The Disowned | Page 4

here and sup; bid them
bring their caldron to eke out ours: I'll find the lush."

With these words (which Mim, a short, swarthy member of the gang,
with a countenance too astute to be pleasing, instantly started forth to
obey) the gypsy stretched himself at full length by the youth's side, and
began reminding him, with some jocularity and at some length, of his
promise to drink to their better acquaintance.
Something there was in the scene, the fire, the caldron, the intent figure
and withered countenance of the old woman, the grouping of the other
forms, the rude but not unpicturesque tent, the dark still woods on
either side, with the deep and cloudless skies above, as the stars broke
forth one by one upon the silent air, which (to use the orthodox phrase
of the novelist) would not have been wholly unworthy the bold pencil
of Salvator himself.
The youth eyed, with that involuntary respect which personal
advantages always command, the large yet symmetrical proportions of
his wild companion; nor was the face which belonged to that frame
much less deserving of attention. Though not handsome, it was both
shrewd and prepossessing in its expression; the forehead was
prominent, the brows overhung the eyes, which were large, dark, and,
unlike those of the tribe in general, rather calm than brilliant; the
complexion, though sun-burnt, was not swarthy, and the face was
carefully and cleanly shaved, so as to give all due advantage of contrast
to the brown luxuriant locks which fell rather in flakes than curls, on
either side of the healthful and manly cheeks. In age, he was about
thirty-five, and, though his air and mien were assuredly not lofty nor
aristocratic, yet they were strikingly above the bearing of his vagabond
companions: those companions were in all respects of the ordinary race
of gypsies; the cunning and flashing eye, the raven locks, the dazzling
teeth, the bronzed colour, and the low, slight, active form, were as
strongly their distinguishing characteristics as the tokens of all their
tribe.
But to these, the appearance of the youth presented a striking and
beautiful contrast.
He had only just passed the stage of boyhood, perhaps he might have
seen eighteen summers, probably not so many. He had, in imitation of

his companion, and perhaps from mistaken courtesy to his new society,
doffed his hat; and the attitude which he had chosen fully developed the
noble and intellectual turn of his head and throat. His hair, as yet
preserved from the disfiguring fashions of the day, was of a deep
auburn, which was rapidly becoming of a more chestnut hue, and
curled in short close curls from the nape of the neck to the
commencement of a forehead singularly white and high. His brows
finely and lightly pencilled, and his long lashes of the darkest dye, gave
a deeper and perhaps softer shade than they otherwise would have worn
to eyes quick and observant in their expression and of a light hazel in
their colour. His cheek was very fair, and the red light of the fire cast an
artificial tint of increased glow upon a complexion that had naturally
rather bloom than colour; while a dark riding frock set off in their full
beauty the fine outline of his chest and the slender symmetry of his
frame.
But it was neither his features nor his form, eminently handsome as
they were, which gave the principal charm to the young stranger's
appearance: it was the strikingly bold, buoyant, frank, and almost
joyous expression which presided over all. There seemed to dwell the
first glow and life of youth, undimmed by a single fear and unbaffled in
a single hope. There were the elastic spring, the inexhaustible wealth of
energies which defied in their exulting pride the heaviness of sorrow
and the harassments of time. It was a face that, while it filled you with
some melancholy foreboding of the changes and chances which must,
in the inevitable course of fate, cloud the openness of the unwrinkled
brow, and soberize the fire of the daring and restless eye, instilled also
within you some assurance of triumph, and some omen of success,--a
vague but powerful sympathy with the adventurous and cheerful spirit
which appeared literally to speak in its expression. It was a face you
might imagine in one born under a prosperous star; and you felt, as you
gazed, a confidence in that bright countenance, which, like the shield of
the British Prince, [Prince Arthur.--See "The Faerie Queene."] seemed
possessed with a spell to charm into impotence the evil spirits who
menaced its possessor.
"Well, sir," said his friend, the gypsy, who had in his turn been

surveying with admiration the sinewy and agile frame of his young
guest, "well, sir, how fares your