"Silence," said I.
The little girl overheard him, and looking at him, put her finger across
her mouth, looking to where Num and Jumbo were sitting. I felt an
interest for this child before I had been an hour in her company; she
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. Nattee 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, Nattee 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
everything; 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 Nattee, 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 Nattee, and his own peculiar
qualifications and dexterity, he was almost as absolute as she was.
Melchior and Nattee were supposed to be the most wealthy of all the
gipsies, and, at the same time, they were the most liberal of their
wealth. Melchior, it appeared, gained money in three different
characters; as a quack doctor, the character in which we first saw him;
secondly, as a juggler, in which art he was most expert; and, thirdly,
as a fortune-teller, and _wise man_.
Nattee, as I before mentioned, was of very high rank, or caste, in her
tribe. At her first espousal of Melchior she lost much of her
influence, as it was considered a degradation; but she was then very
young, and must have been most beautiful. The talents of Melchior, and
her own spirit, however, soon enabled her to regain, and even add still
more to, her power and consideration among the tribe; and it was
incredible to what extent, with the means which she possessed, this
power was augmented.
Melchior had no children by his marriage, and, as far as I could judge
from the few words which would escape from the lips of Nattee, she did
not wish for any, as the race would not be considered pure. The
subdivision of the tribe which followed Nattee consisted of about forty
men, women, and children. These were ruled by her during the absence of
her husband, who alternately assumed different characters, as suited his
purpose; but in whatever town Melchior might happen to be, Nattee and
her tribe were never far off, and always encamped within communication.
I ventured to question Melchior about the little Fleta; and he stated
that she was the child of a soldier's wife, who had been brought to bed,
and died a few hours afterwards; that, at the time, she was on her way
to join her husband, and had been taken ill on the road--had been
assisted by Nattee and her companions, as far as they were able--had
been buried by them, and that the child had been reared in the camp.
In time, the little girl became very intimate, and very partial to me.
I questioned her as to her birth, telling her what Melchior had stated:
for a long while she would not answer; the poor child had learned
caution even at that early age; but after we were more intimate, she
said, that which Melchior had stated was _not true_. She could
recollect very well living in a great house, with everything very fine
about her; but still it appeared as if it were a dream. She recollected
two white ponies--and a lady who was her mamma--and a mulberry-tree,
where she stained her frock; sometimes other things came to her memory,
and then she forgot them again. From this it was evident that she had
been stolen, and was probably of good parentage; certainly, if elegance
and symmetry of person and form could prove blood, it never was more
marked than in this interesting child. Her abode with the gipsies, and
their peculiar mode of life and manners, had rendered her astonishingly
precocious in intellect; but of education she had none, except what was
instilled into her by Melchior whom she always accompanied when he
assumed his character as a juggler. She then danced on the slack wire,
at the same time performing several feats in balancing, throwing of
oranges, etcetera. When Melchior was under other disguises, she
remained in the camp with Nattee.
Of Num, or Philotas, as Melchior thought proper to call him, I have
already spoken. He was a half-witted idiot, picked up in one of
Melchior's excursions; and as he stated to me, so did it prove to be the
fact, that when on the stage, and questioned as a fool, his natural
folly, and idiotical vacancy of countenance, were applauded by the
spectators as admirably assumed. Even at the alehouses and taverns
where we stopped, everyone imagined that all his folly was pretence, and
looked upon him as a very clever fellow. There never was, perhaps, such
a lachrymose countenance as this poor lad's; and this added still more
to the mirth of others, being also considered as put on for the
occasion. Stephen Kemble played Falstaff without stuffing--Num played
the fool without any effort or preparation. Jumbo was also "picked up;"
this was not done by Melchior, who stated, that anybody might have him
who claimed him; he tumbled with the fool upon the stage, and he also
ate pudding to amuse the spectators--the only part of the performance
which was suited to Jumbo's taste, for he was a terrible little glutton,
and never lost any opportunity of eating, as well as of sleeping.
And now, having described all our new companions, I must narrate what
passed between Melchior and me, the day after our joining the camp. He
first ran through his various professions, pointing out to me that as
juggler he required a confederate, in which capacity I might be very
useful, as he would soon instruct me in all his tricks. As a quack
doctor he wanted the services of both Tim and myself in mixing up,
making pills, etcetera, and also in assisting him in persuading the
public of his great skill. As a fortune-teller, I should also be of
great service, as he would explain to me hereafter. In short, he wanted
a person of good personal appearance and education, in whom he might
confide in every way. As to Tim, he might be made useful, if he chose,
in various ways; amongst others, he wished him to learn tumbling and
playing the fool, when, at times, the fool was required to give a shrewd
answer on any point on which he would wish the public to be made
acquainted. I agreed to my own part of the performance, and then had
some conversation with Timothy, who immediately consented to do his best
in what was allotted as his share. Thus was the matter quickly
arranged, Melchior observing, that he had said nothing about
remuneration, as I should find that trusting to him was far preferable
to stipulated wages.