etail; "and though my happiness and
pursuits are centred in that world which you despise, yet I confess that
I feel a sensation very like envy at your singular choice; and I would
not dare to ask of my heart whether that choice is not happier, as it is
certainly more philosophical, than mine."

They had now reached a part of the road where the country assumed a
totally different character; the woods and moors were no longer visible,
but a broad and somewhat bleak extent of country lay before them. Here
and there only a few solitary trees broke the uniformity of the wide
fields and scanty hedgerows, and at distant intervals the thin spires
of the scattered churches rose, like the prayers of which they were the
symbols, to mingle themselves with heaven.

The gypsy paused: "I will accompany you," said he, "no farther; your way
lies straight onwards, and you will reach W---- before noon; farewell,
and may God watch over you!"

"Farewell!" said the youth, warmly pressing the hand which was extended
to him. "If we ever meet again, it will probably solve a curious riddle;
namely, whether you are not disgusted with the caravan and I with the
world!"

"The latter is more likely than the former," said the gypsy, for one
stands a much greater chance of being disgusted with others than with
one's self; so changing a little the old lines, I will wish you adieu
after my own fashion, namely, in verse,--

'Go, set thy heart on winged wealth,
Or unto honour's towers aspire;
But give me freedom and my health,
And there's the sum of my desire!'"

CHAPTER IV.

The letter, madam; have you none for me?--The Rendezvous.
Provide surgeons.--Lover's Progress.

Our solitary traveller pursued his way with the light step and gay
spirits of youth and health.

"Turn gypsy, indeed!" he said, talking to himself; "there is something
better in store for me than that. Ay, I have all the world before me
where to choose--not my place of rest. No, many a long year will pass
away ere any place of rest will be my choice! I wonder whether I shall
find the letter at W----; the letter, the last letter I shall ever have
from home but it is no home to me now; and I--I, insulted, reviled,
trampled upon, without even a name--well, well, I will earn a still
fairer one than that of my forefathers. They shall be proud to own
me yet." And with these words the speaker broke off abruptly, with a
swelling chest and a flashing eye; and as, a