"Whad ztallion?" asked the imperturbable gypsy, with an expression of
child-like innocence.

"I will not even take time to tell you, but if you do not take me to him
this instant there will be a dead gypsy in these woods," said the quack
fiercely.

"Ze zdranger jesz!" the gypsy answered blandly, showing his teeth and
spreading out the palms of his hands.

The quack reached into his bosom, drew forth a pistol, pointed it at the
right eye of the gypsy, and said: "Look into the mouth of that and tell
me whether you see a bullet lying in its throat!"

"I zink zat ze señor an' heez piztol are boz lying in zeir zroats," he
answered with easy irony.

"Good! But I am not here to match wits with you. I want that horse, and
lie or no lie, I will have it. Take me to it, or I swear I will blow out
your brains as sure as they are made of bacon and baby flesh!"

The gypsy vouchsafed no reply, but turned on his heel and led the way
into the forest.

After a walk of a hundred yards or more they came to a booth of boughs,
through the loose sides of which could be seen a black stallion.

"Lead him out," said the doctor imperatively; and the gypsy obeyed.

The magnificent animal came forth snorting, pawing the ground and