The youthful salt here pulled out an enormous double-case silver watch with an air of perfect nonchalance, and awaited the result. For a few seconds the gypsy was overwhelmed by the lad's coolness; then he burst into a gruff laugh and rushed at him. He might as well have run at a squirrel. The boy sprang to one side, crossed the road at a bound, and, still holding the watch, said-- "Half a minute gone!" Again the man rushed at his small opponent with similar result, and a cool remark, that another half minute was gone. This so exasperated the gypsy, that he ran wildly after the boy for half a minute, but the latter was as active as a kitten, and could not be caught. "Time's up; two minutes and a quarter; so don't say that I'm not merciful. Now, follow me to the constable." So saying, Billy, as the man had called him, turned his back towards the pass, and ran off at full speed towards the village. The gypsy followed him at once, feeling that his only chance lay in capturing the boy; but so artfully did Billy hang back and allow his pursuer to come close up, that he had almost succeeded in enticing him into the village, when the man became suddenly aware of his folly, and stopped. Billy stopped too. "What! you're not game to come on?" The man shook his fist, and, turning his face towards the pass, ran back towards his booth in the hills, intending to take the boy's first piece of advice, and quit that part of the country. But Billy had no idea of letting him off thus. He now became the pursuer. However fast the gypsy ran, the sailor-lad kept up with him. If the man halted, as he frequently did in a breathless condition, and tried to gain over his adversary, Billy also stopped, said he was in no hurry, thrust his hands into his jacket pockets, and began to whistle. Thus he kept him in view until they once more stood in the pass. Here the man sat down on a large stone, thoroughly exhausted. The boy sat down on another stone opposite to him, looking quite fresh and jolly. Five years of hearty devotion to a noble calling had prepared the muscles of the little sailor for that day's exercise. The same number of years spent in debauchery and crime had _not_ prepared the vagabond giant for that day's work. "What has brought you back?" said Growler, savagely. "To see the old granny whom you stole me from," replied the boy. "Also, to have the satisfaction of puttin' you in limbo; although I did not expect to have this pleasure." "Ha! ha!" laughed Growler, sarcastically, "you'll fail in both. It's not so easy to put me in limbo as you think--and your grandmother is dyin'." "That's false!" cried Billy, springing half way across the road and shaking his little fist at his enemy--"you know it is. The landlord of the `Blue Boar' told me he saw her at church strong and well last Sunday." "She's dyin', however, may be _dead_," said the man, with a sneer so full of triumph, that it struck a chill to the heart of the poor boy.