was so graceful, so feminine, so mournful in the expression of her
countenance. That she was under restraint was evident; but still she did
not appear to be actuated by fear. Nattée was very kind to her, and the
child did not seem to be more reserved towards her than to others; her
mournful pensive look, was perhaps inherent to her nature. It was not
until long after our first acquaintance that I ever saw a smile upon her
features. Shortly after this little conversation Nattée returned,
walking with all the grace and dignity of a queen. Her husband, or
Melchior, as I shall in future call him, soon joined us, and we sat
down to our repast, which was excellent. It was composed of almost every
thing; sometimes I found myself busy with the wing of a fowl, at another
the leg of a rabbit--then a piece of mutton, or other flesh and fowl,
which I could hardly distinguish. To these were added every sort of
vegetable, among which potatoes predominated, forming a sort of stew,
which an epicure might have praised. I had a long conversation with
Melchior in the evening, and, not to weary the reader, I shall now
proceed to state all that I then and subsequently gathered from him and
others, relative to the parties with whom we were associating.

Melchior would not state who and what he was previous to his having
joined the fraternity of gipsies; that he was not of humble birth, and
that he had, when young, quitted his friends out of love for Nattée, or
from some other causes not to be revealed, he led me to surmise. He had
been many years in company with the tribe, and although, as one received
into it, he did not stand so high in rank and estimation as his wife,
still, from his marriage with Nattée, and his own peculiar
qualifications and dexterity, he was almost as absolute as she was.

Melchior and Nattée were supposed to be the most wealthy of all the
gipsies, and, at the same time, they were the most liberal of their