loiterest thou here?—­knowest thou not all that is to be done before midnight?’ and he flung me the bridle; and I mounted on the horse of great speed, and I followed the other, who had already galloped off.  And as I departed, I waved my hand to him on the monticle, and I shouted, ’Farewell, brother! the seed came up at last, after a long period!’ and then I gave the speedy horse his way, and leaning over the shoulder of the galloping horse, I said, ’Would that my life had been like his—­even like that man’s!’

I now wandered along the heath, till I came to a place where, beside a thick furze, sat a man, his eyes fixed intently on the red ball of the setting sun.

‘That’s not you, Jasper?’

‘Indeed, brother!’

‘I’ve not seen you for years.’

‘How should you, brother?’

‘What brings you here?’

‘The fight, brother.’

‘Where are the tents?’

‘On the old spot, brother.’

‘Any news since we parted?’

‘Two deaths, brother.’

‘Who are dead, Jasper?’

‘Father and mother, brother.’

‘Where did they die?’

‘Where they were sent, brother.’

‘And Mrs. Herne?’

‘She’s alive, brother.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘In Yorkshire, brother.’

‘What is your opinion of death, Mr. Petulengro?’ said I, as I sat down beside him.

’My opinion of death, brother, is much the same as that in the old song of Pharaoh, which I have heard my grandam sing—­

   Cana marel o manus chivios ande puv,
   Ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi.

When a man dies, he is cast into the earth, and his wife and child sorrow over him.  If he has neither wife nor child, then his father and mother, I suppose; and if he is quite alone in the world, why, then, he is cast into the earth, and there is an end of the matter.’

{picture:’There’s the wind on the heath, brother; if I could only feel that, I would gladly live for ever.’:  page171.jpg}

‘And do you think that is the end of a man?’

‘There’s an end of him, brother, more’s the pity.’

‘Why do you say so?’

‘Life is sweet, brother.’

‘Do you think so?’

’Think so!—­There’s night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there’s likewise a wind on the heath.  Life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?’

‘I would wish to die—­’

’You talk like a gorgio—­which is the same as talking like a fool—­were you a Rommany Chal you would talk wiser.  Wish to die, indeed!—­A Rommany Chal would wish to live for ever!’

‘In sickness, Jasper?’

‘There’s the sun and stars, brother.’

‘In blindness, Jasper?’

’There’s the wind on the heath, brother; if I could only feel that, I would gladly live for ever.  Dosta, we’ll now go to the tents and put on the gloves; and I’ll try to make you feel what a sweet thing it is to be alive, brother!’