Where am I? I've gone wrong. Let me think. Count Vasquez was right. What did he say to me? "Pedro Griggo" - that's Spanish for Peter Grigg - "don't go alone in the mountains." I wish I had taken his advice. Yet, I'm artistic, I love solitude! Not too much of it at a time; and I prefer it when I've got some one to share it with me. It's this confounded camera that has laid me astray. Let me see: how was it? Oh, of course - In consequence of my ardent desire to show my wife, on my return to England, where I had been, and how I had personally conducted myself, I've lugged about this infernal machine everywhere. I've "taken" everything that came in my way: brooks, rocks, and I'd have taken a five-barred gate if there'd been one in my way. Well - two more views, my friend - confidentially "in camera" - and down I go. Oh! how I wish there was some one here to guide my steps safely back to Compostello. Talking of guiding my steps, won't my wife be astonished when I show her how to dance the bolero, the cachuca, and the wizzimarilla. That's a round dance - all Spanish - I learnt them from a dancing mistress in Compostello - I shall tell my wife it was a dancing master - sounds better and avoids discussion. I'm so fond of it! dancing I mean, not discussion. It's so exhilarating - but now to business -