bring
back the ancient scene to his recollection, but suddenly a man came
hurrying towards the monticle, mounted on a speedy horse, and holding by
the bridle one yet more speedy, and he whispered to me, "Why loiterest
thou here?--knowest thou not all that is to be done before midnight?" and
he flung me the bridle; and I mounted on the horse of great speed, and I
followed the other, who had already galloped off. And as I departed, I
waved my hand to him on the monticle, and I shouted, "Farewell, brother!
the seed came up at last, after a long period!" and then I gave the
speedy horse his way, and leaning over the shoulder of the galloping
horse, I said, "Would that my life had been like his--even like that
man's!"

I now wandered along the heath, till I came to a place where, beside a
thick furze, sat a man, his eyes fixed intently on the red ball of the
setting sun.

"That's not you, Jasper?"

"Indeed, brother!"

"I've not seen you for years."

"How should you, brother?"

"What brings you here?"

"The fight, brother."

"Where are the tents?"

"On the old spot, brother."

"Any news since we parted?"

"Two deaths, brother."

"Who are dead, Jasper?"

"Father and mother, brother."

"Where did they die?"

"Where they were sent, brother."

"And Mrs. Herne?"

"She's alive, brother."

"Where is she now?"

"In Yorkshire, brother."

"What is your opinion of death, Mr. Petulengro?" said I, as I sat down
beside him.

"My opinion of death, brother, is much the same as that in the old song
of Pharaoh, which I have heard my grandam sing--

'Cana marel o manus chivios ande puv,
Ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi.' {239}

When a man dies, he is cast into the earth, and his wife and child sorrow
over him. If he has neither wife nor child, then his father and mother,
I suppose; and if he is quite alone in the world, why, then, he is cast
into the earth, and there is an end of the matter."

"And do you think that is the end of a man?"

"There's an end of him, brother, more's the pity."

"Why do you say so?"

"Life is sweet, brother."

"Do you think so?"

"Think so!--There's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon,
and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the
heath. Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?"

"I would wish to die--"

"You talk like a Gorgio--which is the same as talking like a fool--were
you a Rommany Chal you would talk wi