“I suppose, my young gentleman, that you expect to meet some of your friends or relations at W----? I know not what they will say when they hear where you have spent the night.” “Indeed!” said the youth; “whoever hears my adventures, relation or not, will be delighted with my description; but in sober earnest, I expect to find no one at W---- more my friend than a surly innkeeper, unless it be his dog.” “Why, they surely do not suffer a stripling of your youth and evident quality to wander alone!” cried King Cole, in undisguised surprise. The young traveller made no prompt answer, but bent down as if to pluck a wild-flower which grew by the road-side: after a pause, he said,-- “Nay, Master Cole, you must not set me the example of playing the inquisitor, or you cannot guess how troublesome I shall be. To tell you the truth, I am dying with curiosity to know something more about you than you may be disposed to tell me: you have already confessed that, however boon companions your gypsies may be, it is not among gypsies that you were born and bred.” King Cole laughed: perhaps he was not ill pleased by the curiosity of his guest, nor by the opportunity it afforded him of being his own hero. “My story, sir,” said he, “would be soon told, if you thought it worth the hearing, nor does it contain anything which should prevent my telling it.” “If so,” quoth the youth, “I shall conceive your satisfying my request a still greater favour than those you have already bestowed upon me.” The gypsy relaxed his pace into an indolent saunter, as he commenced:--