“Not at all: he was born near Madrid, at Alcala de Henares. He was a soldier in the early years of his life. He fought in the battle of Lepanto, under Don John. At one time he was a sort of custom-house officer in Seville; but he got into debt, and was imprisoned for three months, during which time he is said to have been engaged in his great work. He was also a prisoner in Algiers five years; and ten times he risked his life in attempts to escape. He finally died in neglect, poverty, and want.”
“Then this is where Don Quixote tilted at windmills,” said Murray, looking out at the window; “and there is one of them.”
“It is not in every province of Spain that the Don could have found a windmill to tilt at,” added the doctor.
About eight o’clock the train stopped for breakfast, which the avant-courier had ordered.
“This is a vine and olive country,” said the doctor, when the train was again in motion.
“Shall we have a chance to see how they make the oil and how they make wine?” asked Sheridan.
“You will have a chance to see how it is done; but you will not be able to see it done at this season of the year. There is an olive-orchard,” continued the doctor, pointing out of the window.
“The trees look like willows; and I should think they were willows.”
“They are not. These trees last a great number of years,—some say, hundreds.”