The heat was intolerable, being artificially increased by a fire. The harvest had just been got in; and it is the custom in Andalusia to burn the stubble as soon as the sheaves are carted away, in order that the ashes may improve the ground. The country was in flames for two or three leagues all round, and the wind, which singed its wings in its passage through this fiery ocean, wafted to us gusts of hot air, like that which escapes from the mouth of a stove. We were placed in the same position as the scorpions that children surround with a circle of shavings, which they set on fire; the poor creatures are obliged to make a desperate effort to get out, or to commit suicide by turning their sting against themselves. We preferred the first alternative.

The galera in which we had come to Cordova took us back by the same road, as far as Ecija, where we asked for a calessin, to convey us to Seville. We succeeded in finding one, but when the driver saw us, he found us too tall, too big, and too heavy, and made all sorts of objections. Our trunks, he asserted, were so enormously weighty, that it would require four men to move them; and the consequence was, that they would immediately cause his vehicle to break down. The truth of the last objection we disproved, by placing, unassisted and with the greatest ease, the portmanteaus thus calumniated, on the back part of the calessin. The rascal, having no more objections to raise, at last decided on setting out.

For several leagues the view consisted of nothing save flat, or vaguely-undulating ground, planted with olive-trees, whose grey colour was rendered still more insipid by the dust upon them, and large sandy plains, whose uniform appearance was broken, from time to time, by balls of blackish vegetation, like vegetable warts.

At La Sinsiana, the whole population was stretched out before the doors of the houses, and snoring away in the open air. Our vehicle obliged the rows of sleepers to rise and stand up against the wall in order to allow us to pass, grumbling all the while, and bestowing on us all the treasures of the Andalusian vocabulary. We supped in a suspicious-looking posada, more liberally furnished with muskets and blunderbusses than cooking utensils. A number of immense dogs followed all our movements with the most obstinate perseverance, and seemed to be only awaiting the signal to fall on us, and tear us to pieces. The landlady looked extremely surprised at the voracious tranquillity with which we despatched our tomato omelette. She appeared to consider the repast quite superfluous, and to regret our devouring so much food, which would never be of any good to us. In spite of the sinister aspect of the place, however, we were not assassinated, and the people were merciful enough to allow us to continue our journey.

The ground became more and more sandy, and the wheels of the calessin sank up to their naves in the shifting soil. We now understood why our driver had so strongly objected to our specific gravity. To ease the horse a little, we got down, and, about midnight, after having followed a road which wound round a steep rock in a zigzag direction, we reached Cormana, where we were to pass the night. Some limekilns cast their long, reddish reflection over the line of rocks, producing most powerful and admirably picturesque Rembrandt-like effects.

The room into which we were shown was ornamented with some wretched lithographed plates representing various episodes of the revolution of July, such as the taking of the Hôtel de Ville, and so on. This circumstance pleased and almost moved us; it was like seeing a piece of France framed and hung up against the wall. Cormana, which we had scarcely time to look at, as we once more got into our calessin, is a little town as white as cream; the campanilas and towers of an old convent of Carmelite nuns give it a very picturesque appearance, and that is all we can say about it.

Beyond Cormana, luxuriant plants, cactuses, and aloe-trees, which had for some time deserted us, now appeared again more bristling and ferocious than ever. The landscape was less bare and arid, and more varied; the heat, too, had lost something of its intensity. We soon afterwards reached Alcala de los Panaderos, celebrated for the excellence of its bread, as its name signifies, and for its novillos (young bulls) fights, to which the aficionados of Seville resort when the circus there is closed. Alcala de los Panaderos is situated very pleasantly at the bottom of a small valley, irrigated by a river; it is sheltered by a hill, on which the ruins of an old Moorish palace are still standing. We were approaching Seville; in fact, it was not long ere the Giralda displayed on the horizon its open lantern and then its square tower: a few hours afterwards we were passing through the Puerta de Cormana, whose arch enclosed a background of dusty light, in which galeras, asses, mules, and carts drawn by oxen, some coming to the town and others leaving it, crossed each other in a flood of golden vapour. To the left of the road arose the stone arcades of a superb aqueduct, of a truly Roman appearance: on the other side were rows of houses built nearer and nearer to each other: we were at Seville.