t 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 {101}--a fine thing were
that, if it were but mine!' he exclaimed. 'If you covet it,' said I,
'why do you not purchase it?' 'We low gyptians never buy animals of that
description; if we did we could never sell them, and most likely should
be had up as horse-stealers.' 'Then why did you say just now, "It were a
fine thing if it were but yours?"' said I. 'We gyptians always say so
when we see anything that we admire. An animal like that is not intended
for a little hare like me, but for some grand gentleman like yourself. I
say, brother, do you buy that horse!' 'How should I buy the horse, you
foolish person!' said I. 'Buy the horse, brother,' said Mr. Petulengro,
'if you have not the money I can lend it you; though I be of lower
Egypt.' 'You talk nonsense,' said I; 'however, I wish you would ask the
man the price of it.' Mr. Petulengro, going up to the jockey, inquired
the price of the horse--the man, looking at him scornfully, made no
reply. 'Young man,' said I, going up to the jockey, 'do me the favour to
tell me the price of that horse, as I suppose it is to sell.' The
jockey, who was a surly-looking man, of about fifty, looked at me for a
moment, then, after some hesitation, said, laconically, 'Seventy.'
'Thank you,' said I, and turned away. 'Buy that horse,' said Mr.
Petulengro, coming after me; 'the dook tells me that in less than three
months he will be sold for twice seventy.' 'I will have nothing to do
with him,' said I; 'besides, Jasper, I don't