hope to find my horse again, as indeed happened. It was in the same stable where I had left it and seemed frisky, in good shape and recently groomed. I had no idea who could have looked after the animal, but I had seen so many extraordinary things that this did not preoccupy me for long. I should have set out immediately on my journey if I had not been curious to search the inn one more time. I found the room in which I had slept, but however much I looked I could not find the one in which I had seen the two beautiful African girls. I grew tired of the search after a while, mounted my horse and continued on my journey.

When I had awoken beneath the gallows of Los Hermanos, the sun had already run half its course. I had then taken over two hours to reach the venta, so that after I had ridden for about two leagues, I had to turn my mind to finding shelter for the night. None was in sight, so I rode on. At last I saw a Gothic chapel in the distance, together with a cabin which looked like the dwelling of a hermit. Both were far from the road, but I turned unhesitatingly from my path as I was beginning to feel hungry and wanted to obtain food. I knocked at the door of the hermitage and a monk with a most venerable face emerged. He embraced me in a warm paternal way and said:

‘Come in, my son. Do not linger! Do not spend the night outside! Beware of the tempter! The Lord has withdrawn his protection from us.’

I thanked the hermit for the kindness he had shown me and said that I was sorely pressed by hunger.

‘Think rather of your soul, my son. Go into the chapel. Prostrate yourself before the cross. I shall take care of the needs of your body. It will only be a frugal meal, such as you might expect of a hermit.’

I went into the chapel and did indeed pray, for I was no freethinker and did not even know then of their existence. This again was an effect of the way I had been brought up.

The hermit came to fetch me after about a quarter of an hour and led me to the cabin, where I found the table already laid in a wholesome if simple way.