For Bilk had for some days past secretly hugged the idea of presenting himself to the oracle of these wise ones and having his fortune told.

He had in fact gone so far as to make a secret observation of their quarters one afternoon, and had resolved to devote the next half-holiday to the particular pursuit of knowledge they offered, when, lo! cruel fate snatched the cup from his lips and swept the promised fruit from his reach.

In other words, the gipsies had gone, and, like his great namesake, Alexander, Magnus mourned.
Among those who noticed his dejection and guessed the cause of it were two of his particular persecutors.

Morgan and Dell had for some months been suffering affliction for lack of any notion how to get a rise out of their victim.

But they now suddenly cheered up, as they felt the force of a mighty idea moving them once more to action.
"Old chap," said Morgan, "I've got it at last!" "What have you got ?" asked "the old chap"; "your back tooth, or measles, or what ?" "I've got a dodge for scoring off the Lamp-post." "Have you, though?
You are a clever chap, I say! What is it ?" What it was, Morgan disclosed in such a very low whisper to his ally that the reader will have to guess.