124 THE GIPSY-CAMP. 



" What, the devil, can't he never make himself comfortable? it's a 

 sad heart as never rejoices ; he must be fetch'd." 



" But who'll fetch him ?" interrogated the old beldame. " Not I ! 

 not I \" was echoed from every lip but mine and the blue-eyed lass's. 



" How far is it to the heath ?" 



" About a mile," was the answer ; " it opens at the end of these 

 woods." 



" Well !" said I, " if any of you dare go with me, I'll try to per- 

 suade the old man to return." 



" Go with him Vinah/' said the old woman, " you have less fear 

 than any of 'em." The fair girl arose, don'd her red cloak and round 

 straw-hat ; and away we went, arm-in-arm, while Lounger ran barking 

 before us. 



We wandered on in silence, until the camp was hidden from our 

 sight by an abrupt turning between the woods a silence which 

 neither of us felt inclined to break. This continued until we came 

 opposite a fine open glade, through which the moonlight streamed 

 like a flood of transparent silver, which was beautifully contrasted by 

 the darkning forest-trees, retaining their unbroken gloominess. 



" What a delightful country this is !" I exclaimed ; " there only 

 wants a rolling river, like the Trent through yon distant heath, to make 

 this wild scene a romantic retreat." 



"Do you know the Trent?" interrogated my fair companion, 

 timidly. 



" Not better than you do, Lavina, or as I should say, Vinah ; for so 

 it seems you choose to be called in the gipsy-camp." The moon 

 now shone full upon her beautiful face; she blushed deeply; then 

 stood like a tranquil statue motionless, with her large blue eyes 

 ri vetted on the grass. I proceeded : 



" I little deemed, Lavina, when I last saw you a sweet, innocent girl, 

 leaving the village-school, that our next meeting would be in a gip- 

 sy's-camp. It is not my business to inquire what ill-fated passion 

 has compelled you to leave your parents and join these wanderers ; 

 but I shall be afraid to look on your dear father and mother again, 

 lest that I should find them broken-hearted." 



She withdrew her arm from mine with all the pride of injured 

 innocence, and looking intently upon my face, while tears chased 

 each other rapidly down her crimson cheeks, replied : 



" I am still innocent ; it was my parents who compelled me to this, 

 by nearly forcing me to wed with a man whom I abhor. Had I 

 taken up my residence in any town, I should soon have been disco- 

 vered it is only in the solitude of these woods that I can shun the only 

 man I really hate. You ought to be the last to feel astonished at my 

 being acquainted with gipsies ; it was you who first led me to their 

 tents, when I rambled with your Mary through the scroggs. I have 

 been familiar with them from childhood. They would sooner perish 

 one by one, than any harm should befal me. I whispered old Abi- 

 gail who you were ; but her keen eye had recognized you at the first 

 glance. I have only been with them two days I am far from feeling 

 comfortable I have slept in that small tent which is divided from 

 the rest the three faithful dogs have been my centinels ; they are 



