As he walked on, he came to a group of trees in the middle of the common.

He paused for a moment, and looked back.

The gipsy's van was moving away, and in the doorway stood the girl, her hand over her eyes, looking towards him.

He could see the raw colour of her scarf.

"She'll make wild trouble," he said to himself.
As Gaston thought of this event, he moved his horse slowly towards a combe, and looked out over a noble expanse--valley, field, stream, and church-spire.