see that his face, neck, and head were crimsoned and clotted in gore. For a moment I stood paralysed with horror; but recovering myself immediately I sprang into the room. In doing so I knocked over the small settle, on which stood a large brass lamp, the light from which had revealed to me the fearful spectacle. The fire had burned low, and the brands only gave a dim red glow, insufficient to reveal surrounding objects. I stayed for a moment in the position in which I had fallen, only raising myself on my elbow, and clutching my knife to repel the attack which I expected; for the murderer might even now be in the room, scared only for a moment from his victim by my sudden entrance. I heard no sound save the beating of the storm and the muttered roll of the thunder, which was now dying away in the distance. Still I listened, till the drums of my ears seemed to throb and ring with the anxious tension of my excited nerves. Then I cautiously felt my way towards the fire. As I did so my hand came for a moment in contact with the face of my friend; horror, it was dabbled with his blood. Reaching the fire, I pushed the brands together, striving to raise a flame, still holding my knife in readiness to strike, and peering into the darkness to meet, if possible, the attack I momentarily expected. My dread was that my antagonist might have fire-arms, and that a bullet might fell me without the chance of retaliation. In a hand-to-hand struggle my knife would stand me in good stead, and man to man I held myself as good as any Portuguese that ever drew breath. Now the brands which I had stirred broke into a slight flicker of flame, and as they did so I crouched back behind the body, lest the light should make me a mark for the dreaded bullet. Still no sound was within the house, though I could hear distinctly the pulsation of my heart, and each beat seemed to send the blood in a rush to my brain. Yes, I heard two or three words indistinctly spoken and then a muffled footfall overhead. The trap-door at the top of the ladder was gently raised, and a bare foot appeared. I started up, with my knife raised ready to throw myself on the intruder as he should descend the ladder. He came down three or four steps, and then stopped below the trap-door, and held forward a lamp which seemed to throw a dazzling flood of light into the room. It was the old man whom I had seen on our first arrival, he saw me standing drawn together, my knife raised in act to spring upon him. He shrieked “O Deos!” and sprang up through the trap, which fell with a clang behind him, and I was again in darkness. The evident terror which he showed somewhat reassured me. I could hear him moving hurriedly overhead, and apparently rousing his wife. Was it possible, I thought, that this weak old man could have nerved himself to commit so horrible a crime? and if so, to what purpose? Just at this moment there came a hasty knocking at the door, and I heard the voice of my arriero, crying:
“Ola, Senor! Ola! abri a porta.”
Pushing the ashes of the fire again together, I went to the door, and after some difficulty succeeded in removing the heavy bar which fastened it. I said nothing as he came in, for I feared if I suddenly told him of the horrible crime which had been committed, that he might take flight, and I should be again left alone. After letting him in, I stood for a moment holding the door ajar, and listened to hear if any footstep without should tell that he was followed. In the meantime, and while I was closing the door, José had drawn from some nook around the hearth a bunch of maize husks, which he lighted among the ashes. The flame immediately revealed to him the bloody spectacle, and he started back, exclaiming, “Bom Jesus!” At the same moment the prostrate figure rose slowly to a sitting posture, and passing one hand across his face, stared first at one and then at the other of us, and finally stammered:
“I say Charley, old fellow, why, what’s the matter?”
I sprang forward, and caught him by the shoulders to support him, delighted to find even that he was alive, and while I did so the arriero picked up and relighted the lamp which I had thrown down in entering. As he brought it forward I gazed anxiously at my friend. He was covered with blood, indeed, but it flowed not from the gaping wound which I expected to see in his neck or breast, but from his nose. I stared stupidly at him for an instant, and then burst into a roar of laughter; the sudden revulsion of feeling quite overcame me, and if it is physically possible for a man to be hysterical, I was so on that occasion, for I ended by bursting into tears, and it was some minutes before I could reply to Smith’s confused and astonished inquiries. I then bethought me that the old couple upstairs must be almost as much terrified as I myself had been, and I directed José to mount the ladder and call to them. They had piled some heavy articles upon the trap, and it took a great deal of expostulation and persuasion before he could prevail on the old man to come down and be paid preparatory to our departure. The manner in which Smith had inflicted on himself the injury which had caused my alarm was easily perceptible. In his drunken sleep he had thrown himself over from one side to the other, and in doing so, had struck himself a severe blow against a large block of wood, which was lying close by the fire ready to replenish it. His proboscis was considerably swollen, and he had lost a good deal of blood; but this had a beneficial effect, for he was soon sufficiently steadied to mount his horse, and ride forward to Coimbra.
Whether the horseman who had passed us on the road was or was not the smuggler son of our host and hostess, we could not ascertain satisfactorily, but our arriero seemed to think that it must have been him, and that, alarmed at our appearance, and perhaps taking us for the officers of the tobacco contract, which is farmed out by the government, he had ridden to some safe place of deposit for the goods he had brought from Figuera, in place of going to his home, where they would naturally repair to look for him. I reached Coimbra just in time to save the mail to Lisbon, but my nerves were so shaken by the excitement I had undergone, that it was many days before I got over the effects of our ride to Busaco.