occasionally interrupted by parish beadles and constables, who asked her whither she was travelling, to whom she gave various answers.  Presently methought that, as she was passing by a farm-yard, two fierce and savage dogs flew at her; I was in great trouble, I remember, and wished to assist her, but could not, for though I seemed to see her, I was still at a distance:  and now it appeared that she had escaped from the dogs, and was proceeding with her cart along a gravelly path which traversed a wild moor; I could hear the wheels grating amidst sand and gravel.  The next moment I was awake, and found myself sitting up in my tent; there was a glimmer of light through the canvas caused by the fire; a feeling of dread came over me, which was perhaps natural, on starting suddenly from one’s sleep in that wild lone place; I half imagined that some one was nigh the tent; the idea made me rather uncomfortable, and to dissipate it I lifted up the canvas of the door and peeped out, and, lo!  I had an indistinct view of a tall figure standing by the tent.  “Who is that?” said I, whilst I felt my blood rush to my heart.  “It is I,” said the voice of Isopel Berners; “you little expected me, I dare say; well, sleep on, I do not wish to disturb you.”  “But I was expecting you,” said I, recovering myself, “as you may see by the fire and the kettle.  I will be with you in a moment.”

Putting on in haste the articles of dress which I had flung off, I came out of the tent, and addressing myself to Isopel, who was standing beside her cart, I said—­“Just as I was about to retire to rest I thought it possible that you might come to-night, and got everything in readiness for you.  Now, sit down by the fire whilst I lead the donkey and cart to the place where you stay; I will unharness the animal, and presently come and join you.”  “I need not trouble you,” said Isopel; “I will go myself and see after my things.”  “We will go together,” said I, “and then return and have some tea.”  Isopel made no objection, and in about half-an-hour we had arranged everything at her quarters.  I then hastened and prepared tea.  Presently Isopel rejoined me, bringing her stool; she had divested herself of her bonnet, and her hair fell over her shoulders; she sat down, and I poured out the beverage, handing her a cup.  “Have you made a long journey to-night?” said I.  “A very long one,” replied Belle, “I have come nearly twenty miles since six o’clock.”  “I believe I heard you coming in my sleep,” said I; “did the dogs above bark at you?” “Yes,” said Isopel, “very violently; did you think of me in your sleep?” “No,” said I, “I was thinking of Ursula and something she had told me.”  “When and where was that?” said Isopel.  “Yesterday evening,” said I, “beneath the dingle hedge.”  “Then you were talking with her beneath the hedge?” “I was,” said I, “but only upon gypsy matters.  Do you know, Belle, that she has just been married to Sylvester, so you need not think that she and I . . .”  “She