heed, I passed on, and presently came to a public-house, not far from the water, and I entered the public-house to get a little beer, and perhaps to tell a dukkerin, for I saw a great many people about the door; and, when I entered, I found there was what they calls an inquest being held upon a body in that house, and the jury had just risen to go and look at the body; and being a woman, and having a curiosity, I thought I would go with them, and so I did; and no sooner did I see the body, than I knew it to be my husband’s; it was much swelled and altered, but I knew it partly by the clothes, and partly by a mark on the forehead, and I cried out, ‘It is my husband’s body,’ and I fell down in a fit, and the fit that time, brother, was not a seeming one.”

“Dear me,” said I, “how terrible! but tell me, Ursula, how did your husband come by his death?”

“The bank, overhanging the deep water, gave way under him, brother, and he was drowned; for, like most of our people, he could not swim, or only a little.  The body, after it had been in the water a long time, came up of itself, and was found floating.  Well, brother, when the people of the neighbourhood found that I was the wife of the drowned man, they were very kind to me, and made a subscription for me, with which, after having seen my husband buried, I returned the way I had come, till I met Jasper and his people, and with them I have travelled ever since:  I was very melancholy for a long time, I assure you, brother; for the death of my husband preyed very much upon my mind.”

“His death was certainly a very shocking one, Ursula; but, really, if he had died a natural one, you could scarcely have regretted it, for he appears to have treated you barbarously.”

“Women must bear, brother; and, barring that he kicked and beat me, and drove me out to tell dukkerin when I could scarcely stand, he was not a bad husband.  A man, by gypsy law, brother, is allowed to kick and beat his wife, and to bury her alive, if he thinks proper.  I am a gypsy, and have nothing to say against the law.”

“But what has Mikailia Chikno to say about it?”

“She is a cripple, brother, the only cripple amongst the Roman people:  so she is allowed to do and say as she pleases.  Moreover, her husband does not think fit to kick or beat her, though it is my opinion she would like him all the better if he were occasionally to do so, and threaten to bury her alive; at any rate, she would treat him better, and respect him more.”

“Your sister does not seem to stand much in awe of Jasper Petulengro, Ursula.”

“Let the matters of my sister and Jasper Petulengro alone, brother; you must travel in their company some time before you can understand them; they are a strange two, up to all kind of chaffing:  but two more regular Romans don’t breathe, and I’ll tell you, for your instruction, that there isn’t a better mare-breaker in England than Jasper Petulengro, if you can manage Miss Isopel Berners as well as—­”