and again resumed my former attitude, Mr. Petulengro said,
"I think enough has been done, brother, in the affair of the old woman; I
have, moreover, tried what you are able to do, and find you, as I
thought, less apt with the naked mawleys than the stuffed gloves; nay,
brother, put your hands down, I'm satisfied; blood has been shed, which
is all that can be reasonably expected for an old woman who carried so
much brimstone about her as Mrs. Herne."

So the struggle ended, and we resumed our route, Mr. Petulengro sitting
sideways upon his horse as before, and I driving my little pony-cart, and
when we had proceeded about three miles, we came to a small public-house,
which bore the sign of the "Silent Woman," where we stopped to refresh
our cattle and ourselves; and as we sat over our bread and ale, it came
to pass that Mr. Petulengro asked me various questions, and amongst
others, how I intended to dispose of myself; I told him that I did not
know; whereupon, with considerable frankness, he invited me to his camp,
and told me that if I chose to settle down amongst them, and become a
Rommany chal, I should have his wife's sister Ursula, who was still
unmarried, and occasionally talked of me.

I declined his offer, assigning as a reason the recent death of Mrs.
Herne, of which I was the cause, although innocent. "A pretty life I
should lead with those two," said I, "when they came to know it." "Pooh,"
said Mr. Petulengro, "they will never know it. I shan't blab, and as for
Leonora, that girl has a head on her shoulders." "Unlike the woman in
the sign," said I, "whose head is cut off. You speak nonsense, Mr.
Petulengro; as long as a woman has a head on her shoulders she'll
talk,--but, leaving women out of the case, it is impossible to keep
anything a secret; an old master of mine told me so long ago. I have
moreover another reason for declining your offer. I am at present not
disposed for society. I am become fond of solitude. I wish I could find
some quiet place to which I could retire to hold communion with my own
thoughts, and practise, if I thought fit, either of my trades." "What
trades?" said Mr. Petulengro. "Why, the one which I have lately been
engaged in, or my original one, which I confess I should like better,
that of a kaulomescro." {263} "Ah, I have frequently heard you talk of
making horse-shoes," said Mr. Petulengro; "I, however, never saw you make
one, and no one else that I am aware; I don't b