“My worthy friend,” said Ivan, addressing their host, “time urges us to pursue our journey, and with many thanks for your hospitality, we must bid you farewell.”
“Well, Sirs,” he replied, “since it is your wish to depart from us, I must needs yield, though I would fain have persuaded you to remain longer among us, to have seen more of the independent wild life we lead; yet, ere you go, there is one here, who would again assure you of her gratitude for your timely assistance in her rescue; and, for my part, although it may seem presumptuous in me to make the offer, yet should you ever be in difficulty or danger, let me know of it, and I may be perhaps able to afford you more aid, than other friends in a higher station may be willing to effect.”
Her father summoned Azila, when the maiden advanced with timid and bashful steps, followed at a short distance by the aged Hagar, who tottered in her walk as she came forward.
Already had the strangers paid their adieus to the Gipsy’s wife, when turning round they perceived Azila standing near them, with her arms crossed on her bosom, and her eyes cast on the ground.
“Adieu, noble Sirs,” she exclaimed in faltering tones, while tears glistened in her eyes, which shone more brightly than before, undimmed by those eloquent vouchers of her feelings, “the remembrance of your gallant bearing will ever dwell in the mind of the humble Gipsy girl, and though she may never be able to shew any other mark of her gratitude, receive all she has to give—her deep and sincere thanks.”
She bowed her head to conceal her embarrassment and agitation, and the old Sibyl then advancing, thus addressed the strangers: “May the mighty spirit who watches over the people of the Zingani protect you from all dangers, for well do I foresee that you will require his all potent aid. The strong wind bloweth on a sudden, and none can tell whence it ariseth; so will dangers come thickly around you, nor can you foresee from what quarters they will spring, but like the bold mariner who steers his storm-driven bark amid rocks and quicksands to a safe port, be prepared to meet and escape them, and you have nought to fear. And thou, noble youth with the dark eye,” she said, turning towards Ivan, “the cold suns of Russia shone not upon thy birth. Thou earnest from a far distant land, and thither thou must return, where a high and glorious destiny awaits thee; the way will be stormy and dangerous, but hesitate not to follow it; for last night did I read thy fate in the starry firmament above, and it leads to what thou most desirest. And thou, gallant Sir,” she said, addressing Thaddeus, “with the joyous eye, and light laugh, the stars smiled when I read thy destiny, and it will be happy. Fare ye well! ye may never see the aged Hagar more, but remember her words. Farewell!”
While the Sibyl was uttering this prophetical rhapsody, with all the fervour of action and tone, which her supposed inspiration gave her, the tribe stood round in attentive and respectful silence; and even the young men were so struck by her impressive manner, that they could not resist paying more attention to her words than, perhaps, their judgment would have allowed them to bestow at other times.
“Thanks for your predictions, good mother, and may they prove true,” exclaimed Thaddeus, who was always ready to give a light turn to anything which appeared more serious than suited his humour; “and now, our worthy host, we must in truth delay no longer, and bid our last adieu.”
“Not yet, by your leave, Sirs,” answered the Gipsy, “I will, at least, shew you the road which will lead you more directly, and in less time across the forest; which, without my aid, you would scarcely find.”
“The longer we keep your company, the better shall we be pleased,” replied Thaddeus; “and therefore we again most willingly accept of your offer.”