committed by his masters wrung his very soul, and sometimes he paid for them out of his own pocket, being moved by the tears of the poor people who had been despoiled.  The gipsies were in despair at this behavior:  it was in contravention, they said, of their statutes and ordinances, which prohibited the admission of compassion into their hearts; because if they had any they must cease to be thieves,—­a thing which was not to be thought of on any account.  Seeing this, Andrew said he would go thieving by himself; for he was nimble enough to run from danger, and did not lack courage to encounter it; so that the prize or the penalty of his thieving would be exclusively his own.

The gipsies tried to dissuade him from this good purpose, telling him that occasions might occur in which he would have need of companions, as well to attack as to defend; and that one person alone could not make any great booty.  But in spite of all they could say, Andrew was determined to be a solitary robber; intending to separate from the gang, and purchase for money something which he might say he had stolen, and thus burden his conscience as little as possible.  Proceeding in this way, in less than a month, he brought more gain to the gang than four of the most accomplished thieves in it.  Preciosa rejoiced not a little to see her tender lover become such a smart and handy thief; but for all that she was sorely afraid of some mischance, and would not have seen him in the hands of justice for all the treasures of Venice; such was the good feeling towards him which she could not help entertaining, in return for his many good offices and presents.  After remaining about a month in the Toledan district, where they reaped a good harvest, the gipsies entered the wealthy region of Estramadura.

Meanwhile Andrew frequently held honourable and loving converse with Preciosa, who was gradually becoming enamoured of his good qualities; while, in like manner, his love for her went on increasing, if that were possible:  such were the virtues, the good sense and beauty of his Preciosa.  Whenever the gipsies engaged in athletic games, he carried off the prize for running and leaping:  he played admirably at skittles and at ball, and pitched the bar with singular strength and dexterity.  In a short while, his fame spread through all Estramadura, and there was no part of it where they did not speak of the smart young gitano Andrew, and his graces and accomplishments.  As his fame extended, so did that of Preciosa’s beauty; and there was no town, village, or hamlet, to which they were not invited, to enliven their patron saints’ days, or other festivities.  The tribe consequently became rich, prosperous, and contented, and the lovers were happy in the mere sight of each other.

It happened one night, when the camp was pitched among some evergreen oaks, a little off the highway, they heard their dogs barking about the middle watch, with unusual vehemence.  Andrew and some others got up to see what was the matter, and found a man dressed in white battling with them, whilst one of them held him by the leg.  “What the devil brought you here, man,” said one of the gipsies, after they had released him, “at such an hour, away from the high road?  Did you come to thieve?  If so, you have come to the right door?”