CHAPTER XV
THE DAWN OF DAY--THE LAST FAREWELL--DEPARTURE FOR THE FAIR--THE FINEHORSE--RETURN TO THE DINGLE--NO ISOPEL
It was about the dawn of day when I was awakened by the voice of Mr.Petulengro shouting from the top of the dingle, and bidding me get up. Iarose instantly, and dressed myself for the expedition to the fair. Onleaving my tent, I was surprised to observe Belle, entirely dressed,standing close to her own little encampment. 'Dear me,' said I, 'Ilittle expected to find you up so early. I suppose Jasper's callawakened you, as it did me.' 'I merely lay down in my things,' saidBelle, 'and have not slept during the night.' 'And why did you not takeoff your things and go to sleep?' said I. 'I did not undress,' saidBelle, 'because I wished to be in readiness to bid you farewell when youdeparted; and as for sleeping I could not.' 'Well, God bless you!' saidI, taking Belle by the hand. Belle made no answer, and I observed thather hand was very cold. 'What is the matter with you?' said I, lookingher in the face. Belle looked at me for a moment in the eyes, and thencast down her own--her features were very pale. 'You are really unwell,'said I, 'I had better not go to the fair, but stay here, and take care ofyou.' 'No,' said Belle, 'pray go, I am not unwell.' 'Then go to yourtent,' said I, 'and do not endanger your health by standing abroad in theraw morning air. God bless you, Belle, I shall be home to-night, bywhich time I expect you will have made up your mind, if not, anotherlesson in Armenian, however late the hour be.' I then wrung Belle'shand, and ascended to the plain above.
I found the Romany party waiting for me, and everything in readiness fordeparting. Mr. Petulengro and Tawno Chikno were mounted on two oldhorses. The rest, who intended to go to the fair, amongst whom were twoor three women, were on foot. On arriving at the extremity of the plain,I looked towards the dingle. Isopel Berners stood at the mouth, thebeams 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. Iturned away, and never saw Isopel Berners again.
My companions and myself proceeded on our way. In about two hours wereached the place where the fair was to be held. After breakfasting onbread and cheese and ale behind a broken stone wall, we drove our animalsto the fair. The fair was a common cattle and horse fair: there waslittle merriment going on, but there was no lack of business. By abouttwo o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Petulengro and his people had disposedof their animals at what they conceived very fair prices--they were allin high spirits, and Jasper proposed to adjourn to a public-house. As wewere proceeding to one, a very fine horse, led by a jockey, made itsappearance on the ground. Mr. Petulengro stopped short, and looked at itsteadfastly: 'Fino covar dove odoy sas miro {101}--a fine thing werethat, 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 thatdescription; if we did we could never sell them, and most likely shouldbe had up as horse-stealers.' 'Then why did you say just now, "It were afine thing if it were but yours?"' said I. 'We gyptians always say sowhen we see anything that we admire. An animal like that is not intendedfor a little hare like me, but for some grand gentleman like yourself. Isay, brother, do you buy that horse!' 'How should I buy the horse, youfoolish 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 lowerEgypt.' 'You talk nonsense,' said I; 'however, I wish you would ask theman the price of it.' Mr. Petulengro, going up to the jockey, inquiredthe price of the horse--the man, looking at him scornfully, made noreply. 'Young man,' said I, going up to the jockey, 'do me the favour totell me the price of that horse, as I suppose it is to sell.' Thejockey, who was a surly-looking man, of about fifty, looked at me for amoment, 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 threemonths he will be sold for twice seventy.' 'I will have nothing to dowith him,' said I; 'besides, Jasper, I don't like his tail. Did youobserve what a mean scrubby tail he has?' 'What a fool you are,brother,' said Mr. Petulengro; 'that very tail of his shows his breeding.No good bred horse ever yet carried a fine tail--'tis your scrubby-tailedhorses that are your out-and-outers. Did you ever hear of Syntax,brother? That tail of his puts me in mind of Syntax. Well, I saynothing more, have your own way--all I wonder at is, that a horse likehim was ever brought to such a fair of dog cattle as this.'
We then made the best of our way to a public-house, where we had somerefreshment. I then proposed returning to the encampment, but Mr.Petulengro declined, and remained drinking with his companions till aboutsix o'clock in the evening, when various jockeys from the fair came in.After some conversation a jockey proposed a game of cards; and in alittle time, Mr. Petulengro and another gypsy sat down to play a game ofcards with two of the jockeys.
Though not much acquainted with cards, I soon conceived a suspicion thatthe jockeys were cheating Mr. Petulengro and his companion, I thereforecalled Mr. Petulengro aside, and gave him a hint to that effect. Mr.Petulengro, however, instead of thanking me, told me to mind my own breadand butter, and forthwith returned to his game. I continued watching theplayers for some hours. The gypsies lost considerably, and I saw clearlythat the jockeys were cheating them most confoundedly. I therefore oncemore called Mr. Petulengro aside, and told him that the jockeys werecheating him, conjuring him to return to the encampment. Mr. Petulengro,who was by this time somewhat the worse for liquor, now fell into apassion, swore several oaths, and asking me who had made me a Moses overhim and his brethren, told me to return to the encampment by myself.Incensed at the unworthy return which my well-meant words received, Iforthwith left the house, and having purchased a few articles ofprovision, I set out for the dingle alone. It was dark night when Ireached it, and descending I saw the glimmer of a fire from the depths ofthe dingle; my heart beat with fond anticipation of a welcome. 'IsopelBerners is waiting for me,' said I, 'and the first word that I shall hearfrom her lips is that she has made up her mind. We shall go to America,and be so happy together.' On reaching the bottom of the dingle,however, I saw seated near the fire, not Isopel Berners, but a gypsygirl, who told me that Miss Berners when she went away had charged her tokeep up the fire, and have a kettle boiling against my arrival. Startledat these words, I inquired at what hour Isopel had left, and whither shewas gone, and was told that she had left the dingle, with her cart, abouttwo hours after I departed; but where she was gone she (the girl) did notknow. I then asked whether she had left no message, and the girl repliedthat she had left none, but had merely given directions about the kettleand fire, putting, at the same time, sixpence into her hand. 'Verystrange,' thought I; then dismissing the gypsy girl I sat down by thefire. I had no wish for tea, but sat looking on the embers, wonderingwhat could be the motive of the sudden departure of Isopel. 'Does shemean to return?' thought I to myself. 'Surely she means to return,' Hopereplied, 'or she would not have gone away without leaving anymessage'--'and yet she could scarcely mean to return,' mutteredForeboding, 'or she would assuredly have left some message with thegirl.' I then thought to myself what a hard thing it would be, if, afterhaving made up my mind to assume the yoke of matrimony, I should bedisappointed of the woman of my choice. 'Well, after all,' thought I, 'Ican scarcely be disappointed; if such an ugly scoundrel as Sylvester hadno difficulty in getting such a nice wife as Ursula, surely I, who am nota tenth part so ugly, cannot fail to obtain the hand of Isopel Berners,uncommonly fine damsel though she be. Husbands do not grow uponhedge-rows; she is merely gone after a little business and will returnto-morrow.'
Comforted in some degree by these hopeful imaginings, I retired to mytent, and went to sleep.
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