ether I believe in fortunes.'

"'Grondinni,' said Mr. Petulengro, 'it haileth. I believe in
dukkeripens, brother.'

"'And who has more right,' said I, 'seeing that you live by them? But
this tempest is truly horrible.'

"'Dearginni, grondinni ta villaminni! It thundereth, it haileth, and
also flameth,' said Mr. Petulengro. 'Look up there, brother!'

"I looked up. Connected with this tempest there was one feature to which
I have already alluded--the wonderful colours of the clouds. Some were
of vivid green; others of the brightest orange; others as black as pitch.
The Gypsy's finger was pointed to a particular part of the sky.

"'What do you see there, brother?'

"'A strange kind of cloud.'

"'What does it look like, brother?'

"'Something like a stream of blood.'

"'That cloud foreshoweth a bloody dukkeripen.'

"'A bloody fortune!' said I. 'And whom may it betide?'

"'Who knows?' said the Gypsy.

"Down the way, dashing and splashing, and scattering man, horse, and cart
to the left and right, came an open barouche, drawn by four smoking
steeds, with postillions in scarlet jackets, and leather skull-caps. Two
forms were conspicuous in it; that of the successful bruiser, and of his
friend and backer, the sporting gentleman of my acquaintance.

"'His!' said the Gypsy, pointing to the latter, whose stern features wore
a smile of triumph, as, probably recognizing me in the crowd, he nodded
in the direction of where I stood, as the barouche hurried by.

"There went the barouche, dashing through the rain gushes', and in it one
whose boast it was that he was equal to 'either fortune.' Many have
heard of that man--many may be desirous of knowing yet more of him. I
have nothing to do with that man's after life--he fulfilled his
dukkeripen. 'A bad, violent man!' Softly, friend; when thou wouldst
speak harshly of the dead, remember that thou hast not yet fulfilled thy
own dukkeripen!"

As Borrow fits these pugilists into the texture of his autobiography, so
he does men who appear not once but a dozen times. Take Jasper
Petulengro out of the books and he does not amount to much. In them he
is a figure of most masculine beauty, a king, a trickster, and thief, but
simple, good with his fists, loving life, manly sport and fair play. He
and Borrow meet and shake hands as "brothers" when they are little boys.
They meet again, by chance, as big boys, and Jasper says: "Your blood
beat when mine was near, as