cards were cheating him and his companion; a quarrel ensued, which
terminated in a fight between Mr. Petulengro and one of the
jockeys, which lasted some time, and in which Mr. Petulengro,
though he eventually came off victor, was considerably beaten. His
bruises, in conjunction with his pecuniary loss, which amounted to
about seven pounds, were the cause of his being much out of humour;
before night, however, he had returned to his usual philosophic
frame of mind, and, coming up to me as I was walking about,
apologized for his behaviour on the preceding day, and assured me
that he was determined, from that time forward, never to quarrel
with a friend for giving him good advice.

Two more days passed, and still Isopel Berners did not return.
Gloomy thoughts and forebodings filled my mind. During the day I
wandered about the neighbouring roads in the hopes of catching an
early glimpse of her and her returning vehicle; and at night lay
awake, tossing about on my hard couch, listening to the rustle of
every leaf, and occasionally thinking that I heard the sound of her
wheels upon the distant road. Once at midnight, just as I was
about to fall into unconsciousness, I suddenly started up, for I
was convinced that I heard the sound of wheels. I listened most
anxiously, and the sound of wheels striking against stones was
certainly plain enough. "She comes at last," thought I, and for a
few moments I felt as if a mountain had been removed from my
breast;--"here she comes at last, now, how shall I receive her?
Oh," thought I, "I will receive her rather coolly, just as if I was
not particularly anxious about her--that's the way to manage these
women." The next moment the sound became very loud, rather too
loud, I thought, to proceed from her wheels, and then by degrees
became fainter. Rushing out of my tent, I hurried up the path to