He then walked on rapidly, regretting, perhaps, a little, that he had not asked Manners the exact position of the gipsy encampment, as he had become warm in climbing the hill, and the wind that blew over the common felt chill, and made a slight shudder pass over him. The little mound, however, was his resource, as it had been that of his friend when engaged on a similar errand; and, walking on to the spot where it stood, he climbed the side, and cast his eyes over the wide and broken flat grounds below him. In the direction of the sand-pit, he almost immediately beheld a light; and the next instant a fine mellow voice singing showed him that the gipsies were not only there but awake, though he was too far off to catch any thing but a few detached notes of a merry air rising up from below. Turning his steps in that direction, he had proceeded about a quarter of the way from the mound to the encampment, when an old white horse, which had lain down after feeding, started up at his approach, and hobbled away with its clogged feet, as fast as it could, uttering, at the same time, one or two short neighs, as if perfectly aware that its masters were of that class which does not like to be interrupted without warning. The light of the fire, now rising up above the abrupt edge of the sand-pit, and showing the dark outline of the bank, with the few black bushes cutting sharp upon the glare, pointed out to De Vaux the exact spot where the gipsies were to be found, when suddenly a human figure was seen rising rapidly across the light; and a minute or two after the form of a stout youth planted itself directly in the way of the wanderer. "Who do you want, and what?" demanded the young man, eyeing him from head to foot with a look of no particular satisfaction. De Vaux, however, answered him at once in such a manner as to put a stop to any farther enquiries, saying, "I want to see a person called Pharold, who is with you here. Can you bring me to him?" "No," replied the youth, "but I can bring him to you;" and he uttered a low, long whistle, succeeded by another, which was quickly followed by the appearance of Pharold himself, who, as he approached, took care to examine his visiter as accurately as the moonlight would permit. When he came near, without addressing De Vaux, or waiting to hear his errand, he turned to the young man, saying, "You may return, William;" and seeing a slight inclination to linger, he added, in a more authoritative tone, "Return!" The youth obeyed; and then turning to his visiter, the gipsy said, "You are Captain de Vaux, I suppose--nay, I see you are." "You are right," replied De Vaux; "though I am not aware that you ever saw me before; at least, I am certain that I never saw you."