'Isn't it,brother?I am glad you like it.Offence,brother,no offence at all!I am so glad you like my grandbebee's cake,but she will be wanting me at home.Eat one piece more of grandbebee's cake,and I will go.'
'I am not hungry,I will put the rest by.'
'One piece more before I go,handsome brother,gray-haired brother.'
'I will not eat any more,I have already eaten more than I wished to oblige you;if you must go,good-day to you.'
The girl rose upon her feet,looked hard at me,then at the remainder of the cake which I held in my hand,and then at me again,and then stood for a moment or two,as if in deep thought;presently an air of satisfaction came over her countenance,she smiled and said,'Well,brother,well,do as you please,I merely wished you to eat because you have been so kind to the poor person's child.She loves you so,that she could have wished to have seen you eat it all;good-bye,brother,I daresay when I am gone you will eat some more of it,and if you don't,I daresay you have eaten enough to-to-show your love for us.After all it was a poor person's cake,a Rommany manricli,and all you gorgios are somewhat gorgious.Farewell,brother,pretty brother,gray-haired brother.Come,juggal.'
I remained under the ash tree seated on the grass for a minute or two,and endeavoured to resume the occupation in which I had been engaged before I fell asleep,but I felt no inclination for labour.
I then thought I would sleep again,and once more reclined against the tree,and slumbered for some little time,but my sleep was more agitated than before.Something appeared to bear heavy on my breast,I struggled in my sleep,fell on the grass,and awoke;my temples were throbbing,there was a burning in my eyes,and my mouth felt parched;the oppression about the chest which I had felt in my sleep still continued.'I must shake off these feelings,'
said I,'and get upon my legs.'I walked rapidly up and down upon the green sward;at length,feeling my thirst increase,I directed my steps down the narrow path to the spring which ran amidst the bushes;arriving there,I knelt down and drank of the water,but on lifting up my head I felt thirstier than before;again I drank,but with the like result;I was about to drink for the third time,when I felt a dreadful qualm which instantly robbed me of nearly all my strength.What can be the matter with me?thought I;but I suppose I have made myself ill by drinking cold water.I got up and made the best of my way back to my tent;before I reached it the qualm had seized me again,and I was deadly sick.I flung myself on my pallet,qualm succeeded qualm,but in the intervals my mouth was dry and burning,and I felt a frantic desire to drink,but no water was at hand,and to reach the spring once more was impossible;the qualms continued,deadly pains shot through my whole frame;I could bear my agonies no longer,and I fell into a trance or swoon.How long I continued therein I know not;on recovering,however,I felt somewhat better,and attempted to lift my head off my couch;the next moment,however,the qualms and pains returned,if possible,with greater violence than before.I am dying,thought I,like a dog,without any help;and then methought I heard a sound at a distance like people singing,and then once more I relapsed into my swoon.
I revived just as a heavy blow sounded upon the canvas of the tent.
I started,but my condition did not permit me to rise;again the same kind of blow sounded upon the canvas;I thought for a moment of crying out and requesting assistance,but an inexplicable something chained my tongue,and now I heard a whisper on the outside of the tent.'He does not move,bebee,'said a voice which I knew.'I should not wonder if it has done for him already;however,strike again with your ran';and then there was another blow,after which another voice cried aloud in a strange tone,'Is the gentleman of the house asleep,or is he taking his dinner?'I remained quite silent and motionless,and in another moment the voice continued,'What,no answer?what can the gentleman of the house be about that he makes no answer?perhaps the gentleman of the house may be darning his stockings?'Thereupon a face peered into the door of the tent,at the farther extremity of which I was stretched.It was that of a woman,but owing to the posture in which she stood,with her back to the light,and partly owing to a large straw bonnet,I could distinguish but very little of the features of her countenance.I had,however,recognised her voice;it was that of my old acquaintance,Mrs.Herne.'Ho,ho,sir!'
said she,'here you are.Come here,Leonora,'said she to the gypsy girl,who pressed in at the other side of the door;'here is the gentleman,not asleep,but only stretched out after dinner.
Sit down on your ham,child,at the door,I shall do the same.
There-you have seen me before,sir,have you not?'
'The gentleman makes no answer,bebee;perhaps he does not know you.'
'I have known him of old,Leonora,'said Mrs.Herne;'and,to tell you the truth,though I spoke to him just now,I expected no answer.'
'It's a way he has,bebee,I suppose?'
'Yes,child,it's a way he has.'
'Take off your bonnet,bebee,perhaps he cannot see your face.'
'I do not think that will be of much use,child;however,I will take off my bonnet-there-and shake out my hair-there-you have seen this hair before,sir,and this face-'
'No answer,bebee.'
'Though the one was not quite so gray,nor the other so wrinkled.'
'How came they so,bebee?'
'All along of this gorgio,child.'
'The gentleman in the house,you mean,bebee?'
'Yes,child,the gentleman in the house.God grant that I may preserve my temper.Do you know,sir,my name?My name is Herne,which signifies a hairy individual,though neither gray-haired nor wrinkled.It is not the nature of the Hernes to be gray or wrinkled,even when they are old,and I am not old.'
'How old are you,bebee?'