time; it was not kind in you,
however, to frighten the poor person's child so by screaming out, but it
was kind in you to give the rikkeni kekaubi to the child of the poor
person. She will be grateful to you; she will bring you her little dog
to show you, her pretty juggal; the poor person's child will come and see
you again; you are not going away to-day, I hope, or to-morrow, pretty
brother, gray-haired brother--you are not going away to-morrow, I hope?'

'Nor the next day,' said I, 'only to take a stroll to see if I can sell a
kettle; good-bye, little sister, Rommany sister, dingy sister.'

'Good-bye, tall brother,' said the girl, as she departed, singing

'The Rommany chi,' etc.

'There's something about that girl that I don't understand,' said I to
myself; 'something mysterious. However, it is nothing to me, she knows
not who I am, and if she did, what then?'

Late that evening as I sat on the shaft of my cart in deep meditation,
with my arms folded, I thought I heard a rustling in the bushes over
against me. I turned my eyes in that direction, but saw nothing. 'Some
bird,' said I; 'an owl, perhaps'; and once more I fell into meditation;
my mind wandered from one thing to another--musing now on the structure
of the Roman tongue--now on the rise and fall of the Persian power--and
now on the powers vested in recorders at quarter-sessions. I was
thinking what a fine thing it must be to be a recorder of the peace,
when, lifting up my eyes, I saw right opposite, not a culprit at the bar,
but, staring at me through a gap in the bush, a face wild and strange,
half covered with gray hair; I only saw it a moment, the next it had
disappeared.

{picture:I saw, staring at me through a gap in the bush, a face wild and
strange, half covered with gray hair: page396.jpg}

CHAPTER LXXI

Friend of Slingsby--All quiet--Danger--The two cakes--Children in the
wood--Don't be angry--In deep thought--Temples throbbing--Deadly
sick--Another blow--No answer--How old are you?--Play and sacrament--Heavy
heart--Song of poison--Drow of gypsies--The dog--Ely's church--Get up,
bebee--The vehicle--Can you speak?--The oil.

The next day, at an early hour, I harnessed my little pony, and, putting
my things in my cart, I went on my projected stroll. Crossing the moor,
I arrived in about an hour at a small village, from which, after a short
stay, I proceeded to another, and from thence to a third. I found that
the name of S