half a sheet to her fugitive guest, who was flying from her across the sea in a frigate or brigantine. It was indicated in the two stories that Helen went with no very ill will, for she was smiling artfully and roguishly, but the fair Dido seemed to be shedding tears as large as walnuts from her eyes. Seeing which Don Quixote said, "These two ladies were unfortunate in not having been born in this age; and, above all, unfortunate am I for not having been born in theirs! For had I met those gentlemen, Troy would not have been burned, nor Carthage destroyed; for, by the death of Paris alone, all these miseries had been prevented."--"I will lay you a wager," quoth Sancho, "that before long there will not be a tavern, a victualing house, an inn, or a barber's shop but will have the story of our deeds painted along it. But I could wish that it may be done by the hands of a better painter than he that drew these."--"Thou art in the right, Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for this artist is like Orbaneja, a painter who was in Ubeda, who, being asked what he was painting, made answer, 'Whatever it shall turn out;' and if he chanced to draw a cock, he under-wrote, 'This is a cock,' lest any should take it for a fox. Of the same sort, it seems to me, Sancho, must be the painter or the writer (for it is all one) who produced the story of this new Don Quixote that has lately come out, for he painted or wrote 'whatever should turn out.' Or he must be like a poet called Mauleon, who went about Madrid some years ago, and would give answers extempore to any questions, and when somebody asked what was the meaning of 'Deum de Deo,' answered, 'Done as one can do.' "But setting this aside, tell me, Sancho, if you think of taking another turn to-night? and would you rather do it under a roof or in the open air?"--"Why, truly, sir," quoth Sancho, "as to what I think of giving myself, it may be done as well at home as in the fields, but withal I could like it to be among trees; for methinks they keep me company, and help me marvelously to bear my sufferings." THE RETURN AND DEATH OF DON QUIXOTE _By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_