visible. Everywhere noise; everywhere beating of drums, playing of pipes, singing of songs, bowling and laughing. Among the men there ran about a number of saucy gipsy girls, their brown faces showing under red kerchiefs, their black eyes twinkling (truly they are pretty creatures to look upon when they are young; but they have no religion, and say of themselves that they have no souls). These girls talked with each other in their own language, which none out of their own nation--except the tinker-folk, who are said to be their cousins--understand. But English they talk very well, and they are so clever that, it is said, they will talk to a Somersetshire man in good broad Somerset, and to a man of Norfolk in his own speech, though he of Norfolk would not understand him of Somerset. 'They are the vultures,' said Robin, 'who follow for prey. Before the battle these women cajole the soldiers out of their money, and after the battle their men rob and even murder the wounded and plunder the dead.' Then one of them ran and stood before us. 'Let me tell thy fortune, handsome gentleman? Let me tell thine, fair lady? A sixpence or a groat to cross my palm, Captain, and you shall know all that is to happen.' Robin laughed, but gave her sixpence. 'Look me in the face, fair lady'--she spoke good, plain English, this black-eyed wench, though but a moment before she had been talking broad Somerset to a young recruit--'look me in the face; yes. All is not smooth. He loves you; but there will be separation and trouble. One comes between, a big man with a red face; he parts you. There is a wedding, I see your ladyship plain. Why, you are crying at it, you cry all the time; but I do not see this gentleman. Then there is another wedding--yes, another--and I see you at both. You will be twice married. Yet, be of good heart, fair lady.' She turned away and ran after another couple, no doubt with much the same tale. 'How should there be a wedding,' I asked, 'if I am there and you not there, Robin--and I to be crying? And how could I--oh! Robin--how could I be married twice?' 'Nay, Sweetheart, she could not tell what wedding it was. She only uttered the gibberish of her trade; I am sorry that I wasted a sixpence upon her.' 'Robin, is it magic that they practise--these gipsies? Do they traffic with the Devil? We ought not to suffer witches to live amongst us.' 'Most are of opinion that they have no other magic than the art of guessing, which they learn to do very quickly, putting things together, from their appearance; so that if brother and sister walk out together they are taken to be lovers, and promised a happy marriage and many children.' That may be so, and perhaps the fortune told by this gipsy was only guess-work. But I cannot believe it; for the event proved that she had in reality possessed an exact knowledge of what was about to happen.