 being questioned, the culprit made no secret of his guilt, but rather gloried in it, saying that there was no God but one, and denouncing the adoration of Maria Santissima as rank idolatry.”

“And between ourselves, what is your own opinion of the adoration of this same Maria Santissima?”

“What is my opinion!  Que se io?” said the old man, shrugging up his shoulders still higher than on the former occasion; “but I will tell you; I think, on consideration, that it is quite right and proper; why not?  Let any one pay a visit to my church, and look at her as she stands there, tan bonita, tan guapita—so well dressed and so genteel—with such pretty colours, such red and white, and he would scarcely ask me why Maria Santissima should not be adored.  Moreover, Don Jorgito mio, this is a church matter and forms an important part of the church system.”

“And now, with respect to carnal misdemeanours.  Did you take much cognizance of them?”

“Amongst the laity, not much; we, however, kept a vigilant eye upon our own body, but, upon the whole, were rather tolerant in these matters, knowing that the infirmities of human nature are very great indeed: we rarely punished, save in cases where the glory of the church and loyalty to Maria Santissima made punishment absolutely imperative.”

“And what cases might those be?” I demanded.

“I allude to the desecration of dovecotes, Don Jorge, and the introduction therein of strange flesh, for purposes neither seemly nor convenient.”

“Your reverence will excuse me for not yet perfectly understanding.”

“I mean, Don Jorge, certain acts of flagitiousness practised by the clergy in lone and remote palomares (dovecotes) in olive grounds and gardens; actions denounced, I believe, by the holy Pablo in his first letter to Pope Sixtus. [171]  You understand me now, Don Jorge, for you are learned in church matters.”

“I think I understand you,” I replied.

After remaining several days more at Cordova, I determined to proceed on my journey to Madrid, though the roads were still said to be highly insecure.  I, however, saw but little utility in tarrying and awaiting a more tranquil state of affairs, which might never arrive.  I therefore consulted with the landlord respecting the best means of making the journey.  “Don Jorgito,” he replied, “I think I can tell you.  You say you are anxious to depart, and I never wish to keep guests in my house longer than is agreeable to them;
