of Ana Felix had infused into his heart.

CHAPTER LXIV.

TREATING OF THE ADVENTURE WHICH GAVE DON QUIXOTE MORE UNHAPPINESS THAN
ALL THAT HAD HITHERTO BEFALLEN HIM

The wife of Don Antonio Moreno, so the history says, was extremely happy
to see Ana Felix in her house. She welcomed her with great kindness,
charmed as well by her beauty as by her intelligence; for in both
respects the fair Morisco was richly endowed, and all the people of the
city flocked to see her as though they had been summoned by the ringing
of the bells.

Don Quixote told Don Antonio that the plan adopted for releasing Don
Gregorio was not a good one, for its risks were greater than its
advantages, and that it would be better to land himself with his arms and
horse in Barbary; for he would carry him off in spite of the whole
Moorish host, as Don Gaiferos carried off his wife Melisendra.

"Remember, your worship," observed Sancho on hearing him say so, "Senor
Don Gaiferos carried off his wife from the mainland, and took her to
France by land; but in this case, if by chance we carry off Don Gregorio,
we have no way of bringing him to Spain, for there's the sea between."

"There's a remedy for everything except death," said Don Quixote; "if
they bring the vessel close to the shore we shall be able to get on board
though all the world strive to prevent us."

"Your worship hits it off mighty well and mighty easy," said Sancho; "but
'it's a long step from saying to doing;' and I hold to the renegade, for
he seems to me an honest good-hearted fellow."

Don Antonio then said that if the renegade did not prove successful, the
expedient of the great Don Quixote's expedition to Barbary should be
adopted. Two days afterwards the renegade put to sea in a light vessel of
six oars a-side manned by a stout crew, and two days later the galleys
made sail eastward, the general having begged the viceroy to let him know
all about the release of Don Gregorio and about Ana Felix, and the
viceroy promised to do as he requested.

One morning as Don Quixote went out for a stroll along the beach, arrayed
in full armour (for, as he often said, that was "his only gear, his only
rest the fray," and he never was without it for a moment), he saw coming
towards him a knight, also in full armour, with a shining moon painted on
his shield, who, on approaching sufficiently near to be heard, said in a
loud voice, addressing himself to Don Quixote, "Illustrious knight, a