in my things," said
Belle, "and have not slept during the night." "And why did you not take
off your things and go to sleep?" said I. "I did not undress," said
Belle, "because I wished to be in readiness to bid you farewell when you
departed; and as for sleeping, I could not." "Well, God bless you!" said
I, taking Belle by the hand. Belle made no answer, and I observed that
her hand was very cold. "What is the matter with you?" said I, looking
her in the face. Belle looked at me for a moment in the eyes, and then
cast down her own--her features were very pale. "You are really unwell,"
said I; "I had better not go to the fair, but stay here, and take care of
you." "No," said Belle, "pray go, I am not unwell." "Then go to your
tent," said I, "and do not endanger your health by standing abroad in the
raw morning air. God bless you, Belle; I shall be home to-night, by
which time I expect you will have made up your mind; if not, another
lesson in Armenian, however late the hour be." I then wrung Belle's
hand, and ascended to the plain above.

I found the Romany party waiting for me, and everything in readiness for
departing. Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno were mounted on two old
horses. The rest who intended to go to the fair, amongst whom were two
or three women, were on foot. On arriving at the extremity of the plain,
I looked towards the dingle. Isopel Berners stood at the mouth, the
beams of the early morning sun shone full on her noble face and figure. I
waved my hand towards her. She slowly lifted up her right arm. I turned
away, and never saw Isopel Berners again.

My companions and myself proceeded on our way. In about two hours we
reached the place where the fair was to be held. After breakfasting on
bread and cheese and ale behind a broken stone wall, we drove our animals
to the fair. The fair was a common cattle and horse fair: there was
little merriment going on, but there was no lack of business. By about
two o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Petulengro and his people had disposed
of their animals at what they conceived very fair prices--they were all
in high spirits, and Jasper proposed to adjourn to a public-house. As we
were proceeding to one, a very fine horse, led by a jockey, made its
appearance on the ground. Mr. Petulengro stopped short, and looked at it
steadfastly: "Fino covar dove odoy sas miro--a fine thing were that, if
it were but mine!" he exclaimed. "If you covet it," said I