as they liked. Yes, it would be
foolish to throw away such a chance. At any rate, he would take the air
after tea in Deadman's Lane, and if there he should meet--oh! how he
wondered what his fortune would be! Tea was a feverish meal for Bilk
that evening. He spoke to no one, and ate very little; and as the hand
of the clock worked round to a quarter to six he began to feel
distinctly that a crisis in his life was approaching. He was glad
neither Dell nor Morgan, whose studies probably kept them in their
study, were at tea. They were such fellows for worrying him, and just
now he wanted to be in peace.

The meal was over at last, and the boys rushed off to enjoy their short
liberty before the hour of preparation. Bilk, who had taken the
precaution to put both a sixpence and a cricket-cap in his pocket,
silently and unobserved slid out into the deserted playground, and in
another minute stood beyond the precincts of Holmhurst.

Deadman's Lane was scarcely three minutes distant, and thither, with
nervous steps, he wended his way, fumbling the sixpence in his pocket,
and straining his eyes in the darkness for any sign of the gipsies.
Alas! it seemed to be a vain quest. The lane was deserted, and the
cross roads he knew were too far distant to get there and back in half
an hour. He was just thinking of giving it up and turning back, when a
sound behind one of the hedges close to him startled him and sent his
heart to his mouth. He stood still to listen, and heard a gruff voice
say--or rather intone--the following mysterious couplet:

Ramsdam pammydiddle larrybonnywigtail
Wigtaillarrybonny keimo.

This could be no other than an incantation, and Bilk stood rooted to the
spot, unable to advance or retreat. He heard a rustling in the hedge,
and the incantation suddenly ceased. Then a figure like that of an old
man bent with age and clad in a ragged coat which nearly touched the
ground advanced slowly, saying in croaking accent as he did so--

"Ah, young gentleman, we've waited for ye. We couldn't go till we'd
seen ye; for we've something to tell ye. Come quietly this way, and say
not a word, or the spell's broken--come, young gentleman; come, young
gentleman;" and the old man went on crooning the words to himself as he
led the way with tottering steps round the hedge, and discovered a sort
of tent in which sat, with her face half shrouded in a shawl, an old
woman who wagged her head incessantly and chatter