I must
undo this wrong with all the strength I have.'

'Look you, master,' answered Sancho hastily, 'if you take up with this
adventure, you will fare worse than you did with the windmills. Those
are no magicians but monks of St. Benedict, while the others are
travellers, journeying for business or pleasure. Think, I pray you, lest
it be a snare of the Evil One.'

'I have often told you, Sancho, that, being what you are, you can know
nothing of adventures,' replied Don Quixote; 'but what I have said, I
do, as you will see'; and as he spoke he planted himself in the middle
of the road, and awaited the approach of the friars.

As soon as they drew near enough for his voice to reach their ears, Don
Quixote cried loudly:

'Fiends and scum of all the wicked, set free on this instant the captive
princess whom you hold imprisoned in that coach, or else prepare for
death, which is the just punishment of all your crimes.'

The monks reined in their mules and stared at Don Quixote, whose figure,
to say truth, was no less startling than his words. At first they were
very angry, then gentler counsels prevailed, and they answered:

'Fair sir, we are neither fiends nor scum, but only two friars of St.
Benedict, who are riding peacefully along the king's highway, and know
nothing of any captive princess.'

'Miscreants that you are, do you think I am a man to be deceived by
false speeches?' cried the Don, now beside himself with fury, and,
dashing with his lance in rest at the friar next him, he would indeed
have given him his last shrift had not the monk slipped cleverly from
the other side of his saddle, so that the lance passed over his head.
His companion, fearing that like treatment was in store for him,
galloped away with all his might.

As for the squire, directly he saw the man fall to the ground he ran up
and began to strip off his clothes, till he was stopped in this
proceeding by a blow on his head from one of the attendants of the two
monks. The friar, left to himself, jumped on his mule, and rode off
pale and trembling to rejoin his companion, while Don Quixote busied
himself with conversing with the lady in the coach, and assuring her of
his protection.

* * * * *

It were long indeed to tell of the many battles delivered by Don
Quixote, who troubled himself little about the sore wounds he received
on his own body as long as he could give aid to those in distress. What
grieved h