me--it hesitated a moment, as if it was doubtful
whether it should not seize me; it did not, however, but made off down
the hill. It has often struck me that he was angry with me, and came
upon me unawares for presuming to meddle with his people, as I have
always been in the habit of doing."

The passages quoted from "Lavengro" are representative only of the
_spirit_ of the book, which, as I have suggested, diminishes with
Borrow's increasing years, but pervades the physical activity, the "low
life" and open air, and prevails over them. I will give one other
example of his by no means everyday magic--the incident of the poisoned
cake. The Gypsy girl Leonora discovers him and betrays him to his enemy,
old hairy Mrs. Herne:

"Leaning my back against the tree I was not long in falling into a
slumber; I quite clearly remember that slumber of mine beneath the ash
tree, for it was about the sweetest slumber that I ever enjoyed; how long
I continued in it I don't know; I could almost have wished that it had
lasted to the present time. All of a sudden it appeared to me that a
voice cried in my ear, 'Danger! danger! danger!' Nothing seemingly could
be more distinct than the words which I heard; then an uneasy sensation
came over me, which I strove to get rid of, and at last succeeded, for I
awoke. The Gypsy girl was standing just opposite to me, with her eyes
fixed upon my countenance; a singular kind of little dog stood beside
her.

"'Ha!' said I, 'was it you that cried danger? What danger is there?'

"'Danger, brother, there is no danger; what danger should there be? I
called to my little dog, but that was in the wood; my little dog's name
is not danger, but stranger; what danger should there be, brother.'

"'What, indeed, except in sleeping beneath a tree; what is that you have
got in your hand?'

"'Something for you,' said the girl, sitting down and proceeding to untie
a white napkin; 'a pretty manricli, so sweet, so nice; when I went home
to my people I told my grandbebee how kind you had been to the poor
person's child, and when my grandbebee saw the kekaubi, she said, "Hir mi
devlis, it won't do for the poor people to be ungrateful; by my God, I
will bake a cake for the young harko mescro."'

"'But there are two cakes.'

"'Yes, brother, two cakes, both for you; my grandbebee meant them both
for you--but list, brother, I will have one of them for bringing them. I
know you will give me one, pretty brother