"Sir Andrew," said Silver Sand, "I wager that you and I by laying our heads together can turn most corners of this crooked way by which we are sent athwart the world. A gipsy is not born with any conscience, and if I had suchlike it must have been gotten from my mother who was not of the blood of Egypt,"
Sir Andrew looked puzzled, as if a remembrance he could not locate pricked him.
But the young man only smiled and whistled a wellknown tune--the Ballad of John Faa.
"The gypsies cam' to Cassillis yett,