were discussing what the future
was holding for them, and Sancho gave the glad news to his master that
he had induced his wife to sanction his departure and his becoming
governor. Sancho was very much annoyed by his master's continual
interruptions and corrections. Whenever Sancho would misuse or abuse a
word, as he did in almost every sentence, Don Quixote would stop and
ask him what he meant, until poor Sancho was so confused that he did
not know what he had meant. Finally Don Quixote asked him to tell him
all that his wife had said, and as soon as Sancho had a chance to use
proverbs again, he felt more at home. "Teresa says," he repeated,
"that I should make sure with your Worship, and let papers speak and
beards be still. One _take_ is better than two _I'll give thee's_."

"And so say I," said Don Quixote. "Continue, Sancho my friend. Go on;
thou talkest pearls to-day."

"The fact is," continued Sancho, "that, as your Worship knows better
than I do, we are all of us liable to death, and to-day we are, and
to-morrow we are not. The lamb goes as soon as the sheep, and nobody
can promise himself more hours of life in this world than God may be
pleased to give him; for death is deaf, and when it comes to knock at
our life's door, it is always insistent, and neither prayers, nor
struggles, nor scepters, nor miters, can keep it back, as they tell us
from the pulpits every day."

Here Don Quixote felt he ought to ask a question. "Sancho," said he,
"all that is true; but what art thou driving at?"

And then came the reason for all these long-winded preliminaries.
Sancho wanted his master to make definite arrangements with him for
compensation. But here was the drawback. Don Quixote could recall no
incident in any of the many books he had read, when a knight errant
had given his squire fixed wages. How could he possibly establish a
precedent now? And so it became his sad and solemn duty to refuse his
squire's miserly request, and inform him that his services were no
longer wanted. Not only that, but our valiant hero was cruel enough to
remark that there would be any number of people who would be only too
eager to serve him; and, what was more, he was convinced that no one
could be less careful and diligent, or more thick-headed and talkative
than Sancho.

Poor Sancho stood thunderstruck. He had expected his master would
address him in a much more gracious manner; and had taken for granted
that his own person was indis