Mr.Petulengro, who was by this time somewhat the worse for liquor, now fell into a passion, swore several oaths, and asking me who had made me a Moses over him and his brethren, told me to return to the encampment by myself.
Incensed at the unworthy return which my well-meant words had received, I forthwith left the house, and having purchased a few articles of provision, I set out for the dingle alone.

It was dark night when I reached it, and descending I saw the glimmer of a fire from the depths of the dingle; my heart beat with fond anticipation of a welcome.

"Isopel Berners is waiting for me," said I, "and the first word that I shall hear from her lips is that she has made up her mind.

We shall go to America, and be so happy together." On reaching the bottom of the dingle, however, I saw seated near the fire, beside which stood the kettle simmering, not Isopel Berners, but a gypsy girl, who told me that Miss Berners when she went away had charged her to keep up the fire, and have the kettle boiling against my arrival.

Startled at these words, I inquired at what hour Isopel had left, and whither she had gone, and was told that she had left the dingle, with her cart, about two hours after I departed; but where she was gone the girl did not know.