The fellow glanced fiercely and
suspiciously around, and said something to the man of the tent in a harsh
and rapid voice. A short and hurried conversation ensued in the strange
tongue. I could not take my eyes off this new comer. Oh, that
half-jockey half-bruiser countenance, I never forgot it! More than
fifteen years afterwards I found myself amidst a crowd before Newgate; a
gallows was erected, and beneath it stood a criminal, a notorious
malefactor. I recognised him at once; the horseman of the lane is now
beneath the fatal tree, but nothing altered; still the same man; jerking
his head to the right and left with the same fierce under-glance, just as
if the affairs of this world had the same kind of interest to the last;
grey coat of Newmarket cut, plush waistcoat, corduroys, and boots,
nothing altered; but the head, alas! is bare and so is the neck. Oh,
crime and virtue, virtue and crime!--it was old John Newton I think, who,
when he saw a man going to be hanged, said: 'There goes John Newton, but
for the grace of God!'
* * * * *
After much feasting, drinking, and yelling, in the Gypsy house, the
bridal train sallied forth--a frantic spectacle. First of all marched a
villainous jockey-looking fellow, holding in his hands, uplifted, a long
pole, at the top of which fluttered in the morning air a snow-white
cambric handkerchief, emblem of the bride's purity. Then came the
betrothed pair, followed by their nearest friends; then a rabble rout of
Gypsies, screaming and shouting, and discharging guns and pistols, till
all around rang with the din, and the village dogs barked.
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