The diligence
proceeded on its route, and stopped to breakfast at Vinaroz.
The kitchen of the posada at Vinaroz offered a scene of unusual
confusion. The hostess was no other than the mother of Pepe, a very
decent-looking Catalan woman, who, I understood, had been sent there the
year before by the Diligence Company, which is concerned in all the inns
at which their coaches stop throughout the line. She had already been
told of the probable fate of her son, and was preparing to set off for
Amposta in the deepest affliction; and yet her sorrow, though evidently
real, was singularly combined with her habitual household cares. The
unusual demand for breakfast by fourteen hungry passengers had created
some little confusion, and the poor woman, instead of leaving these
matters to take care of themselves, felt the force of habit, and was
issuing a variety of orders to her assistant; nor was she unmindful
of her appearance, but had already changed her frock and stockings,
and thrown on her mantilla, preparatory to departure. It was indeed a
singular and piteous sight to see the poor perplexed woman changing some
fish that were frying, lest they should be burnt on one side, adjusting
and repinning her mantilla, and sobbing and crying all the while.
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