So the struggle ended, and we resumed our route, Mr. Petulengro sitting
sideways upon his horse as before, and I driving my little pony-cart; and
when he had proceeded about three miles, we came to a small public-house,
which bore the sign of the Silent Woman, where we stopped to refresh our
cattle and ourselves; and as we sat over our bread and ale, it came to
pass that Mr. Petulengro asked me various questions, and amongst others,
how I intended to dispose of myself; I told him that I did not know;
whereupon with considerable frankness, he invited me to his camp, and
told me that if I chose to settle down amongst them, and become a Rommany
chal, I should have his wife's sister, Ursula, who was still unmarried,
and occasionally talked of me.

I declined his offer, assigning as a reason the recent death of Mrs.
Herne, of which I was the cause, although innocent. "A pretty life I
should lead with those two," said I, "when they came to know it."
"Pooh," said Mr. Petulengro, "they will never know it. I shan't blab,
and as for Leonora, that girl has a head on her shoulders." "Unlike the
woman in the sign," said I, "whose head is cut off. You speak nonsense,
Mr. Petulengro; as long as a woman has a head on her shoulders she'll
talk,--but, leaving women out of the case, it is impossible to keep
anything a secret; an old master of mine told me so long ago. I have
moreover another reason for declining your offer. I am at present not
disposed for society. I am become fond of solitude. I wish I could find
some quiet place to which I could retire to hold communion with my own
thoughts, and practise, if I thought fit, either of my trades." "What
trades?" said Mr. Petulengro. "Why, the one which I have lately been
engaged in, or my original one, which I confess I should like better,
that of a kaulomescro." "Ah, I have frequently heard you talk of making
horse-shoes," said Mr. Petulengro. "I, however, never saw you make one,
and no one else that I am aware, I don't believe--come, brother, don't be
angry, it's quite possible that you may have done things which neither I
nor any one else has seen you do, and that such things may some day or
other come to light, as you say nothing can be kept secret. Be that,
however, as it may, pay the reckoning and let us be going, I think I can
advise you to just such a kind of place as you seem to want."

"And how do you know that I have got wherewithal to pay the reckoning?" I
demande