Our friends found themselves upon the heath, that was occupied by very much the same sort of crowd which had obstructed the roads leading hither. It was dotted all over by gipsies’ tents, fruit-stalls, refreshment-stands, costermongers’ carts, and so forth, and so forth, and animated by idlers, loafers, peddlers, ballad-singers, image-boys, fortune-tellers, “confidence” men, and women, thieves, gamblers, and, in short, every variety of the lower order of human nature. Passing through all these—passing barrier after barrier, and circle after circle, our party at last found themselves upon the fine breezy and commanding hill, which was comparatively free from the crowd, and occupied only by the carriages of the nobility and gentry, filled with fair women and well-behaved men. CHAPTER XVI. THE GIPSIES. “Theirs is the deep lore of the olden time, And in it are fine mysteries of the stars Solved with a cunning wisdom, and strange thoughts, Half prophecy, half poetry, and dreams Clearer than truth, and speculations wild That touched the secrets of your very soul.” The General and his friends selected the best front sites that were left vacant, and had their carriages turned around and the horses taken from them and led away to distant stalls and fodder. Then all reseated themselves and looked around them. What a sight! what a crowd! what a turmoil! Far as the eye could reach on every side a turbulent sea of humanity! Where could the people all have sprung from? Had London emptied itself of its population upon Epsom Heath? Had Paris, St. Petersburg and all the great continental cities contributed their thousands? Had earth given up her dead and ocean her prey to swell this crowd? At first, as I said, all seemed but a turbulent sea of human beings; but gradually individual images came out of the confusion. Most prominent among these was the Grand Stand, an elevated and railed platform or gallery where the gamblers in horseflesh congregated to make up their betting-books and watch the race. And most interesting, especially to ladies, was the Royal Box, with its cushioned seats, surmounted by its crown and canopy of state all in burning scarlet and gold. Neither the queen nor any of the princesses occupied the Royal Box; only three or four of the princes, with their lords in waiting, were present. Yet toward that box many field-glasses were leveled—Anna’s among the rest, for— “A substitute shines brightly as a king, Until a king be by.” And failing the queen’s presence, the queen’s sons were objects of absorbing interest. “Neither Victoria nor any of the princesses are here,” said Anna, lowering her glass with a look of disappointment.