The shower had ceased, the sun was again shining out, and there was much to see; so we paid for our drinks and departed.
"Fourpence!" said the Man, as he pocketed his change. "A penny each for the wine and twopence for the liqueur! It's enough to drive one to drink!"
The one drawback to the complete enjoyment of the fair was the mud. The previous night had been wet, and the streets were inches deep in it. It was a buff-coloured slime of persistently adhesive nature, and not content with thickly coating one's shoes, it tried to drag them off. To walk about in mud three inches deep is fatiguing, so we decided to take the train that was due to leave Inca at one o'clock, instead of waiting for that leaving at four.
It was a merciful fortune that guided us, for the one o'clock train took three hours to cover its twenty miles. Yet the scenery, with its grey-green olive plantations set against a background of beautiful mountains and enlivened with quaintly attired olive-gatherers, was so fine that we did not tire of feasting our eyes upon it.
Our companions on the return journey were mainly men--Palma merchants probably, who had visited the fair as buyers and were anxious to return with the greatest possible expedition. When those who were so adventurous as to wait until the later train would get back to town, or whether they ever reached it at all, history does not relate.
[Illustration: Where the Hills Meet the Plain, Esglayeta]
The fertile plain that occupies the greater portion of the island of Majorca is sheltered from cold winds by the range of mountains that runs along the northern coast. The scenery on the farther side of the mountains is of unusual grandeur, the tracts of precipitous country bordering the sea between Valldemosa and Sóller being exceptionally lovely.
The district, which is almost entirely devoted to olive plantations, is a scantily populated one. And as there are no _fondas_ for a considerable distance, the Austrian Archduke Luis Salvador, who owns much land on the northern coast, has turned a large farm-house on his estate of Miramar into an _hospederia_, or free lodging-house, for the use of travellers.
There are many _hospederias_ in Spain, but they are generally attached to monasteries and intended for the use of pilgrims to some shrine. That at Miramar is the only instance I know of one supported by a private individual, and many sojourners from far lands like ourselves must have felt grateful to the royal owner for the kindly provision he has made for them.