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 d /APPLIED IM/IGE Inc 
 
 ;^r" 1653 East Mam Street 
 
 ~— Rociieste;, New York 14609 USA 
 
 !s= (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone 
 
 SSS (716) 2S8 - b989 - Fax 
 
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;,J- 
 
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 :31Va i 
 
 I 
 
 It ! 
 
 A1 
 
/ 
 
 THETYPSY QUEEN'S VO^ 
 
 p-c 
 
 og.s 
 
 -/ • 
 
 BY 
 
 Mrs. may AGNES FLEMING 
 
 AUTHOR OF "THE DARK SECRET," "THE QUFEN OF THE ISLE," "THE 
 
 HEIRESS OF CASTLE CLIFF," " MAGDALEN'S VOW," "THE 
 
 MIDNIGHT QUEEN," "THE RIVAL BROTHERS," ETC- 
 
 COFYBIGHT, 1875, BY BEADLE & ADAMS. 
 
 1«:W YORK 
 
 HURST & COMPANY 
 
 rUBLISHERS 
 
j<lr^l 
 
 ML i: 
 
 */. -^ aV "— t. 
 
 :31Va I 
 
 tk 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTBR PACK 
 
 1. Night and Storm 5 
 
 II. Mr. Toosypegs y 
 
 III. The Lovers 17 
 
 IV. The Gypsy's Vow 26 
 
 V. Mother and Son 30 
 
 VI. The Child-Wife 37 
 
 VII. The Mother's Despair 49 
 
 VIII. Mr. Toosypegs " Turns up " Again 55 
 
 IX. The Secret Revealed 63 
 
 X. The Voice of Coming Doom 72 
 
 XI. Little Erminie 80 
 
 XII. Woman's Hate 91 
 
 XIII. Retribution 98 
 
 XIV. The New Home 105 
 
 XV. "After Many Days." 121 
 
 XVI. Master Ranty 132 
 
 XVII. Our Erminie 141 
 
 XVIII. Pet's Peril 150 
 
 XIX. Playing with Edged Tools 161 
 
 XX. Firefly Goes to School ';?6 
 
 XXI. Pet Begins her Education i,,7 
 
 XXII. Pet Finishes her Education 206 
 
 XXin. The Adopted Daughter 215 
 
 s 
 
^tkikti^ ^ 
 
 ^ Ail bA.1. 
 
 :3iva 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 OHAVTBR 
 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 XXXV, 
 
 XXXVI 
 
 XXXVII 
 
 XXXVIII, 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 XL. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAoa 
 
 Pet Gives her Tutor a Lesson 224 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs in Distress 238 
 
 Pet " Respectfully Declines." 244 
 
 Greek meets Greek 'S' 
 
 An Unlooked-for Lover 27O 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs in Distress Again 280 
 
 Miss Lawless in Difficulties ^°" 
 
 The Outlaw's Wife =9^ 
 
 The Outlaw 3°? 
 
 Home from Sea 3'9 
 
 Face to Face 33^ 
 
 Father and Son 34^ 
 
 The Outlaw's Story 35° 
 
 The Attack 3^1 
 
 Lady Maud 373 
 
 The Dawn of a Brighter Day 3^4 
 
 Chiefly Matrimonial 39* 
 
 t W wiw w WiBife 
 
PAoa 
 
 . 224 
 
 . 238 
 
 ■ 244 
 
 ■ 251 
 
 . 270 
 . 280 
 . 286 
 . 296 
 
 . 307 
 
 • 319 
 
 • 332 
 . 34» 
 
 • 350 
 . 361 
 
 • 373 
 . 384 
 
 • 39« 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 NIGHT AND STORM. 
 
 *• The night grows wondrous dark ; deep-swelling gusts 
 And sultry stillness take the rule by turn, 
 While o'er our heads the black and heavy clouds 
 Roll slowly on. This surely bodes a storm." 
 
 — Baillie. 
 
 Overhead, the storm-clouds were scudding wildly across 
 the sky, until all above was one dense pall of impenetrable 
 gloom. A chill, penetrating rain was falling, and the wind 
 came sweeping in long, fitful gusts — piercingly cold ; for it 
 was a night in March. 
 
 It was the north road to London. A thick, yellow fog, 
 that had been rising all day from the bosom of the Thames, 
 wrapped the great city in a blackness that might almost be 
 felt ; and its innumerable lights were shrouded in the deep 
 gloom. Yet the solitary figure, flitting through the pelting 
 rain and bleak wind, strained her eyes as she fled along, as 
 though, despite the more than Egyptian darkness, she would 
 force, by her fierce, steady glare, the obscure lights of the 
 city to show themselves. 
 
 The night lingered and lingered, the gloom deepened and 
 deepened, the rain plash. . dismally ; the wind blew in 
 moaning, lamentable gusts, penetrating through the thick 
 mantle she held closely around her. And still the woman 
 
 tm^^K^^^^^flniy^'-^'f:-' '• 
 

 •aiva l! 
 
 6 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 fled on, stopping neither for wind, nor rain, nor storm— 
 unheeilmg. unfeeling them all— keeping her fierce, de- 
 vouring gaze fixed, with a look that might have pierced 
 the very heavens, on the still far-distant city. 
 
 There was no one on the road but herself. The lateness 
 of the hour— for it was almost midnight— and the increasing 
 storm, kept pedestrians within doors that cheerless March 
 night. Now and then she would pass cottages in which 
 lights were still glaring, but most of the houses were wrapped 
 in silence and darkness. 
 
 And still on, through night, and storm, and gloom, fled 
 the w.inderer. with the pitiless rain beating in her face~ 
 the chill blasts fluttering her thin-worn garments and long, 
 wild, black hair. Still on, pausing not, resting not, never 
 removing her steadfast gaze from the distant city— like a 
 lost soul hurrying to its doom. 
 
 Suddenly, above the \/ailing of the wind and plashing of 
 the rain, arose the thunder of horses' hoofs and the crash of 
 approaching carriage wheels. Rapidly they came on, and 
 the woman paused for a moment and leaned again a cottage 
 porch, as if waiting until it should pass. 
 
 A bright light was still burning in the window, and it fell 
 on the lonely wayfarer as she stood, breathing hard and 
 waitmg, with burning, feverish impatience, for the carriage 
 to pass. It displayed the form of a woman of forty, or 
 thereabouts, with a tall, towering, commanding figure, gaunt 
 and bony. Her complexion was dark ; its naturally swarthy 
 hue having been tanned by sun and wind to a dark-brown. 
 The features were strong, stern, and prominent, yet you 
 could see at a glance that the face had once been a hand- 
 some one. Now, however— thin, haggard, and fleshless, 
 with the high, prominent cheek-bones ; the gloomy, over- 
 hanging brows ; the stern, set, unyielding mouth ; the rigid, 
 corrugated brow ; the fierce, devouring, maniac, black eyes 
 —it looked positively hideous. Such eyes!— such burning, 
 blazing orbs of fire, never was seen in human head before i 
 They glowed like two live coals in a bleached skull. There 
 was utter misery, there was despair unspeakable, mingled 
 with fierce determination, in those lurid, flaming eyes. And 
 that dark, stern, terrific face was stamped with the unmis- 
 takable impress of a despised, degraded race. The woman 
 
 ■^mt*m«f!ii'-Lh 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS. ^ 
 
 was a gipsy. It needed not her peculiar dress, the costume 
 of her tribe, to tell this, though that was significant enough 
 Her thick, coarse, jet-black hair, streaked with threads of 
 gray, was pusl.ed impatiently off her face; and her only 
 head-covering was a handkerchief of crimson and black silk 
 knotted under her chin. A cloak, of coarse, red woolen 
 stuff, covered her shoulders, and a dress of the same ma- 
 terial, but in color blue, reached hardly to her ankles. The 
 brilliant head-dress, and unique, fiery costume, suited well 
 the dark, fierce, passionate face of the wearer. 
 
 For an instant she paused, as if to let the carriage pass : 
 then, as if even the delay of an instant was maddening, she 
 started wildly up, and keeping her hungry, devouring gize 
 fixed on the vision of the still unseen city, she sped on more 
 rapidly than before. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MR. TOOSYPEGS. 
 
 " J^e bears him like a portly gentleman ; 
 And, to say truth, Vernon brags of him 
 To be a virtuous and well-governed youth." 
 
 — Shak speare. 
 
 The vehicle that the gipsy had heard approaching was a 
 light wagon drawn by two swift horses. It had two seats 
 capable of holding four persons, though the front seat alone 
 was now occupied. 
 
 The first of these (for his age claims the precedence) was 
 a short, stout, burly, thickset, little man, buttoned up in a 
 huge great-coat, suffering under a severe eruption of capes 
 and pockets An immense fur cap, that, by its antediluvian 
 looks, might have been worn by Noah's grandfather, adorned 
 his head, and was pulled so far down on his face that noth- 
 ing was visible but a round, respectable- looking bottle-nose 
 and a pair of small, twinkling gray eyes. This individual, who 
 ^salso the driver, rejoiced in the cognomen of Mr. Bill 
 Harkins, and made it his business to takp b^la^pH iva,.foro,c. *^ 
 London (either by land or water), when arriving tooFai^elfor 
 
;t.L''i)il 
 
 T-T 
 
 r-w I. 
 
 :31Va 
 
 8 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 m'i 
 
 the regular conveyances. On the present occasion his sole 
 freight consisted of a young gentleman with a brilliant-hued 
 carpet-bag, glowing with straw-colored roses and dark-blue 
 lilies, rising from a background resembling London smoke. 
 The young gentleman was a very remarkable young gentle- 
 man indeed. He was exceedingly tall and thin, with legs 
 like a couple of pipe-stems, and a neck so long and slender 
 that it reminded you of a gander's, and made you tremble for 
 the safety of the head balanced on such a frail support. His 
 hair and complexion were both of that indefinite color 
 known to the initiated as " whity brown " — the latter being 
 profusely sprinkled with large yellow freckles, and the 
 former as straight and sleek as bear's grease could make it. 
 For the rest, he was characterized by nothing in particular, 
 but for being the possessor of a pair of large, pale-blue eyes, 
 not remarkable for either brilliancy or expression, and for 
 wearing the meekest possible expression, of countenance. 
 He might have been eighteen years old, as far as years 
 went ; but his worldly wisdom was by no means equal to 
 his years. 
 
 '* By jingo 1 that 'ere was a blast ! " said Mr. Harkins, 
 bending his head as a gale swept shrieking by. 
 
 "Yes, it (/oes blow, but / don't mind it — I'm very much 
 obliged to you," said the pale young man, with the white 
 hair and freckles, holding his carpet-bag in his arms, as if it 
 were a baby. 
 
 " Who said you did ? " growled Bill Harkins. " You'll be 
 safe in Lunnon in half an 'our, while I'll be a-drivin' back 
 through this 'ere win' and rain, getting wetted right through. 
 If you don't mind it, /does, Mr. Toosypegs." 
 
 " Mr. Harkins," said Mr. Toosypegs, humbly, " I'm very 
 sorry to put you to so much trouble, I'm sure, but if two 
 extra crowns — " 
 
 " Mr. Toosypegs," interrupted Mr. Harkins, with a sudden 
 burst of feeling, " give us yer hand ; yer a trump. It's easy 
 to be perceived, them as is gentlemen from them as isn't. 
 You're one o' the right sort ; oughter to be a lord, by jingo ! 
 Get up, hold lazybones," said Mr. Harkins/ touching the 
 near-wheeler daintily with his whip. 
 
 "Mr. Harkins, it's very good of you to say so, and I'm 
 very much obliged to you, I'm sure," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 
 Mmmtmrni; 
 
a i 
 
 1 his sole 
 iant-hued 
 dark-blue 
 n smoke. 
 \g gentle- 
 with legs 
 d slender 
 emble for 
 •ort. His 
 lite color 
 :ter being 
 and the 
 I make it. 
 )articular, 
 blue eyes, 
 1, and for 
 ntenance. 
 as years 
 equal to 
 
 Harkins, 
 
 ery much 
 the white 
 »s, as if it 
 
 You'll be 
 vin' back 
 : through. 
 
 ■ I'm very 
 »ut if two 
 
 a sudden 
 It's easy 
 1 as isn't, 
 by jingo ! 
 ching the 
 
 , and I'm 
 oosypegs, 
 
 MR. TOOSYPEGS. g 
 
 gratefully ; " but, at the same time, if you'll please to recollect 
 1 m an American, and consequently couldn't be a lord' 
 There aren't any lords over in America, Mr. Harkins* 
 though if there was, I dare say I would be one. It's real 
 kind of you to wish it, though, and I'm much obliged to 
 you, added Mr. Toosypegs, with emotion. 
 
 " Hamerica must be a hodd sorter place," said Mr. Har- 
 kins, reflectively. " I've heern tell that your king—" 
 
 "He isn't a king, Mr. Harkins; he's only the President," 
 broke in Mr. Toosypegs, with energy. 
 
 '' Well, President, then," said Mr. Harkins, adopting the 
 amendment with a look of disgust. " I've heern they call 
 him ' mister,' jest like hany bother man." 
 
 -So they do; and he glories in the triumphant title— a 
 title which, as an American citizen's, is a prouder one than 
 tha of king or kaiser I " said Mr. Toosypegs, enthusiastically, 
 while he repeated the sentence he had read out of a late 
 novel : ' It is a title for which emperors might lay down 
 their scepters— for which potentates might doff the royal 
 purple— for which the great ones of the earth might— a— 
 might -Mr Toosypegs paused -nd knit his brows, having 
 evidently lost his cue. ' ^ 
 
 " Kick the bucket I " 
 his aid. 
 
 "Mr. Harkins, I'm very much oblig,._ to you: but that 
 wasn't exactly the word," said Mr. l^oosyp^s politely 
 -Might '-oh, yes!-' might resign name and^ fame, and 
 dwell under the shadow of the American eagle, whose glori 
 ous wings extend to the four quarters of the earth, and before 
 
 forevermot'r " "^ "^" ''' "''^°"' "^ ^'^ "°^^^ '""^^ ^^"^h 
 
 And Mr. Toosypegs, carried away by national enthusiasm 
 
 hlZ nJ M™«"1^- " ^"""^^ '^'' '^' ^"^^ i" ^«"tact with ^e 
 head of Mr Harkins, and set more stars dancing before his 
 eyes than there would have been had the night been ever so 
 
 colfaredTr'^Ton^'- ^^'^'u' ^"^'^"^""y ^P^»"g round, and 
 whhv brown ,^°^'>'P^g^J'^««e complexion had turned from 
 whity-brown to gray, with terror, and whose teeth rh^tt.r.^ 
 wirn mingied shame and fear. 
 "You himpertanent wagabond!" shouted Mr. Karkius, 
 
 suggested Mr. Harkins, coming to 
 
 I 
 
 \,'*smmmm^-:~.i 
 

 .^Oi& 
 
 •aiva 
 
 lO 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 S-3 
 
 ll 
 
 ' to go for to strike a hunnofifending man like that ! Blessed ! 
 if I hain't a good mind to chuck yer 'ead fust hout the 
 
 waggin." 
 
 " Mr. Har — Har — Harkins," stammered the half-strangled 
 advocate of the American eagle, " I didn't mean to do it, 
 I'm very much obliged to you ! I do assure you, Mr. Har- 
 kins, I hadn't the faintest idea of hitting you; and if 
 
 money — " 
 
 " How much ? " demanded Mr. Harkins, fiercely, looking 
 bayonets at his trembling victim. 
 
 " Mr. Harkins, if five or even ten dollars — " 
 
 " Which is how many pounds ? " demanded the somewhat 
 mollified Mr. Harkins. 
 
 " Two pounds sterling," said Mr. Toosypegs, in a trem- 
 bling falsetto ; " and I do assure you, Hr. Harkins, I hadn't 
 the faintest idea of hitting you that time. If two pound — " 
 
 " Done ! " cried Mr. Harkins. " Never say it ag'in. ^ I 
 ain't a man to bear spite at no one — which is a Christian 
 maxim, Mr. Toosypegs. A clip side the head's neither here 
 nor there. Same time, I'll take them two-pound flimsies 
 now, if's all the same to you ? " 
 
 " Certainly— certainly, Mr. Harkins,"' said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 drawing out a purse well filled with gold, and opening it 
 nervously. " Three — five — ten dollars, and two for the 
 drive's twelve ; and one to buy sugar-plums for your infant 
 family — if you've got such a thing about you — is thirteen. 
 Here's thirteen dollars, Mr. Harkins. I'm very much 
 obliged to you." 
 
 " Same to you, Mr. Toosypegs," said Mr. Harkins, pocket- 
 ing the money, with a broad grin. " ' May you ne'er want 
 a frien,' nor a bottle to give him,' as the poic says." 
 
 " Mr. Harkins, I'm obliged to you," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 grasping his hand, which Mr. Harkins resigned with a grunt. 
 "You have a soul, Mr. Harkins. I know it — I feel it. 
 Everybody mightn't find it out ; but I can — I perceived it 
 from the first." 
 
 Mr. Harkins heard this startling fact with the greatest in- 
 difference, merely saying, " Humph I " 
 
 " And now, how far do you suppose we are from the city, 
 Mr. Harkins 1 " said Mr. Toosypegs, in his most insinuating 
 tone. 
 
/a 
 
 MR. TOOSYPEGS. 
 
 II 
 
 Blessed ! 
 hout the 
 
 f-strangled 
 
 to do itj 
 
 , Mr. Har- 
 
 u ; and if 
 
 ly, looking 
 
 somewhat 
 
 in a trem- 
 s, I hadn't 
 pound — " 
 : ag'in. I 
 I Christian 
 either here 
 id flimsies 
 
 roosypegs, 
 opening it 
 ro for the 
 ^our infant 
 is thirteen, 
 /ery much 
 
 ins, pocket- 
 ne'er want 
 s." 
 
 roosypegs, 
 ith a grunt. 
 -I feel it. 
 lerceived it 
 
 greatest in- 
 
 )m the city, 
 insinuating 
 
 " 'Bout a mile or so." 
 
 " Could ycu recommend any hotel to me, Mr. Harkins. 
 I'm a stranger in thf -ity, you know, and should feel grate- 
 ful if you would," : r. t Mr. Toosypegs, humbly. 
 
 "Why, yes, I csr,. said Mr. Harkins, brightening sud- 
 denly up. " There's the ' Blue Pig,' one of the finest 'otels 
 m Lunnon, with the best o' 'commodations for man and 
 laeast. You've heern o' the ' Blue Pig ' over there in Hamer- 
 ica, hain't you ? " 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs wasn't sure. It was very likely he had ; 
 but, owing to his bad memory, he had forgotten. 
 
 " Well, anyhow, you won't find many 'otels to beat that 
 'ere. Best o' 'commodation — but I told you that hafore." 
 
 " Where is it located ? " asked Mr. Toosypegs. 
 
 " St. Giles. You know where that is, in course — hevery- 
 body does. The nicest 'otel in Lunnon— best o' 'commoda- 
 tions. But I told you that hafore. My hold frien' Bruisin' 
 Bob keeps it. You'll like it, I know." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Harkins, I dare say I will. I am very much 
 obliged to you," said Mr. Toosypegs, in a somewhat dubious 
 tone. 
 
 " That 'ere man's the greatest cove a-goin'," said Mr. 
 Harkms, getting enthusiastic. " Been married ten times if 
 he's been married once. One wife died ; one left his bread- 
 board, and run hoff with a hofficer dragoon ; one was lagged 
 for stealin' wipes, and he's got three livin' at this present 
 wntin'. Great fellar is Bob." 
 
 " I haven't the slightest doubt of it, Mr. Harkins," said 
 the proprietor of the freckles, politely ; " and I anticipate a 
 great deal of pleasure in making the acquaintance of your 
 friends, Mr. and Mrs Bob. But. good gracious! Mr. 
 Harkins, just look there— if that ain't a woman hurrying on 
 there after," said Mr. Toosypegs, pointing, in intense sur- 
 prise, to the form of the gipsy, as she darted swiftly away 
 from the cottage. ^ 
 
 "Well, what o' that ? Some tramper a-goin' to Lunnon." 
 said Mr. Harkins, gruffly. 
 
 " But, Mr. Harkins, a woman out in such a storm at this 
 hour of the night ! Why, it ain't right," said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs. getting excited. 
 
 Mr. Harkins picked up his hat, turned down the collar of 
 
oiiailiTiiL 
 
 :31Va L 
 
 ' }^« f' s «mmmiLLi.mm.m fm 
 
 xa 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 his coat, faced abruptly round, and looked Mr. Toosypegs 
 straight in the eyes. 
 
 «' i-o call to her to get in, Mr. Harkins. There's plenty 
 of room for her on the back seat," said Mr. Toosypegs, un- 
 heeding Mr. Harkins' astounded look at his philanthropy. 
 "A woman traveling on foot in such a storm 1 Why, it ain't 
 right ! " repeated Mr, Toosypegs, getting still more excited. 
 
 " Mr. Toosypegs, Hamericans don't never be a little hout 
 their mind, do they ? " said Mr. Harkins, blandly. 
 
 <' Not often, Mr. Harkins, I'm very much obliged to you," 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, with his customary politeness. 
 
 " Because if they did, you know," said Mr. Harkins, in 
 the same bland tone, " I should say you wasn't quite right 
 yourself, you know ! " 
 
 " Good gracious 1 Mr, Harkins, what do you mean ? " ex- 
 claimed Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of mild remonstrance. 
 " You don't think I'm crazy, do you ? " 
 
 " Mr. Toosypegs, I don't like to be personal ; so I'll only 
 say it's my private opinion you're a brick ! " said Mr. 
 Harkins, mildly. " Perhaps, though, its the hair of Hingland 
 wot doesn't agree with you. I thought you was wery sen- 
 sible a little w'ile ago, when you gin me them two poun'." 
 
 <' I'm very much obliged to you for your good opinion, 
 Mr. Harkins," said Mr. Toosypegs, blushing. "And if 
 you'll only call to that woman to get into the wagon, I'll be 
 
 still more so." 
 
 " And have your pockets picked ? " said Mr. Harkms, 
 sharply. " I shan't do no sich thing." 
 
 « Mr. Harkins ! " said Mr. Toosypegs, warmly, " she's a 
 woman — ain't she ? " 
 
 " Well, wot if she be ? " said Mr. Harkins, sullenly. 
 
 " Why, that no woman should be walking at this hour 
 when men are riding; more p-rticularly when there is a 
 back seat with nobody in it. Why, it ain't right 1 " said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, who seemed unable to get beyond this point. 
 
 " Well, I don't care ! " said Mr. Harkins, snappishly. "Do 
 you s'pose, Mr. Toosypegs, I have nothing to do but buy_ 
 waggins to kerry sich lumber as that 'ere ? I won't do it 
 for no one. I.ikelv as not she's nothin' but a gipsy, or some- 
 thing as bad. This 'ere waggin ain't goin' to be perluted 
 with no sich trash." 
 
a L 
 
 MR. TOOSYPEGS. 
 
 13 
 
 josypegs 
 
 :'s plenty 
 pegs, un- 
 inthropy. 
 y, it ain't 
 : excited, 
 ittle hout 
 
 to you," 
 
 irkins, in 
 uite right 
 
 an ? " ex- 
 nstrance. 
 
 . I'll only 
 said Mr. 
 Hingland 
 very sen- 
 poun'." 
 opinion, 
 "And if 
 .n, I'll be 
 
 Harkins, 
 
 » she's a 
 
 ily. 
 
 this hour 
 bere is a 
 ' said Mr. 
 s point. 
 hly- "Do 
 J but buy 
 'on't do it 
 T, or some- 
 s perluted 
 
 " Mr. Harkins," said Mr. Toosypegs, briskly, thrusting his 
 hand into his pocket, " what will you take and bring her to 
 London ? " 
 
 " Hey ? ' A fool and his money '—hum ! What'll you 
 give .'' " 
 
 " There s a crown." 
 
 " Done 1 " said Mr. Harkins, closing his digits on the 
 coin, while his little eyes snapped. " Hullo 1 you, woman 1 " 
 he shouted, rising his voice. 
 
 The gipsy— who, though but a yard or so ahead, was in- 
 distinguishable in the darkness — sped on without paying the 
 slightest attention to his call. 
 
 " Hallo, there ! Hallo 1 " again called Mr. Harkins, while 
 Mr. Toosypegs followed him : 
 
 " Stop a moment, if you please, madam." 
 
 But neither for the sharp, surly order of the driver, nor 
 the bland, courteous request of Mr. Toosypegs, did the woman 
 stop. Casting a brief, fleeting glance over her shoulder, she 
 again flitted on. 
 
 " You confounded old witch I Stop and take a ride to 
 town— will you?" yelled the polite and agreeable Mr. 
 Harkins, holding up a dark lantern and reining in his horse 
 by the woman's side. 
 
 The dark, stern face, with its fierce, black eyes and wildly- 
 streaming hair, was turned, and a hard, deep voice asked 
 what he wanted. 
 
 " A gipsy 1 I knew it ! " muttered Mr. Harkins, shrink- 
 ing involuntarily from her lurid glances. " Ugh 1 What a 
 face ! Looks like the witch in the play ? " Then aloud : 
 " Get in, ma'am, and I'll take ye to town." 
 
 " Go play your jokes on some one else," said the woman, 
 curtly, turning away. 
 
 "I ain't a-jokin'. Nice time o' night this to stop and 
 play jokes — ain't it? " said Mr. Harkins, in a tone of intense 
 irony. "This 'ere young man, which is a Hamerican from 
 the New Knighted States, has paid yer fare to Lunnon outer 
 his hown blessed pocket. So jump in, and don't keep me 
 waitin' here in the wet." 
 
 " Is what he says true ? " said the dark woman, turning 
 the sharp light of her stiletto-like eyes on the freckles and 
 pale-blue eyes of good natured Mr. Toosypegs. 
 
^TLlniitik i J^ ^ 
 
 :31Va i 
 
 14 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am. I'm happy to say it is," said Mr. Toosy* 
 pegs. " Allow me to hand you in." 
 
 And Mr. Toosypegs got up to fulfill his offer ; but Dobbin 
 at that moment gave the wagon a malicious jerk, and dumped 
 f.ur patriotic American back in his seat. Before he could 
 recover his breath, the gipsy had declined his assistance, 
 with a wave of her hand, and had entered the wagon un- 
 assisted, and taken her seat. 
 
 " I know that tramper," said Mr. Harkins in a nervous 
 whisper to Mr. Toosypegs. "It's the gipsy queen, Ketura, 
 from Yetholin ; most wonderful woman that ever was, 'cept 
 Deborah, the woman the Bible tells about, you know, wot 
 druv the nail through the fellar's head when she found him 
 takin' a snooze. Heard a minister take her for his tex' 
 once, and preach all about it. Our cow's name's Deborah, 
 too," said Mr. Harkins, absently. 
 
 " And she's a gipsy queen ? Lord bless us 1 " exclaimed 
 Mr. Toosypegs, turning round and looking in some alarm at 
 the fixed, stern, dark face before him — like the face of a 
 statue in bronze. " Does she tell fortunes ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but you'd better not hask her to-night," said Mr. 
 Harkins, in the same cautious whisper. " Her son's in 
 prison, and sentenced to transportation for life for robbin* 
 the plate of the Hearl De Courcy. He's goin' off with a 
 lot of bothers airly to-morrow mornin'. Now, don't go ex- 
 claiming that way," said Mr. Harkins, in a tone expressive 
 of disgust, as he gave his companion a dig in the side. 
 
 " Poor thing 1 poor thing I " said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone 
 of sympathy. " Why, it's too bad ; it really is, Mr. Harkins." 
 
 " Sarved him right, it's my opinion," said Mr. Harkins, 
 sententiously. " Wot business had he for to go for to rob 
 Hearl de Courcy, I want ter know ? His mother, the hold 
 lady ahind here, went and sot him up for a gentleman, and 
 see wot's come hof hit. She, a hold gipsy queen, goin' and 
 sendin' her son to Heton with hall the young lordses, and 
 baronetses, and dukeses, and makin' believe he was some- 
 thin' above the common. And now see what her fine gentle- 
 man's gone and done and come to. Wonder wot she'll think 
 of herself, when she sees him takin' a sea voyage for the 
 good of his 'ealth at the 'spense of the government, to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 flW5**t*!*«»M*=- 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS. 
 
 »5 
 
 "Poor thing I poor thing I " said Mr. Toosypegs, looking 
 deeply sorry. 
 
 " Poor hold thing hindeed 1 " said Mr. Harkins, turning 
 up his nose contemptuously. " Sarved 'im right, I say ag'in. 
 That 'ere son o' hern was the most stuck-hup chap I ever 
 clapped my two blessed heyes on. Hafter he left Heton, I 
 see'd 'im, one day, in the streets, hand guess who with ? 
 W'y, with nobody less than young Lord Williers, honly 
 son o' the Hearl De Courcy, as he has gone and robbed. 
 There's hmgratitude for you! I didn't know 'im then; 
 but I 'cognized him hafterward in the court-room hat 'is 
 trial." 
 
 " How could he afford to go to Eton— he, a gipsy ? " said 
 Mr. Toosypegs, in surprise. 
 
 " Dunno 1 Hold woman sent 'im, I s'pose — 'owever she 
 got the money. He was a fine-looking 'fellow, too, I must 
 say, though raythcr tawny, but 'andsome as Lord Williers 
 hmiself. Hold Ketura was 'andsome once, too ; see'd 'er 
 w'en she was a reg'lar hout-and-hout beauty; though you 
 mightn't think it now. Times changes folks, yer know," 
 said Mr. Harkins, in a moralizing tone. 
 
 " What made him steal, if his mother was so rich ? " said 
 Mr. Toosypegs. 
 
 " His mother wasn't rich no more'n I be. S'pose she made 
 enough tellin' fortunes, poachin', and stealin' to pay fur 'im 
 at school ; hand then when he growed hup, and his cash 
 gave out, he took hand stole the head's plate. He denied 
 It hall hat 'is tria^ ; but then they hall do that. By jingo I 
 he looked fierce enough to knock the judge and jury, and 
 all the rest on 'em, hinto the middle hof next week, hif noc 
 further, that day. 'Twas no go, though; hand hover the 
 water he goes to-morrow." 
 
 "Poor fellow I Mr. Harkins, I'm sorry for him— I really 
 am,' said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of real sincerity, 
 
 Mr. Harkins burst into a gruff laugh. 
 ^ " Well, hif this ain't good I Wot fools folks is ! Sorry 
 lor a cove yer never saw 1 Wonder hif hall Hamericans is 
 as green as you be ? " 
 
 i^t^*^^•Ju^^^^"^^"^^' ^^^^^ came out in a series of little 
 jer.-s, vr'ith strong notes of admiration appended to each, Mr. 
 Harkms relapsed into silence and the collar of his greatcoat, 
 
 T«afl«Rra*i*«i»-. 
 
ill' J 
 
 HT 
 
 •aiva L 
 
 i6 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 It; ' 
 
 and began whistling '* The Devil Among the Tailors," in a 
 voice like a frog with the influenza. 
 
 They were now rapidly approaching the city — the loud 
 crash and din of which had somewhat subsided, owing to 
 the inclemency of the weather and the lateness of the hour. 
 The gipsy, who had not heard a word of the foregoing con- 
 versation—it having been carried on in a prudently-subdued 
 tone — had wrapped her coarse cloak closer around her, 
 while the gaze of her devouring eyes grew more intense, as 
 the lights of the city began to appear. One by one, they 
 came gleaming out through the dense fog with bug-like stars 
 here and there ; and in every direction. 
 
 The city was gained ; and they were soon in the very 
 midst of the great, throbbing heart of mighty London. 
 
 The wagon stopped, and Mr. Toosypegs sprung out to 
 assist the woman to alight. 
 
 But waving him away with an impatient motion, she sprung 
 out unassisted, and without one word or look of thanks, 
 turned and flitted away in the chill night wind. 
 
 " There 1 I knowedthat would be all the thanks ye'd get," 
 said Mr. Harkins, with a hoarse chuckle. " Hoff she goes, 
 and j'ou'U never see her again." 
 
 "Well, that do.'t matter any. I didn't want thanks, I'm 
 sure," said the kind-hearted Mr. Toosypegs. "Good-by, 
 Mr. Harkins. Give my respects to Mrs. Harkins." 
 
 " Good-night, hold fellar," said Mr. Harkins, giving Mr. 
 Toosypegs' hand a cordial shake. " You're a brick ! How 
 I'd like to come hacr«%s one like you hev'ry night ! Go 
 right to Bob's, sign o' the * Blue Pig,' St. Giles, best o' 'com- 
 modation for man and beast ; but I told you that before. 
 Tell Bob I sent you, and I'll call and see you in a few 
 days." 
 
 " You're very good, Mr. Harkins. I'll certainly tell Mr. 
 Bob so when I see him ! " said Mr. Toosypegs, with a severe 
 twinge of conscience at the deception he felt himself to be 
 using; "and I'll be very glad to see you whenever you 
 call I'm very much obliged to you." 
 
I 
 
 THE LOVERS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE LOVERS. 
 
 « Oh, thou shalt be all else to me, 
 
 That heart can feel, or tongue can feign; 
 I'll praise, admire, and worship thee, 
 But must not, dare not, love again." 
 
 —Moore. 
 
 While the solitary wagon was driving, through wind and 
 rain, along the lonely north road, bearing its three strangely- 
 contrasted inmates — the gruff, avaricious driver, the simple, 
 kind-hearted youth, and the dark, fierce, stern woman — a far 
 different scene was passing in another quarter of the city. 
 At that same hour the town mansion of Hugh Seyton — Earl 
 De Courcy — was all ablaze with lights, music and mirth. 
 Gorgeous drawing-rooms, fretted with gold and carving, 
 dazzling with numberless jets of light from the pendant 
 chandeliers, odorous with the heavy perfume of costly exotics, 
 the very air quivering with softest music, were thrown open, 
 and were filled with the proud, the high-born, the beautiful, 
 cf London. Peers and peeresses, gallant nobles and ladies 
 bright, moved through the glittering rooms, and with singing, 
 talking, flirting, dancing, the night was waning apace. 
 
 Two young men stood together within the deep shadow of 
 a bay-window, in the music-room, watching a group assembled 
 round a young lady at the piano, and conversing in low 
 tones. 
 
 One of these was decidedly the handsomest man present 
 that night. In stature he was tall, somewhat above the 
 common height, and faultless in form and figure, with a cer- 
 tain air of distingue about him that stamped him as one of 
 noble birth. His clear, fair complexion, his curling chestnut 
 hair, and large blue eyes, betrayed his Saxon blood. His 
 face mifht have seemed slisrhtlv effeminate : but no one. in 
 looking at the high, kingly brow, the dark, flashing eyes, 
 
jik j%L ^ 
 
 •■3iva i 
 
 i8 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 and firm-set mouth, would have thought that long. A dark 
 mustache shaded his upper lip, and a strange, nameless 
 Ixauty lit up and softened his handsome face whenever he 
 smiled. Adored by the ladies, envied by the men, Lord 
 Ernest Villiers, only son of Earl De Courcy, seemed to have 
 nothing on earth left to wish for. 
 
 And yet, at times, over that white, intellectual brow a 
 dark shadow would flit ; from the depths of those dark, hand- 
 some eyes the bright light of a happy heart would pass; the 
 mouth would grow stern, and a look of troubled care would 
 darken his young face. 
 
 His compan-on, a good-looking young man, with a certain 
 air about him as if he were somebody and knew it, with a 
 listless look, and most desirable curling whiskers, leaned 
 against a marble Hebe, and listened languidly to the singing. 
 He wore the undress uniform of an officer, and being inter- 
 preted, was no other than Captain George Jernyngham, of 
 the Guards. 
 
 "What a wonderful afifair this is of Germaine's eh, 
 
 Villiers ? " said Captain Jernyngham, carressing his mustache! 
 " Just like a thing in a play, or a story, where everybody 
 
 turns out the most unexpected things. The Duke of B 
 
 is going crazy about it. He had invited Germaine to his 
 house, and the fellow was making the fiercest sort of love to 
 his pretty daughter, when all of a sudden, it turns out that 
 he is a robber, a gipsy, a burglar, and all sorts of horrors. 
 How the deuce came it to pass that he entered Eton with 
 us, and passed himself off as a gentleman ? " 
 
 " I cannot teil ; the whole affair is involved in mystery." 
 " You and he were pretty intimate — were you not, my 
 lord ? " 
 
 " Yes, I took a fancy to Germaine from the first ; and I 
 don't believe, yet, he is guilty of the crime they charge him 
 with." 
 
 " You don't, eh ? See what it is to have faith in human 
 nature 1 How are you to get over the evidence." 
 
 " It was only circumstantial." 
 
 " Granted ; but it was most conclusive. There is not an- 
 other man in London has the slightest doubt of his guilt 
 but yourself." 
 
 " Poor Germaine i '' said Lord Villiers, in a tone of deep 
 
THE LOVERS. 
 
 19 
 
 feeling ; " with all his brilliant talents, his high endow- 
 ments, and refined nature, to come to such a sad end I To 
 be obliged to mate with the lowest of the low, the vilest of 
 the vile — mer. degraded by every species of crime, below the 
 level of the brute I And this for life 1 Poor Germaine I " 
 
 The young guardsman shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " If refined men will steal — oh, I forgot 1 you don't be- 
 lieve it," he said, as Lord Villiers made an impatient motion, 
 " Well, I confess, I thought better things of Germaine my- 
 self. There was always something of the dare-devil in him, 
 and he was reckless and extravagant to a fault ; but upon 
 my honor, I never thought he could have come to this. 
 Have you seen him since his trial? " 
 
 " No, I had not the heart to meet him. Death would be 
 preferable to such a fate." 
 
 " There was a devil in his eye, if there ever was in any 
 man's, when he heard his sentence," observed the young 
 captain. " No one that saw him is likely to forget, in a 
 hurry, the way he folded his arms and smiled in the judge's 
 face, as he pronounced it. By Jove I I'm not given to 
 nervousness, but I felt a sensation akin to an ague-shiver, as 
 I watched him." 
 
 " With his fierce, passionate nature, it will turn him into a 
 perfect demon," said Lord Villiers ; " and if ever he escapes, 
 woe to those who have caused his disgrace 1 He is as im- 
 placable as death or doom in his hate — as relentless as a 
 Corsican in his vengeance." 
 
 " Has he any friends or relatives among the gipsies ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I think I heard of a mother, or brother, 
 or something. I intend paying him a last visit to-night, and 
 will deliver any message he may send to his friends." 
 
 " Will your rigorous father approve of such a visit, since 
 it was he that prosecuted Germaine? " 
 
 " Certainly, Jernyngham. My father, believing in his 
 guilt, thought it his duty to do so ; but he bears no feeling 
 of personal anger toward him," said Lord Villiers, gravely. 
 
 " Well, I wish Germaine a safe passage across the ocean," 
 said Captain Jernyngham, as he listlessly admired his hand 
 in its well-fitting glove. " He was a confoundedly good- 
 looking fellovv' ; cut me completely out with that pretty little 
 prize widow of old Sir Rob Landers ; but I'll be magnani- 
 
; 1.L' uli !L^ 
 
 20 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 [; 1 
 
 mous and forgive him now. Oh, by Jove I Villiers, there 
 goes ady N^aude Percy I" cried the guardsman, starting 
 sudd y U| all his listlessness disappearing as if by magic. 
 " Ye •^0^4-, what a p* rfeftly dazzling beauty 1 Ah I my 
 UikA, i thovij^ Ht you would lind the subject more interesting 
 than that of p.jof Germaine," he added, with a mischievous 
 smile at his companion's look of inten.*;e admiration. 
 
 Lord Villiers laughed, and his clear fact* flushed. 
 
 *' 1 he handsomest girl in London, and the greatest heiress," 
 #aJd the guardsman, resuming his half-drawl and languid 
 caiiise-n^ of his whiskers. " V' ' nt an intensely enviable 
 fellow yo. ) are, Villiers, if rumor ib true." 
 
 " And wiiat says rumor ? " said Lord Villiers, coldly. 
 
 •' Why, that you are the accepted lover of the fair Lady 
 Maude." 
 
 Before the somewhat haughty r:ply of Lord Villiers was 
 spoken, a young lady, suddenly entering the room, caught 
 sight of them, and coming over, she addressed the guards- 
 man with : 
 
 " George, you abominably lazy fellow, have you forgotten 
 you are engaged for this set to Miss Ashton ? Really, my 
 lord, you ai.d this idle brother of mine ought to be ashamed 
 to make hermits of yourselves in this way, while so many 
 bright eyes are watching for your coming. Lady Maude -s 
 here, and I will report you." 
 
 And, raising her finger warningly. Miss Jernyngham 
 tripped away. 
 
 " ' Fare thee well — and if forever 1 ' " said Captain Jernyng- 
 ham, in a tragic tone, as he turned away. 
 
 •' ' Why, forever fare thee well 1 ' " said Lord Villiers laugh- 
 ing as he finished the quotation, and turned in an opposite 
 direction. 
 
 The dancing was at its height as he passed from the 
 music-room. Standing a little apart, his eyes went wander- 
 ing over the fair forms tripping through the " mazy dance," 
 while they rested on one form fairer than all the rest, and 
 his handsome face brightened, and his fine eyes lit up, as a 
 man's alone does, when he watches the woman he loves. 
 
 Standing at the head of one of the quadrilles wa,:. »^he ob- 
 ject of his gaze — the peerless, high-born T>adv Maud? Pei'CV. 
 Eighteen summers had scarce passed over her youiig head, 
 
 it^%^ 
 
THE LOVERS. 
 
 SI 
 
 as a 
 
 yet a thoughtful, alrnost sad, expression ever fell like a shadow 
 on her beautiful face. Her form was rounded, exquisite, 
 perfect; her oval face perfecl'v colorless, save f >> iU*. full, 
 crimson lips, her eyes large, da ,. and lustrous a ♦ us, and 
 fringed by Ion :, silken-blacken lashes ; her shining hair fell 
 in soft, glittering, spiral curls, like raveled silk, round her 
 fair, moonlight face ; and her pallor seemed deepened by 
 its raven hue. Her dress \\ i of whiu brocade, fringed 
 with seed-pearls ; and her snowy arms and neck gleamed 
 through misty clouds of point-lace. Pale, oriental pearls, 
 wreathed her midnight hair, and ran in rivers of light around 
 her neck. Queenly, peerless, dazzling, she moved through 
 the l)rilliant train of beauties, eclipsing them all, as a meteor 
 outsliines lesser stars. 
 
 Drinking in the enchanting draught of her beauty to intoxi- 
 cation, Lord Ernest Villiers stood leaning against a marble 
 pillar until the dance was concluded ; and then moving 
 toward her, as she stood for an instant alone, he bent over 
 her, and whispered, in a voice that was low but full of 
 passion : 
 
 "Maude! Maude! why have you tried to avoid me all 
 the evening ? I must see you 1 I must speak to you in 
 private 1 I must hear my destiny from your lips to- 
 night ! " 
 
 At the first sound of his voice she had started quickly, 
 and the *' eloquent blood " had flooded cheek and bosom 
 with its rosy light ; but as he went on it faded away, and a 
 sort of shiver passed through her frame as he ceased. 
 
 " Come with me into me music-room — it is deserted now," 
 he said, drawing her arm through his. " There, apart from 
 all those prying eyes, I can learn my fate." 
 
 Paler still grew the pale face of the lady ; but, without a 
 word, she suffered herself to be led to the shadowy and de- 
 serted room he had just left. 
 
 " And now, Maude — my own love — may I claim an answer 
 to the question 1 asked you last night ? " he caid, bending 
 over her. 
 
 " I answered you then, my lord," she said, sadly. 
 
 " Yes ; you told me to go — to forget you ; as if such a 
 
 111111; 
 
 were p'oDD 
 
 ijSibk 
 
 Maude, 
 
 I cannot, I 
 for an answer. Tell me, do you love me ? " 
 
 will 
 
 karCe that 
 

 
 - £^ ^ 'iJ L 
 
 31MQ L 
 
 22 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 " Oh, Ernest — oh, my dear lord 1 you know I do ! " she 
 cried, passionately. 
 
 " Then, Maude — my beautiful one — will you not be mine 
 > — my wife ? " 
 
 " Oh, I cannot 1 I cannot 1 Oh, Ernest, I cannot 1 " she 
 said, with a convulsive sudder. 
 
 '* Cannot/ And why, in Heaven's name ? " 
 
 " My lord, that is my secret. I can never, never be your 
 wife. Choose some one worthier of you, and forget Maude 
 Percy." 
 
 She tried to steady her voice, but a stifled sob finished 
 the sentence. 
 
 For all answer he gathered her in his strong arms, and 
 her head dropped on his shoulder. 
 
 " My poor little romantic Maude, what is this wonderful 
 secret ? " he said, smihng. " Tell me, and we will see if 
 your mountain does not turn out a molehill after all. Now, 
 why cannot you be my wife ? " 
 
 " You think me weak and silly, my lord," she said, rais- 
 ing her head somewhat proudly, and withdrawing from his 
 retaining arms ; " but there is a reason, one sufl&cient to 
 separate us forever — one that neither you nor any living 
 mortal can ever know I " 
 
 " And you refuse to tell this reason ? My father and 
 yours are eager for this match ; in worldly rank we are 
 equals ; I love you passionately, with all my heart and soul, 
 and still you refuse. Maude, you never loved me," he said, 
 bitterly. 
 
 Her pale sweet face was bent in her hands now, and 
 large tears fell through her fingers. 
 
 " Maude, you will not be so cruel," he said, with sudden 
 hope. " Only say I may hope for this dear hand." 
 
 " No, no. Hope for nothing but to forget one so miser- 
 able as I am. Oh, Lord Ernest ! there are so many 
 better and worthier than I am, who will love you. I will be 
 your friend — your sister, if I may ; but I can never be your 
 wife." 
 
 " Maude, is there guilt, is there crime connected with this 
 secret of yours ? " he demanded, stepping before her. 
 
 She rose to her feet impetuously, her cheeks crimsoning, 
 
THE LOVERS. 
 
 23 
 
 her large eyes filling and darkening with indignation, her 
 noble brow expanded, her haughty little head erect. 
 
 '' And you think me capable of crime, Lord Villiers ? — of 
 guilt that needs concealment ? " she said, with proud 
 scorn. 
 
 " You, Maude ? No ; sooner would I believe an angel 
 from heaven guilty of crime, than you. But I thought there 
 mifht be others involved. Oh, Lady Maude 1 must this 
 secret, that involves the happiness of my whole life, remain 
 hidden from me ? " 
 
 The bright light had died out from the beautiful eyes of 
 Lady Maude ; and her tone was very sad, as she replied : 
 
 " Some day, my lord, I will tell you all ; but not now. Let 
 us part here, and let this subject never be renewed between 
 us." 
 
 " One word, Maude — do you love me ? " 
 
 " I do ! I do 1 Heaven forgive me 1 " 
 
 " Now, why, ' Heaven forgive me ? ' Maude I Maude 1 
 you will drive me mad 1 Is it such a crime to love me 
 then ? " 
 
 " In some it is," she said, in her low, sad voice. 
 
 " And why, fairest saint ? " 
 
 " Do not ask me, my lord. Oh, Ernest 1 let me go, I am 
 tired and sick, and very, very unhappy. Dearest Ernest, 
 leave me, and never speak of this again." 
 
 " As you will, Lady Maude," he said, with a bow, turning 
 haughtily away. 
 
 But a light touch, that thrilled to his very heart, was laid 
 on his arm, and the low, sweet voice of Lady Maude said : 
 
 " I have offended you, my lord ; pray forgive me." 
 
 " I am not offended. Lady Maude Percy ; neither have I 
 anything to forgive," he said ; but his fine face was clouded 
 with mortification. " You have rejected me, and I presume 
 the matter ends there." 
 
 " But you are offended, I can hear it in your voice. Oh, 
 Lord Villiers, if you knew how unhappy I am, you would 
 forgive me the pain I have caused you." 
 
 Her tone touched him, and taking her hand gently, he 
 said: 
 
 Tf" 1C T \irV*r\ 
 
 -7 1 1 •-. 
 
 'VIM I ci^rv L\ji ; 
 
 
 X7X a, U.U \^ . 
 
 1 '^a. 
 
 I will accept the friendship you offer, until such time as I 
 

 TI^ 
 
 •3L\fQ i 
 
 •n'f ' ■^fr'i't""^-'-' "'"'^ 
 
 24 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 Notwithstanding all you have 
 
 "What's that about gipsies 
 little Miss Jernyngham, passing 
 
 can claim a better reward, 
 said, I do not despair still." 
 
 He pressed her hand to his lips and was gone. 
 
 " Excuse me, your lordship, " insinuated a most aris- 
 tocratic footman in his ear, at that moment, " but there is an 
 individual downstairs who persists on seeing the earl, and 
 and won't take no for an answer." 
 
 •* Who is it ? " inquired Lord Villiers, impatiently. 
 
 "A gipsy, my lord, a desperate-looking old tramper, too." 
 
 ? " said the unceremonious 
 at that moment. " You 
 must know, my lord, I fairly dote on gipsies, ever since I 
 saw that charming young man they are going to transport." 
 
 " How I wish I were a [ ipsy 1 " said Lord Villiers, gayly, 
 " for such a reward." 
 
 " Pray spare your pretty speeches for Lady Maude Percy, 
 my lord," lisped Miss Jernyngham, giving him a tap with 
 her fan ; " but about this gipsy — is it a man or woman ? " 
 
 " A woman, Miss, they call her the gipsy queen, Ketura." 
 
 " A gipsy queen ! oh, delightful 1 " cried the young lady, 
 clapping her hands ; " my lord, we must have her up, by all 
 means. I insist on having my fortune told." 
 
 " Your slave hears but to obey. Miss Jernyngham." said 
 Lord Villiers, with a bow. ** Jonson, go and bring the old 
 lady up." 
 
 " Yes, me lud," said Jonson, hurrying off. 
 
 *♦ George — George ! do come here 1 " exclaimed the young 
 lady, as her brother passed ; " I want you 1 " 
 
 " What's all this about ? " said the guardsman, lounging 
 up. " My dear Clara, the way you do get the steam up at a 
 moment's notice is perfectly astonishing. What can I do 
 for you ? " 
 
 " Do you want to have your fortune told ? " 
 
 " If any good sibyl would predict for me a rich wife, who 
 would pay my debts, and keep me provided with kid gloves 
 and cigars, I wouldn't object ; but in any other case — " 
 
 His speech was cut short by the sudden appearance of 
 the footman with the gipsy queen, of whom he seemed con- 
 siderably afraid. And truly not without reason ; for a lion- 
 ess in her lair might have looked about as safe an animal 
 as the dark, fierce-eyed gipsy queen. Even the two young 
 
THE I.OVERS. 
 
 25 
 
 men started ; and Miss Clara Jernyngham stifled a little 
 scream behind her fan. 
 
 " I wish to see Earl De Courcy," was her abrupt demand. 
 
 " And we wish our fortune told, good mother," said Lord 
 Villiers; "my father will attend to you presently," 
 
 " Your father I " said the woman, fixing her piercing eyes 
 on his handsome face, " then you are Lord Villiers ? " 
 
 " You have guessed it. What has the future in store for 
 me?" 
 
 " Nothing good for your father's son," she hissed through 
 her clenched teeth. " Give me your hand." 
 
 He extended it, with a smile, and she took it in hers, and 
 peered into it. What a contrast they were ! his, white, 
 ^all, and delicate ; her hand, bronzed and rough. 
 
 " Well, mother, what has destiny in store for me ? " 
 
 " Much good or more evil. This night decides thy des- 
 tiny ; either thou shalt be blessed for life, or if the scale 
 turns against thee— then woe to thee 1 Stand aside— the 
 earl comes." 
 
 A tall, distinguished-looking man, of middle age, ap- 
 proached, and looked with grave surprise on the group be- 
 fore him. 
 
 "A word with you, lord-earl," said the gipsy, confronting 
 him. 
 
 " Speak out, then." 
 
 " It must be in private." 
 
 *' Who are you ? " said the earl, surprised and curious. 
 
 "I am called the gipsy queen, Ketura," said the woman, 
 drawing herself up. 
 
 " And what do you want of me, woman ? " 
 
 " I tell you I must speak in private. Is your time so 
 precious that you cannot grant ten minutes of it to me ? " 
 said the woman, with a fiercely-impatient flash of her black 
 eyes. 
 
 '* This way, then," said the earl, impressed by the wo- 
 man's commanding look and tones, as he turned and led the 
 way across a wide, lighted hall to a richly-furnished library. 
 
 Seating himself in a softly-cushioned lounging-chair, he 
 waited for his singular visitor to begin. 
 
itioiML 
 
 iX*. Mm. JLm n<uL 
 
 26 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE gipsy's vow. 
 
 «' May the grass wither from thy feet ! the woods 
 Deny thee shelter ! earth, a home I the dust, 
 A grave I the sun, his light I and heaven, her God I 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 "Well, madam, I am waiting," said the earl, after a 
 pause, during which the wild, black eyes of the woman were 
 fixed immovably on his face, until he began to grow uneasy 
 under the steady glare. 
 
 " Lord earl, behold at thy feet a mother who comes to 
 plead for her son," said the strange woman, sinking on her 
 knees at his feet, and holding up her clasped hands. 
 
 "Madam, I do not understand," said the earl, surprised, 
 and feeling himself obliged, as it were, to use a respectful 
 form of address, by the woman's commanding look. 
 
 " My son is in your power ! my darling, my only son ! my 
 first-born ! Oh, spare him 1 " said the woman, still holding 
 up her clasped hands. 
 
 " Your son ? Madam, I do not understand," said the 
 earl, knitting his brows in perplexity. 
 
 " You have condemned him to transportation I And he 
 is innocent— as innocent of the crime for which he is to 
 suffer as the angels in heaven," cried the woman, in passion- 
 ate tones. 
 
 ** Madam, I assure you, I do not understand. Who is 
 your son ? " said the earl, more and more perplexed. 
 
 " You know him as Germaine, but he is my son, Reginald 
 
 my only son 1 Oh, my lord 1 spare him I spare him 1 " 
 
 wildly pleaded the gipsy queen. 
 " Madam, rise." 
 
 " Not until you have pardoned my son." 
 " That I will never do 1 Your son has been found guilty 
 of .wilful robberv, and has been very justly condemned. I 
 
THE GIPSY'S VOW. 
 
 27 
 
 can do nothing for him," said the earl, while his brow grew 
 dark, and his mouth hard and stern. 
 
 " My lord, he is innocent 1 " almost shrieked the wretched 
 woman at his feet. 
 
 " I do not believe it 1 He has been proven guilty," said 
 the earl, coldly. 
 
 " It is false 1 as false as the black hearts of the perjurers 
 who swore against him I " fiercely exclaimed the gipsy ; " he 
 is innocent of this crime, as innocent of it as thou art, lord 
 earl. Oh, Earl De Courcy, as you hope for pardon from 
 God, pardon him." 
 
 " Madam, I command you to rise." 
 
 " Never, never ! while my son is in chains I Oh, my lord, 
 you do not know, you never can dream, how I have loved 
 that boy 1 I had no one else in the wide world to love ; not 
 a drop of kindred blood ran in any human heart but his ; 
 and I lov d, I adored, I worshiped him ! Oh, Earl De 
 Courcy, I have suffered cold, and hunger, and thirst, and 
 hardship, that he might never want ; I have toiled for him 
 night and day, that he might never feel pain ; I have stooped 
 to actions I loathed, that he might be happy and free from 
 guilt. And, when he grew older, I gave him up, though it 
 was like rending soul and body apart. I sent him away ; I 
 I sent him to school with the money that years and years of 
 unceasing toil had enabled me to save. I sent him to be 
 educated with gentlemen. I never came near him, lest any 
 one should suspect his mother was a gipsy. Yes ; I gave 
 him up, though it was like tearing my very heart-stri.igs 
 apart, content in knowing he was happy, and in seeing him 
 at a distance at long intervals. For twenty-three years, my 
 life has been one long dream of him ; sleeping or waking, in 
 suffering and trial, the thought that he was near me gave me 
 joy and strength. And now he is condemned for life—con- 
 demned to a far-off land, among convicts and felons, where I 
 will never see him again 1 Oh, Lord De Courcy I mercy, 
 mercy for my son I " 
 
 With the wild cry of a mother's agony, she shrieked out 
 that frenzied appeal for mercy, and groveled prone to the 
 floor at his feet. 
 
 A SDasm of nain nasspd nvpr fhe f-^f^o r\( fV,^ ^orl ^"t- Ka 
 answered, sternly: 
 
-'■iTf- 
 
 AtmL 
 
 
 ■31\fQ i 
 
 28 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " Woman, your son is guilty. I cannot pardon him 1 '* 
 «' He is not guilty 1 Perish the soul so base as to believe 
 -uch a falsehood of my high-hearted boy 1 " cried the gipsy, 
 dashing fiercely back her wildly-streaming black hair. " He 
 my proud, glorious, kindly-hearted Reginald, stoop to such 
 a crime 1 Oh, sooner could the angels themselves be guilty 
 
 of it than he I" „ • • 
 
 " Woman, you rave 1 Once again I tell you, rise 1 
 
 " Pardon, pardon for my son 1 " 
 
 " Madam, I cannot. I pity you. Heaven knows I do I 
 but he is guilty, and must suffer." . , , 
 
 " Oh, my God I how shall I convince him ? cried the 
 wretched woman, wringing her hands in wildest despair. 
 "Oh Earl De Courcyl you, too, have a son, handsome, 
 gallakt and noble, the pride of your old age, the last scion 
 of your proud race 1 For his sake, for the sake of your son, 
 
 pardon mine ! " . j ;] 
 
 " Once more I tell you, I cannot. Your son is condemned ; 
 to-morrow his sentence will be executed, and I have no 
 power to avert it. And, madam, though I pity you deeply, 
 I must again say he deserves it. Nay— hear me out. I 
 know you do not believe it ; you think him innocent, and, 
 being his mother, it is natural you should think so ; but, be- 
 lieve me, he is none the less guilty. Your son deserves his 
 fate, all the more so for his ingratitude to you, after all you 
 have done for him. I deeply pity you, as Heaven hears me, 
 
 Idol" , r V f 
 
 " Oh, then, for my sake, if there is one spark of pity tor 
 me in your heart, do not kill ine ! For, Lord De Courcy, 
 it will be a double murder, his death and mine, if this sen- 
 tence is executed." . 
 
 " The law must take its course ; I cannot prevent it. And 
 once more, madam, I beseech you to rise. You should 
 kneel to God alone." 
 
 " God would forgive him, had I pleaded to Him thus ; 
 but you, tiger-heart, you will not 1 " shrieked the woman, 
 throwing up her arms in the impotence of her despair. "Oh, 
 lord earl, I have never knelt to God or man before ; and to 
 have my petition spurned now ! You hold my life m the 
 hollow of your hand, and you will not grant 
 
 " I tell you I cannot." 
 
 It it 1 " 
 
 %, 
 
THE GIPSY'S VOW. 
 
 29 
 
 " You can — you can 1 It is in your power ? You are 
 great, and rich, and powerful, and can have his sentence 
 annulled. By your soul's salvation, by your hopes of 
 heaven, by your mother's grave, by Him whom you worship, 
 I conjure you to save my son I " 
 
 The haggard face was convulsed ; the brow was dark, 
 and corrugated with agony ; the lips white and quiver- 
 ing ; the eyes wild, lurid, blazing with anguish and 
 despair ; her clenched hands upraised in passionate prayer 
 for pardon, A fearful sight was that despair-maddened 
 woman, as she knelt at the stern earl's feet, her very voice 
 sharp with inward agony. 
 
 He shaded his eyes with his hands to keep out the pitiful 
 sight ; but his stern, determined look passed not away. 
 His face seemed hardened with iron, despite the deep pity 
 of his heart. 
 
 " You are yielding 1 He will yet be saved 1 Oh, I knew 
 the iron-heart would soften 1 " she cried out, with maniac 
 exultation, taking hope from his silence. 
 
 '* My poor woman, you deceive yourself. I can do noth- 
 ing for your son," said the earl, sadly. 
 
 " What 1 Do you still refuse ? Oh, it cannot be 1 I am 
 going mad, I think I Tell me — tell me that my son will 
 live ! " 
 
 " Woman, I have no power over your son's life." 
 
 " Oh, you have — you have 1 Do you think he could 
 live one single day among those with whom you would send 
 him ? As you hope for pardon on that last dread day, par- 
 don my son ! " 
 
 " It is all in vain. Rise, madam." 
 
 " You refuse ? " 
 
 " I do. Rise I " 
 
 With the fearful bound of a wild beast, she sprung to her 
 feet, and, awful in her rage, like a tigress robbed of her 
 young, she stood before him. Even the stern earl drew back 
 in dismay. 
 
 " Then, heart of steel, hear me ! " she cried, raising one 
 long arm toward heaven, and speaking in a voice terrific in 
 its very depth of despair. " Tiger-heart, listen to me ! From 
 th''^ moment I vow. before God and all his angels, to devote 
 my whole life to revenge on you ! Living, may ruin, misery, 
 
ilt'.iih' 
 
 ••3ava 
 
 30 
 
 run GYPSY QUEEN'S vow. 
 
 and despair, equal to mine, be your portion ; dead, may you 
 never rest in the earth you sprung from 1 And, when stand- 
 ing before the judgment-seat of God, you sue for pardon, 
 may He hurl your miserable soul back to perdition for an 
 answer 1 May my curse descend to your children and 
 children's children forever! May misery here and here- 
 after be their portion ! May every earthly and eternal evil 
 follow a wronged mother's curse 1 " 
 
 Appalled, horrified, the iron earl shrunk back from that 
 awful, ghastly look, and that convulsive, terrific face — that 
 face of a fiend, and not of mortal woman. A moment after, 
 when he raised his head, he was alone, and the gipsy, Ke- 
 tura, was gone. Whither ? 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 
 
 m 
 
 [•nJ 
 
 ** Oh, my son, Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ! Would to God, 
 I might die for thee ! Oh ! Absalom ! my son, my son I ' 
 
 That same night ; that night of storm and tempest with- 
 out, and still fiercer storm and tempest within ; that same 
 night — three hours later; in a narrow, dark, noisome cell, 
 with grated window and iron-barred door, with a rude pallet 
 of straw comprising the furniture, and one flickering, uncer- 
 tain lamp lighting its tomb-like darkness, sat two young men. 
 
 One of these was a youth of three-and-twenty ; tall and 
 slender in form, with a dark, clear complexion ; a strikingly- 
 handsome face ; a fierce, flashing eye of fire ; thick, cluster- 
 ing curls of jet ; a daring, reckless air, and an expression 
 of mingled scorn, hatred, defiance and fierceness in his face. 
 There were fetters on his slender wrists and ankles, and he 
 wore the degrading dress of a condemned felon. 
 
 By his side sat Lord Ernest Villiers — his handsome face 
 looking deeply sad and grave. 
 
 "And this is all, Germaine ? " he said, sorrowfully. 
 *' Can I do nothing at all for you ? " 
 
 "Nothing. What do you' think I want? Is not the 
 
fa 
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 
 
 31 
 
 , may you 
 en stand- 
 pardon, 
 Dn for an 
 Iren and 
 ind here- 
 ernal evil 
 
 rem that 
 ice — that 
 lent after, 
 ipsy, Ke- 
 
 el to God, 
 
 nl' 
 
 )est with' 
 lat same 
 Dme cell, 
 ide pallet 
 ig, uncer- 
 ung men. 
 
 tall and 
 trikingly- 
 c, cluster- 
 tpression 
 
 his face. 
 s, and he 
 
 )me face 
 
 rowfully. 
 
 not the 
 
 SAJ 
 
 government, in its fatherly care, going to clothe, feed, and 
 provide for me during the remainder of my mortal life ? 
 Why, man, do you think me unreasonable? " 
 
 He laughed a bitter, mocking laugh, terrible to hear. 
 
 " Germaine, Heaven knows, if I could do anyt^mg for 
 you, I would ! " said Lord Villiers, excitedly. " My father, 
 like all the rest of the world, believes you guilty, and I cari 
 do nothing. But if it will be any consolation, remember 
 that you leave one in England who still believes you inno- 
 cent." 
 
 " Thank you, Villiers. There is another, too, who, I 
 think, will hardly believe I have taken to petty pilfering, 
 your father and the rest of the magnates of the land to the 
 contrary, notwithstanding." 
 
 " Who is that, Germaine ? " 
 
 " My mother." 
 
 "Where is she? Can I bring her to you?" said Lord 
 Villiers, starting up. 
 
 " You are very kind ; but it is not in your power to do 
 so," said the prisoner, quietly. " My mother is probably in 
 Yetholm with her tribe. You don't need to be told now I 
 am a gipsy ; my interesting family history was pretty gener- 
 ally made known at my trial." 
 
 Again he laughed that short, sarcastic laugh so sad to 
 hear. 
 
 " My dear fellow, I think none the worse of you for that 
 Gipsy or Saxon, I cannot forget you once saved my life, 
 and that you have for years been my best friend." 
 
 " Well, it is pleasant to know that there is one in the 
 world who cares for me ; and if I do die like a dog among 
 my fellow-convicts, my last hour will be cheered by the 
 thought," said the young man, drawing a deep breath. " If 
 ever you see my mother, which is not likely, tell her I was 
 grateful for all she did for me ; you need not tell her I 
 was innocent, for she will know that. There is another, 
 too—" 
 
 He paused, and his dark face flushed, and then grew 
 paler than before. 
 
 " My dear Germaine, if there is any message I can carry 
 
 for VOU, VOU have onlv tn rommanH mf> " cdid thf» irminor 
 
 I 
 
 lord, 
 
 warmly. 
 
K]k':jliclk.^, .m. 'L. ^M.%mM. 
 
 •aiwa 
 
 3-^ 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i 
 
 ill 
 
 m 
 
 " No ; it is as well she should not know it — better, per- 
 haps," nuittered the prisoner, half to himself. " I thank 
 you for your friendly kindness, Villiers ; but it will not be 
 necessarv." 
 
 " And your mother, Geruiaine, how am I to know her .-• " 
 
 '• Oh, 1 forgot 1 Well, she's called the gipsy Ketura, and 
 is qiiocii of her tribe. It is something to be a queen's son 
 is it not .'' " he said, with another hard, short laugh. 
 
 " Ketura, did you say ? " repeated Lord Villiers, in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes. What has surprised you now ? " 
 
 "Why, the simple fact that I saw her three hours ago." 
 
 " Saw her 1 Where ? " 
 
 " At my father's house. She came to see him." 
 
 Germaine sprung up, and while his eyes fiercely flashed, 
 he exclaimed : 
 
 " Came to see Lord De Courcy ? My mother came to see 
 him ? Villiers, you do not mean to say that my mother came 
 to beg for my life ? " 
 
 " My dear fellow, I really do not know. The inter ''ew 
 was a private one. All I do know is, that half an hour nAer 
 my father returned among his guests, looking very much as 
 if he had just seen a ghost. In fact, I nevir saw him with 
 so startled a look in all my life before. Whether your 
 mother had anything to do with it or not, I really cannot 
 say." 
 
 " If I thought she could stoop to sue for me," exclaimed 
 the youth, through his clenched teeth ; " br:t no, my mother 
 was too proud to do it. My poor, poor mo.'i.er 1 How was 
 she looking, Villiers ? " 
 
 " Very haggard, very thin, very worn and wild ; very 
 wretched, in a word — though that was to be expected." 
 
 " Poor mother I " murmured the youth, with quivering 
 lips, as he bowed his face in his manacled hands, and his 
 manly chest rose and fell with strong emotion. 
 
 " My dear fellow," said Lord Villiers, with tears in his 
 own eyes. " your mother shall never want while I live." 
 The prisoner wrung his hand in silence. 
 
 " If you like, I will try to discover her, and send her to 
 you before you — " «- 
 
 His voice choked, and he stopped. 
 
7. 
 
 MOTHER AND SON. 
 
 33 
 
 i — better, per- 
 f. " I thank 
 it will not be 
 
 know her ? " 
 y Ketura, and 
 I queen's son 
 ugh. 
 lUiers, in sur- 
 
 hours ago." 
 
 im." 
 
 ircely flashed, 
 
 it came to see 
 mother came 
 
 rhe inter''ew 
 an hour nOer 
 very much as 
 aw him w'.th 
 Whether your 
 really cannot 
 
 e," exclaimed 
 0, my mother 
 
 r 1 How was 
 
 1 wild; very 
 ipected." 
 ith quivering 
 inds, and his 
 
 tears in his 
 ; I live." 
 
 send her to 
 
 «* My dear Villicrs, you have indeed proven yourself my 
 friend," said the convict, gratefully. " If you could see her, 
 and send her to me before I leave England to-morrow, you 
 would be conferring the greatest possible favor on me. 
 There are several things of which I wish to speak to her, 
 and which I cannot reveal to any one else — not even to you." 
 
 " Then I will instantly go in search of her," said Lord 
 Villiers, rising and taking his hat. " My dear Germaine, 
 good by." 
 
 " Farewell, Ernest. God bless you 1 " 
 
 The hand of the peer and the gipsy met in a strong clasp, 
 but neither could speak. 
 
 And so they parted. The prison door closed between the 
 convicted felon and his high-born friend. Did either dream 
 how strangely they were destined to meet again ? With his 
 face shaded by Ins hand, the prisoner sat ; that small white 
 hand, delicate as a lady's, doomed now to the unceasing 
 labor of the convict, when a noise as of persons in alterca- 
 tion in the passage without met his ears. He raised his 
 head to listen, and recognized the gruff, hoarse voice of his 
 jailer ; then the sharp, passionate voice of a woman ; and, 
 lastly, the calm, clear tones of Lord Ernest Villiers. His 
 words seemed to decide the matter ; for the huge key turned 
 in the rusty lock, the heavy door swung back on its hinges, 
 and the tall form of gipsy Ketura passed into the cell. 
 
 " Mother I " 
 
 The prisoner started to his feet, and with a passionate 
 cry : " Oh, my son I my son ! " he was clasped in the arms 
 of his mother— clasped and held there in a fierce embrace, 
 as though she defied Heaven itself to tear them apart. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, mother, that I see you again 1 *' 
 
 " Heaven 1 " she broke out, with passionate fierceness ; 
 " never mention it again 1 What is heaven, and God, and 
 mercy, ana iiappiness ? All a mockery, and worse than a 
 mockery 1 " 
 
 " My poor mother I " 
 
 " What have I done, that I should lose you ! " she cried, 
 with a still-increasing fierceness. " What crime have I com- 
 mitted, that I should be doomed to a hell upon earth ? He 
 was conceived in sin and born in iniquity, even as I was ; 
 yet the Uod you call upon permits him to live happy, rich, 
 
mmJimk 
 
 'Ak\ 
 
 34 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 honored, and prosperous, while I-oh I it maddens me to 
 think of It I But I w.ll have revenge I "-she added, while 
 her fierce eyes blazed, and her long, bony hand clenched- 
 ' yes, fearful revenge! If I am doomed to perdition I 
 shall drag him down along with me I " 
 
 " Mother I mother I Do not talk so 1 Be calm ! " 
 
 > Calm I With these flames, like eternal fires, raging in 
 
 Zn ^o^V^irtla" Lg?.'?' '-' ''' ''- -''^ '-^^ ^^^'^'-^ 
 
 "Mother, you are going mad!" said the young man 
 almost sternly. " Unless you are calm, we must part." 
 
 Oh, yes ! We will part to-morrow. You will go over 
 the boundless sea with all the thieves, and murderers, and 
 scum of London, and I-I will live for revenge. By-and-bv 
 you wil kill yourself, and I will be hung for his murder." ^ 
 
 She laughed a dreary, cheerless laugh, while her eyes 
 grew unnaturally bnght with the fires of incipient insanity. 
 
 -Poor mother!" said the youth, sadly. "This is the 
 hardest blow of all! Try and bear up, for^ sake, mother 
 Did you see Lord De Courcy to-night .? " 
 
 "I did. May Heaven's heaviest curses light on him ! " 
 exclaimed the woman, passionately. " Oh I to think that he. 
 that any man, should hold my son's life in the hollow of his 
 hand while I am here obliged to look on, powerless to avert 
 
 Ind hcTeafteH^X '"'^' ^"^'^ "^"^^^"^^ "^^^ ^^ ^im, here 
 Her face was black with tLe terrific storm of inward pas- 
 sion ; her eves glaring, blazing, like those of z wild beast; 
 her long, talon like fingers clenched until the nails sunk deep 
 m the quivering flesh. ^ 
 
 ■ "u?^. M^^'^^"^',"^ y^*" ^^°°P to sue for pardon for me to- 
 night ? said the young man, while his brow contracted with 
 a dark frown. 
 
 T 'V^' \^l^ ' ^ ^'"^ ■ ^ g^o^eled at his '^et. I cried, I shrieked, 
 I adjured him to pardon you-I, wh. ver knelt to God oi^ 
 man before-and he refused 1 I kissed the dust at his feet, 
 and he replied by a cold refusal. But woe to thee. Earl De 
 Courcy! she cried, bounding to her feet, and dashing back 
 her wild black hair. " Woe to thee, and all thy house ! for 
 It were safer to tamper with the lightning's chain than with 
 the aroused tigress Ketura." 
 
 !i 
 
MOTHER AND SON. 
 
 Idens me to 
 
 tdded, while 
 
 clenched — 
 
 perdition, I 
 
 ml " 
 
 :s, raging in 
 
 is life-blood 
 
 'oung man, 
 
 part." 
 
 will go over 
 derers, and 
 
 By-and-by 
 murder." 
 le her eyes 
 nt insanity, 
 rhis is the 
 ike, mother. 
 
 on him 1 " 
 nk that he, 
 illow of his 
 ess to avert 
 1 him, here 
 
 nward pas- 
 
 vild beast; 
 
 sunk deep 
 
 for me to- 
 racted with 
 
 I shrieked, 
 to God or 
 at his feet, 
 e, Earl De 
 shing back 
 louse ! for 
 than with 
 
 35 
 
 " Mother, nothing is gained by working yourself up to 
 such a pitch of passion ; you only beat the air with your 
 breath. I nm calm." 
 
 "Yes calm as a volcano on the -e of eruption," she 
 
 said, looking in his gleaming eyes and icy smile. 
 
 "And I am submissive, forbearing, and forgiving." 
 
 " Yes, submissive as a crouching lion— forgiving as a 
 
 tiger robbed of its young— forbearing as a serpent prcparine- 
 
 to spring." i- r t- & 
 
 He had awed her— even her, that raving maniac— into 
 calm, by the cold, steely glitter of his dark eyes ; by the 
 quiet, chilling smile on his lip. In that fixed, iron, relentless 
 look, she read a strong, determined purpose, relentless as 
 death, or doom, or the grave ; terrific in its very quiet, im- 
 placable in its very depth of calm, overtopping and sur- 
 mounting her own. 
 
 " We undei ^tand each other, I think," he said, quietly. 
 " You perceive, mother, how utterly idle these mad threats 
 and curses of yours are. They will effect nothing but to 
 have you imprisoned as a dangerous lunatic; and it is neces- 
 sary you should be free to fulfill my last bequest." 
 
 Another mood had come over the dark, fierce woman 
 while he spoke. The demoniac look of passion that had 
 hitherto convulsed her face, gave way to one of despairing 
 sorrow, and stretching out her arms, she passionately cried : 
 " Oh, my son 1 n.j only one I the darling of my old age ! 
 my sole earthly pride and hope 1 Oh, Reginald I would to 
 God we had both died ere we had lived to see this day 1 " 
 
 It was the very agony of grief— the last passionate, 
 despairing cry of a mother's utmost woe, wrung fiercely from 
 her tortured heart. 
 
 "My poor mother— my dear mother 1" said the youth 
 with tears in his dark eyes, " do not give way to this wild 
 grief. Who knows what the future may bring forth .? " 
 
 She made no reply; but sat with both arms clasped round 
 her knees— her dry, burning, tearless eyes glaring before her 
 on vacancy. 
 
 " Do not despair, mother ; we may yet meet again. Who 
 knows ? " he said, musingly, after a pause. 
 
 She turned her red, inflnmpH pvpKqMc r>r. v,;rr. ;., ..^: i 
 
 mquiry. 
 
»»M 
 
 il-jf- itMMU- 
 
 '3±\^a 
 
 36 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 M 
 
 
 IMi 
 
 " There are such things as breaking chains and escapine. 
 mother." ^ ^' 
 
 Still that lurid, straining gaze, but no reply. 
 
 «' And I, if it be in the power of man, I shall escape— I 
 shall return, and then — " 
 
 He paused, but his eyes finished the sentence. Lucifer, 
 taking his last look of heaven, might have worn just such a 
 look— so full of relentless hate, burning revenge, and undy- 
 ing defiance. 
 
 " You may come, but I will never live to see you," said 
 the gipsy, in a voice so deep, hollow and unnatural, that it 
 seemed issuing from a tomb. 
 
 " You will — you must, mother. I have a sacred trust to 
 leave you, for which you must live," he said impetuously. 
 
 " A trust, my son ? " 
 
 "Yes. One that will demand all your care for many 
 years. You shall hear my story, mother. I would not trust 
 any living being but you ; but I can confide fearlessly in 
 you." 
 
 " You have only to name your wishes, Reginald. Though 
 I should have to wade through blood to fulfill them, fear 
 not." 
 
 "Nothing so desperate will be required, mother. The 
 less blood you have on your hands the better. My advice 
 to you is, when I am gone, to return to Yetholm, and wait 
 with patience for my return— for return I will, in spite of 
 everything. " 
 
 Her bloodshot eyes kindled fiercely with invincible deter- 
 mination as he spoke, but she said nothing. 
 
 "My story is a somewhat long one," he said, after a pause, 
 during which a sad shadow had fallen on his handsome face ; 
 " but I suppose it is necessary I should tell you all. I 
 thought never to reveal it to any human being ; but I did 
 not dream then of ever being a convicted felon, as I am 
 now." 
 
 He had been sitting hitherto with his head resting on his 
 hand ; now he arose and began pacing to and fro his narrow 
 cell, while the dark, stern woman, crouching in a distant 
 corner like a dusky shadow, watched him with her eyes of 
 fire, and prepared to hsten. 
 
THE CHII.D-WIFE. 
 
 • 11 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE CHILD-WIFE. 
 
 •• Oh, had we never, never met. 
 Or could this heart e'en now forget, 
 How linked, how blessed we might have been, 
 Had fate not frowned so dark between ! " 
 
 — Moore. 
 
 " Eight years ago, mother," began the prisoner, " I first 
 entered Eton. Through your kindness, I was provided with 
 money enough to enable me to mix on terms of equally in 
 all things with the highest of its high-born students. No 
 one dreamed I was a gipsy ; they would as soon have thought 
 of considering themselves one as me. I adopted the name 
 of Reginald Germaine, and represented myself as the son of 
 an exiled French count, and being by Nature gifted with a 
 tolerable share of good looks, and any amount of cool assur- 
 ance, I soon worked my way up above most of my titled 
 compeers, and became ringleader and prime favorite with 
 students and professors. They talk of good blood showing 
 itself equally in men as in horses, mother. I don't know 
 how that may be, but certain it is the gipsy's son equaled 
 all, and was surpassed by none in college. In fencing, 
 shooting, riding, boxing, rowing, I was as much at home as 
 reading Virgil or translating Greek. If it is any consolation 
 to you, mother, to know what an exceedingly talented son 
 you have," he said, with a bitter smile, " all this will be very 
 consoling to you— more especially as Latin, and Greek, and 
 all the rest of my manifold accomplishments will be extremely 
 necessary to me among my fellow-convicts in Van Dieman's 
 Land. It is very probable I will establish an infant school 
 for young thieves and pickpockets when the day's labor is 
 over. I wonder if our kind, fatherly, far-seeing British gov- 
 ernment dreams whal- an inf>nl/-i,1nKlo <-^^«o,.-« *x,«— 
 
 m the person of Germaine, the convicted burglar I " 
 
M.-^ 
 
 :aiwn 
 
 38 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 His bitter, jeering tone was terrible to hear; but the dark 
 burning glare o his fierce eyes was more terrible still. Oh' 
 It was a dreadful fate to look forward to-a chained, manacled 
 convict for ife~and so unjustly condemned I With his 
 fierce, g.psy blood, is it any wonder that every noble and 
 generous feeling in his breast should turn to gall ? 
 
 Ihe dusky form crouching in the corner moved not 
 
 tTo'r'ec^^t collf "''"'' '^" ^'^"' ^" '""^ ^^^^^ '^^e 
 " Well, mother I was boasting of my cleverness when I 
 interrupted myself-was I not .? " he said, after a nause 
 during which he had been pacing. like a caged iion,\,rand 
 down •' It IS an exciting subject, you perceive ; and if I 
 getahttle incoherent at times, you must only pa. s it over 
 and wait until I come to the point. That brief lrJ>ose o? my 
 standing m the school was necessary, after all, as it will help 
 to show the sort of estimation I was held in. When the 
 vacations came, numberless were the invitations I received 
 to accompany my fellow-students home. Having no home 
 of my own to go to, I need hardly say those invitations were 
 mvanaWy accepted. How the good people who so lavbh y 
 bestowed their hospitality upon me feel now, is a ques ion 
 not very hard to answer. I fancy I can see the looks of 
 horror, amazement and outraged dignity that will fill some 
 o. those aristocratic mansions, when they learn that the dash- 
 ing son and heir of the exiled Count Germaine, on whom 
 they have condescended to smile so benignly, is no other 
 than the convicted gipsy thief. It will be a regular farce to 
 witness, mother." ^ 
 
 He laughed, but the grim, shadowy face in the corner was 
 as immovable as a figure in stone. 
 
 "Among the friends I made at Eton," he went on, "there 
 was one-a fi^ne, princely-hearted fellow about my own age 
 ---called Lord Everly. He was my 'fag ' for a time, and, 
 owing to a similarity of tastes and dispositions, we were 
 soon inseparable friends. Wherever one was, there the 
 otHer was sure to be, until we were nicknamed ' Damon and 
 i-ythias by the rest. Of course, the first vacation after his 
 coming, I received a pressing invitation to accompany him 
 home; and, without requiring much coaxing, I went." 
 The young man paused, and a dark, earnest shadow 
 
n 
 
 W. 
 
 ; but the dark, 
 rible still. Oh, 
 lined, manacled 
 -dl With his 
 'ery noble and 
 gall ? 
 
 er moved not, 
 e darkness like 
 
 erness when I 
 after a pause, 
 d lion, up and 
 eive ; and if I 
 y pass it over, 
 ;f expose of my 
 as it will help 
 n. When the 
 ons I received 
 ving no home 
 vitations were 
 ho so lavishly 
 is a question 
 the looks of 
 will fill some 
 that the dash- 
 ine, on whom 
 ', is no other 
 gular farce to 
 
 lie corner was 
 
 nt on, " there 
 : my own age 
 ■ a time, and, 
 )ns, we were 
 s, there the 
 ' Damon and 
 tion after his 
 :ompany him 
 went." 
 lest shadow 
 
 THE CHILD- WIFE. 
 
 39 
 
 agam 
 
 resumed, his 
 
 passed over his fine face. When 
 voice was low and less bitter. 
 
 " I met my fate there, mother— the star of my destiny, 
 that rose, for a few brief, fleeting moments, and then set 
 forever for me. I was a hot-blooded, hot-headed, hotter- 
 hearted boy of nineteen then, who followed the impulse of 
 his own headstrong passions wherever they chose to lead, 
 without ever stopping to think. At Everly Hall I met the 
 cousm of my friend— one of the most perfectly beautiful 
 creatures it has ever been my lot to see. Only fourteen 
 years of age, she was so well-grown, and so superbly-propor- 
 tioned, as to be, in looks, already a woman ; and a woman's 
 heart she already possessed. Her name, mother, it is not nec- 
 essary to tell now. Suffice it to say, that name was one of 
 the proudest of England's proud sons, and her family one of 
 the highest and noblest in the land. She was at Everly 
 Hall, spending her vacation, too, and daily we were thrown to- 
 gether. I had never loved before— never felt even those first 
 moonlight-on-water affairs that most young men rave about. 
 My nature is not one of those that love lightly ; but it was 
 as resistless, as impetuous, as fierce and consuming as a vol- 
 cano's fire, when it came. Mother, I did not love that beau- 
 tiful child-woman. Love I Pshaw I that is a cold word to 
 express what I felt— every moonstruck youth prates about 
 his love. No ; I adored, I worshipped, I idolized her ; the 
 remembrance of who I was, of who she was— all were as 
 walls of smoke before the impetuosity of that first consum- 
 ing passion. The Everlys never dreamed— never, in the 
 remotest degree, fancied— I, the son of an exiled count, could 
 dare to lift my eyes to one whom a prince of the blood-royal 
 might almost have wed without stooping. They had confi- 
 dence in her, the proud daughter cf a proud race, to think 
 she would spurn me from her in contempt, did I dare to 
 breathe my wild passion. But how litde, in their cool, clear- 
 headed calculations, did they dream that social position and 
 worldly considerations were as a cobweb barrier before the 
 impetuosity of first love 1 
 
 " And so, secure in the difference between us in rank, the 
 Everlys permitted their beautiful niece to ride, walk, dance 
 and drive with the gay, agreeable son of the exiled Count 
 Germaine. Oh ! those long, breezy morning rides, over the 
 
:^ivn 
 
 40 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 sloping hills and wide lawns that environed the home of the 
 H-verlys ! I can see her now, as side by side we rode home- 
 ward-Idnnking in, until every sense was intoxicated, the 
 bevv.ldenng draught of her beauty, as she sat on her oa" 
 black pony, her dark riding-habit fluttering in the morning 
 bree^e; her cheek flushed with health and happiness Te? 
 brdl.ant eyes more glorious to me than all the sta s in 
 
 sunlight O those long, moonlight strolls, arm-in-arm 
 through the wilderness of roses, not half so beiutiful as "e' 
 
 r^rdensYtirtr'^^ "^'r^' ^^ wim luxurrancV •: 
 
 tne gardens 1 Oh! those enchanting evenings, when, en- 
 circled by my arm, we kept time together to^he delh^ious 
 music of the voluptuous waltz. Then it was, there It was 
 
 of" tSrn^ri:^' ^^°^' ^"^ '"^^ ''^ ^^^^-^- ^-^^t^^ 
 - For mother, even as I loved her she loved me. No 
 not as I oved her-it was not in her nature to do that but 
 with all the passionate ardor of a f^rst, strong passion. I 
 had ong known I was not indifferent to her ; buf when one 
 night, as I stood bending over her as she sLt at the piano 
 and heard her stately lady-aunt whisper to a friend thaHn a 
 few more years, her 'lovely and accomplished niece ' would 
 become the bride of Lord Ernest VilliLs, only son of Earl 
 
 S^Mn"'"^' l'^"' ^"^ ^^^''''' restrained me from telling 
 that ove was forgotten. I saw her start, and turn pale a! 
 she too, heard and caught the quick, anxious glances she 
 cas at me. All I felt at that moment must hfve been re' 
 vealed in my face for her eyes fell beneath mine, and the 
 hot blood mounted to her very brow. 
 
 " ' And you are engaged to another ? ' I said, in a tone 
 of passionate reproach. ' Oh, why did I not kno^ this ? ' 
 
 It is no engagement of my making,' she said, in a low 
 trembling voice ' I never saw Lord Villiers, nir he me' 
 Our fathers wish we should marry, that is all ' 
 
 ;| ; And will you obey ? ' I said, in a thrilling whisper. 
 No,' she said, impulsively ; « never.' 
 .1i"tT^^1?vu ^^^ accompanied the words made me forget 
 IvL^f ^ ° '*"''^" ^"^ remember. In an instant I was 
 at her feet, pouring out my wild tale of nassion • in .r.^,u^. 
 sne was m my arms, whispering the words that made me the 
 
•"""•••' ririniiiiiiliiil 
 
 le home of the 
 we rode home- 
 titoxicated, the 
 it on her coal- 
 n the morning 
 appiness ; her 
 the stars in 
 k the radiant 
 s, arm-in-arm, 
 ;autiful as the 
 luxuriance in 
 IS, when, en- 
 the deHcious 
 there it was, 
 )orn daughter 
 
 ed me. No, 
 
 ) do that, but 
 
 : passion. I 
 
 >ut when, one 
 
 at the piano, 
 
 ind that, in a 
 
 niece ' would 
 
 son of Earl 
 
 from telling 
 
 turn pale as 
 
 glances she 
 
 lave been re- 
 
 ine, and the 
 
 id, in a tone 
 ow this ? ' 
 id, in a low, 
 nor he me. 
 
 r^hisper. 
 
 e me forget 
 istant I was 
 
 in annfJ-iof 
 "" - ••••^) 
 
 aade me the 
 
 THE CHILD- WIFE. 
 
 41 
 
 happiest man on earth. It was well for us both the room 
 was nearly deserted, and the corner where we were in deepest 
 shadow, or the ecstasies into which, like all lovers, we went, 
 would have led to somewhat unpleasant consequences. But 
 our destinies had decreed we should, for the time, have 
 things all our own way ; and that Might, wandering in the 
 pale, solemn moonlight, I urged, with all the eloquence of a 
 first, resistless passion, a secret marriage. I spoke of her 
 father's compelling us to part ; of his insisting on her mar- 
 riage with one whom she could not love ; I drew a touching 
 description of myself, devoted to a life of solitude and misery, 
 and probably ending by committing suicide— which melan- 
 choly picture so worked upon her fears, that I verily believe 
 she would have fled with me to New South Wales, had I 
 asked it. And so I pleaded, with all the ardor of a passion 
 that was as strong and uncontrollable as it was selfish and 
 exacting, until she promised, the following night, to steal 
 secretly out and fly with me to where I was to have a clergy- 
 man in waiting, and then and there become my wife." 
 
 Once more he paused, and his fine eyes were full of bitter 
 self-reproach now. 
 
 " Mother, that was the turning-point in my destiny. Look- 
 ing back to that time now, I can wish I had been struck 
 dead sooner than have hurried, as I did, that impulsive, 
 warm-hearted girl into that fatal marriage. T/ie;i, in all the 
 burning ardor of youth, I thought of nothing but the intoxi- 
 cating happiness within my grasp ; and had an angel from 
 heaven pleaded for the postponement of my designs, I would 
 have hurled a refusal back in his face. I thought only of 
 the present— of the joy, too intense, almost, to be borne— 
 and I steadily shut my eyes to the future. I knew she 
 would loathe, hate, and despise me, if she ever discovered— 
 as discover she must some day— how I had deceived her ; 
 for, with all her love for me, she inherited the pride and 
 haughtiness of her noble house uncontaminated. Had she 
 known who I really was, I know she would have considered 
 me unworthy to touch even the hem of her garment. 
 
 "All that day she remained in her room; while I rode off 
 to a neighboring town to engage a clergyman to unite us at 
 the appointed hour. Midnight found me waiting, at the 
 trysting-place ; and true to the hour, my beautiful bride. 
 
MMW^Jgwasfs g^^llll 
 
 :^ivn 
 
 42 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I 
 
 brave in the strength of her love and woman's faith in mv 
 honor, met me there, alone; for I would have no attendants 
 to share our confidence. 
 
 " Two horses stood waiting. I lifted her into the saddle 
 sprung upon my own horse ; and away we dashed, at a 
 break-neck pace, to consummate our own future miserv 
 1 here was no time for words ; but I strove to whisper of 
 the happy days in store for us, as we rode along. She did 
 not utter a word; but her face was whiter than that of the 
 dead when I lifted her from the saddle and drew her with 
 me into the church. 
 
 '' The great aisles were dimly lighted by one solitary lamp, 
 and by its light we beheld the clergyman, standing, in full 
 canonicals, to sanction our mad marriage. Robed in a 
 dark flowing dress, with her white face looking out from 
 Jier damp, flowing, midnight hair I can see her before me 
 as slie stood there, shivering at intervals with a strange 
 presaging of future evil. ^ 
 
 ''It was an ominous bridal, mother ; for, as the last words 
 died away, and we were pronounced man and wife, the harsh, 
 dreadful croak of a raven resounded through the vast, dim 
 church, and the ghostly bird of omen fluttered for a moment 
 over our heads, and fell dead at our feet. Excited by the 
 
 V^JZT?n '^ u '\^ 'T ^''•"S ^'^°"g 5 the solemn, un- 
 lighted old church ; the dread, mystic hour-all proved too 
 much for my little child-wife, and with a piercing shriek, she 
 fell fainting in my arms. Mother, the unutterable reproach 
 of that wild agonizing cry will haunt me to my dying 
 
 No words can describe the bitterness of his tone, the un- 
 ^;^i'^u"'^P5°^^^ t^^^t filled his dark eyes, as he spoke. 
 
 We bore her to the vestry; but it was long before she 
 revived, and longer still before, with all the seductive elo- 
 
 "^""."^u TF''''''rf^^ ^°'^^' ^ ^°"^^ ^o°the her into quiet. 
 
 Uh Reginald, I have done wrong! ' washer sorrowful 
 remorseful cry to all I could say. 
 
 " ^^ P^^? !'^^ clergyman, and rode home— the gipsy youth 
 and the high born lady, united for life now by the my/terious 
 tie of marriage. Now that the last, desperate step was 
 taken, even I grew for a moment appalled at what I had 
 uone. Lut I did not repent No ; had it been again to do 
 
 U4 
 
m 
 
 w. 
 
 n's faith in rny 
 e no attendants 
 
 into the saddle, 
 ; dashed, at a 
 future misery, 
 to whisper of 
 long. She did 
 lan t!iat of the 
 drew her with 
 
 ; soHtary hinip, 
 anding, in full 
 Robed in a 
 king out from 
 ler before me, 
 nth. a strange 
 
 the last words 
 /ife, the harsh, 
 the vast, dim 
 for a moment 
 Ixcited by the 
 e solemn, un- 
 all proved too 
 ng shriek, she 
 able reproach 
 to my dying 
 
 tone, the un- 
 i he spoke, 
 ig before she 
 seductive elo- 
 nto quiet, 
 ler sorrowful, 
 
 le gipsy youth 
 le mysterious 
 ate step was 
 t what I had 
 1 again to do 
 
 THE CHILD- WIFE. 
 
 43 
 
 i 
 
 % 
 
 I would have 
 
 I would have done it over a thousand times, 
 lost heaven sooner than her I 
 
 " Three weeks longer we continued inmates of Everly Hall • 
 and no one ever suspected that we met other than as casual 
 acquamtances. Looking back now on my past life, those 
 are the only days of unalloyed sunshine I can remember in 
 the whole course of my life ; and she— she, too, closed her 
 eyes to the future, and was for the time being perfectly 
 
 " But the time came when we were forced to part. She 
 went back to school, while I returned to London I met 
 her frequently, at first ; hv* her father, after a time, began to 
 think, perhaps, that, for the son of an exiled count, I was 
 makmg too rapid progress in his daughter's affections, and 
 peremptorily ordered her to discontinue the acquaintance. 
 But she loved me well enough to disobey him ; and though 
 I saw she looked forward with undisguised terror to the 
 time when the revelation of our marriage would be made 
 we still continued to meet at long intervals. 
 
 "So a year passed. One day, wishing to consult her 
 about something— I forget what— we met at an appointed 
 trysting place. She entered the light chaise I had brought 
 with me, and we drove off. The horses were half tamed 
 things at best, and in the outskirts of a little village, several 
 miles from the academy, they took fright at something, and 
 started off like the wind. I strove in vain to check them 
 On they flew, like lightning, until suddenly coming in con- 
 tact with a garden-fence, the chaise was overthrown, and we 
 were both flung violently out. 
 
 ''I heard a faint cry from my companion, and, unheeding 
 a broken arm, which was my share of the accident I man- 
 aged to raise her from the ground, where she lay senseless, 
 and bear her into the cottage. Fortunately, the cotta-e was 
 owned by an old widow, to whom I had once rendered some 
 slight service which secured her everlasting gratitude ; and 
 more fortunately still, my companion had received no injury 
 from her fall, beyond a slight wound in the head. 
 
 " Leaving her in the care of the old woman, I went to the 
 nearest surgeon, had my wounds dressed, and my horses 
 disposea oi unLii such times as we could resume our'journey. 
 Ihen I returned to the cottage; but found to my great 
 
»Sfi~ir^~Effir 
 
 ;ai.iwflu: 
 
 44 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ei 
 
 lr.':i 
 
 *1 
 
 alarm that my wife, during my absence, had become 
 seriously ill, and was raving in the wild delirium of a burn- 
 mg fever. 
 
 " There was no doctor in the village whose skill I could 
 trust where her life was concerned ; and, half-mad with ter- 
 ror and alarm, I sprung on horseback, and rode off to Lon- 
 don for medical aid. But with all my haste, nearly twelve 
 hours elapsed before I could return accompanied by a skill- 
 ful though obscure physician, chosen by me because he was 
 obscure, and never likely to meet her acrain 
 
 "As I entered, the feeble wail of an^inf ant struck on nw 
 ear ; and the first object on which my eyes rested as I went 
 in, was the old woman sitting with a babe in her arms, while 
 the child-mother lay still unconscious, as I had left her 
 
 " Mother, what I felt at that moment words can never dis- 
 close. Discovery now seemed inevitable. She must wake 
 to the knowledge that he for whom she had given up everv- 
 thing was a gipsy; that her child bore in its veins the 
 tainted gipsy blood. Disowned and despised by all her 
 high-born friends, she would hate me for the irretrievable 
 wrong I had done her ; and to lose her was worse than death 
 to me. "v-im 
 
 " The intense anguish and remorse ^ endured at that mo- 
 ment, might have atoned for a darker crime than mine I 
 had never felt so fully, before, the wrong I had done her- 
 and with the knowledge of its full enormity, came the resolul 
 tion of making all the atonement in my power. 
 
 " The doctor had pronounced her illness severe, but not 
 dangerous ; and said that with careful nursing she would 
 soon be restored to health. When he was gone, I turned to 
 the old woman, and inquired if she was willing to undertake 
 the care of the child. The promise of being well pa^d made 
 her readily answer in the affirmative ; and then we concluded 
 a bargain that she was to take care of the infant, and keen 
 Its existence a secret from every one, and, above all, from 
 Its mother. For I knew that she would never consent to 
 give It up and I was resolved that it should not be the 
 means of dragging her down to poverty and disgrace The 
 woman was to keep it out of her sight while she remained 
 and tell her it had died, should she makp any inq-i-"-'- 
 
 " During the next week, I scarcely ever left the'cottage- 
 
THE CHII,D-WIFE. 45 
 
 and when she was sufficiently recovered to use a pen, she 
 wrote a few lines to the principal of the academy, saying she 
 had gone to visit a friend, and would not return for a fort- 
 night, at len?n As she had ever been a petted child, ac- 
 customed to 40 and come unquestioned, her absence excited 
 no surprisf; or suspicion ; and secreted in the cottage, she 
 remained for the next two week? How the old woman 
 managed to conceal the child I know not ; but certain it is, 
 she did it. 
 
 " The time I had dreaded came at last. My better nature 
 had awoke since the birth of my child ; and I resolved to 
 tell her all, cost what it might, and set her free. Mother, 
 you can conceive the bitter humiliation such a confession 
 must have been to me— yet I made it. I told her all; how 
 basely I had deceived her ; how deeply I had wronged her. 
 In that moment, ev^ry spark of love she had ever felt for 
 me was quenched forever in her majestic indignation, her 
 scorn, and utter contempt. Silently she arose and confronted 
 me, white as the dead, superb in her withering scorn, as far 
 above me as the heavens from the earth. All the pride of 
 her proud race swelled in her breast, in a loathing too deep 
 and intense for words. But those steady, darkening 
 eyes, that seemed scintillating sparks of iire, I will neve? 
 forget. 
 
 " ' Here we must part, then, Reginald Germaine ; and on 
 this earth we must never meet again 1 ' she said, in a voice 
 steady from its very depth of scorn. ' Of the matchless 
 wrong you have done me, I will not speak ; it is too late for 
 that now. If one spark of the honor you once professed 
 still lingers in your breast, be silent as regards the past. I 
 ask no more. You have forever blighted my life ; but the 
 world need never know what we once were to each oth«-. 
 If money is any object '—and her beautiful lip curled with a 
 contempt too intense for words — ' you shall have half my 
 wealth — the whole of it, if you will— if it only buys your 
 silence. I will return to school, and try to forget the unut- 
 terable degradation into which I have sunk. You go your 
 own wa -, and we are strangers from henceforth 1 ' 
 
 " Mother 1 mother I such was our parting ; in scorn and 
 hatred on one side ; in utter despair and undvin"- remorse 
 on the other. That day she returned to school ;''l fled,\o 
 
wi*»>»ji 
 
 ~Bm£r%rs:~rmj 
 
 ■m vn 
 
 ■ 
 
 46 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 drown thought in the maddening whirl and tumult of Lon- 
 don ; and we have never met since. She is unmarried stiH 
 and the re.gnmg belle of every gilded salon in London -bt' 
 I knovv she never will, never can. forget the abyss of humili 
 tion into which I dragged her dow.i. For her sake to in- 
 sure her happiness, I would willingly end this wretched ex- 
 istence, but that I must live for what is so dear to the cipsv 
 heart-revenge With all her lofty pride, what she will f^ee^ 
 in knowing she is the wife of a convicted felon God an 1 hpr 
 own heart alone will ever know." ^^^ 
 
 He threw himself into a seat, and shading his face witL 
 his hands, sat silent; but the convulsive heav ng of s 
 strong chest, his short, hard breathing, told, more than 
 words could ever do, what he felt at that moment And tiH 
 the dusky shadow in the duskier corner sat silently glaring 
 upon him with those red, lurid eyes of flame ^ ^ 
 
 "To tell you this story, to commit my child to your charee 
 I wished to see you to-night, mother," he said at las? wifh 
 out looking up ;< She does not dream of its tistence he' 
 was told It died the hour of its birth, and was buried ^hile 
 she was still unconscious. In this pocketbook you will find 
 
 Xrt'Zl'Z'r''''' '''''' ^^^P^'^' t-" her the count 
 —tor a'^ such she knows me— sent you for it Take it v.itu 
 
 you to Yetholm, mother; try to 'think it" is your Ton 
 n^ert'm^ofe'' ^^" ''' "^'''-''^ ^^^^^ uUyoumTy' 
 
 sp'c;"aUyeTKt ^'' '" '^^'' '"^"^"^ ^^^ «^ ^hose 
 
 hpl?^°^!i^ V ^?" """'^ ^"^"^^ "'^ "°^'" he said, lifting his 
 head and looking sorrowfully in her rigi." haggard face 
 'for the few hours that are left me, I would like ^o be alone' 
 It IS better for us both that we part now " 
 
 "I will not go 1 " said a voice so hollow, so unnatural 
 1 T T^u '^ '''"' ^•'^"^ ^he jaws of death. 'Tw 11 not 
 rom youtw.'- ^^" ^"' '''''' ^"^ ^°^ ^--^^' ^o tear m" 
 
 " Mother, it is my wish," he said, calmly 
 
 " Yours, Reginald ? " she cried, in a voice of unutterable 
 reproach. " You wish that I should leave you ? For fifteen 
 years I have given you up, and in one short hour you tTre 
 of me now. Oh. Re- nnlrl ^^ .... ! __ , „ ^^^ "^^ 
 
 :ilUi 
 
 1, my son I my son 1 
 
THE CHILD- WIFE. 
 
 It of Lon- 
 rried still, 
 iclon ; but 
 'f humilia- 
 ike, to in- 
 itched ex- 
 the gipsy 
 2 will feel 
 d and her 
 
 face with 
 ? of h's 
 ore than 
 And still 
 y glaring 
 
 r charge, 
 ist, with- 
 ice; she 
 ed while 
 will find 
 le count 
 ; it with 
 ur son, 
 ^ou may 
 
 f those 
 
 ing his 
 i face ; 
 i alone. 
 
 latural, 
 A'ill not 
 ear me 
 
 terable 
 
 fifteen 
 
 ou tire 
 
 47 
 
 No words can describe the piercing anguish, the utter 
 woe, that rived that wild cry up from her tortured heart. 
 
 He came over, and laid his small, delicate hand on hers, 
 hard, coarse, and black with sun, wind and toil. 
 
 « Listen to me, my mother ! " And his low, calm, soothing 
 tones were m strong contrast to her impassioned voice. " I 
 am not ti.ed of you— you wrong me by thinking so ; but I 
 have letters to write, and many matters to arrange before to- 
 morrow's sun rises. I am tired, too, and want ^r rest ; for 
 It IS a long time oince sleep has visited my eyes, mother." 
 
 " Sleep," she bitterly echoed ; " and whe. do you think I 
 have slept. Look at these sunken eyes, this ghastly face 
 this haggard form, and ask when I have slept. Think of 
 the mighty wrong I have suffered, and ask when I shall sleep 
 again." ^ 
 
 " My poor, unhappy mother I " 
 
 " Ife can sleep," she broke out, with a low, wild lauglV.^ 
 " Oh, yes I in his bed of down, with his princely son mider 
 the same roof, with menials to come at his beck, he can 
 sleep. Yes, he sleeps now I but the hour comes when that 
 sleep shall last forever I Then my eyes may close, but never 
 before I " 
 
 "You are delirious, mother; this blow has turned your 
 brain." ^ 
 
 She rose to her feet, her tall, gaunt form looming up in 
 the shadowy darkness; her wild black hair streaming di- 
 sheveled down her back ; her fierce eyes blazing with de- 
 moniacal light, one long, be ly arm raised and pointing to 
 heaven. Dark, fierce and stern, she looked like some 
 dread priestess of doom, invoking the wrath of Heaven on 
 the world. 
 
 " Delirious, am I ?" she said, in her deep, bell-like tones, 
 that echoed strangely in the silent cell. " If undying hate 
 if unresting vengeance, if revenge that will never be satiated 
 but by his misery, be delirium, then I am mad. I leave you 
 now, Reginald, since such is your command ; and remember, 
 when far away, you leave one behind you who will wreak 
 fearful vengeance for all we have both suffered." 
 
 " Mother, Lord De Courcy is not so much to blame a'ter 
 
 all, since he be'ie"e«i r>">" ^vi, ;]«■•.» t -,~. a. -i i • 
 
 , ^j-iivv. -ic uc;-.c.c.>> !..., ^v,ii..jr. i am liut ulurnica Dy your 
 
itf«iir~i. JK. iivui 
 
 ;aiva 
 
 48 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 '3 
 
 M 
 
 wild threats ; for I know, in the course of time, this mad 
 hate will grow less." 
 
 " Never— never I " she fiercely hissed through her clenched 
 teeth. " May God forget me if I ever forget my vow I Re- 
 ginald, if I thought that rnan could go to heaven, and I by 
 some impossibility could be saved, too, I would take a dagger 
 and send my soul to perdition, sooner than go there with 
 him." 
 
 Upturned in the red light of the lamp, her face, as she 
 spoke, was the face of a demon. 
 
 " Strong hate, stronger than death ! " he said, half to him- 
 self, as he gazed on that fiendish face. " Farewell, then, 
 mother. Will you fulfill my last request ? " 
 
 " About your child i* — yes." 
 
 " Thank you, dearest mother. If so lost a wretch as I 
 am dare invoke Heaven, I would ask its blessings on you." 
 
 "Ask no blessing for me I" she fiercely broke in. «' I 
 would hurl it back in the face of the angels, did they offer 
 
 Folding her mantle around her, she knotted the handker- 
 chief, that had fallen off, under her chin, and stood ready to 
 depart. The young man went to the door, and knocked 
 loudly. A moment after, the tramp of heavy feet was heard 
 in the corridor approaching the door. 
 
 "It is the jailer to let you out. Once more, good-by, 
 mother." 
 
 She was hard, and stern, and rigid now ; and there were 
 no tears in her dry, stony, burning eyes, as she turned to 
 take a last farewell of the son she idolized — the son she 
 might never see again. His eyes were dim, but her tears 
 were turned to sparks of fire. 
 
 Without a word she pressed one hot, burning kiss on his 
 handsome brow ; and then the door opened, and she flitted 
 out in the darkness like an evil shadow. The heavy door 
 again swung to ; the key turned in the lock ; the son was 
 alone in his condemned cell ; and the maniac mother, out 
 once more in the beating rain and chill night wind, was lost 
 in the great wilderness of mighty London. 
 
THE MOTHER'S DESPAIR. 
 
 49 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE mother's despair. 
 
 *' Go, when the hunter's hand hath wrung 
 I'^roni forest-cave her shrieking young, 
 And calm the lonely lioness — 
 But soothe not, mock not, my distress." 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 AwAV through the driving storm — through the deepening 
 darkness of coming morn — through the long, bleak, gusty 
 streets — through alleys, and courts, and lanes ; whirled on 
 like a leaf in the blast that knows not, cares not, whither it 
 goes, sped the gipsy queen Ketura. There were not many 
 abroad at that hour ; but those she passed paused in terror, 
 and gazed after the towering form, with the wild face and 
 wilder eyes, that flew past like a lost soul returning to Hades. 
 She stood on London bridge, and, leaning over, looked down 
 on the black, sluggish waters beneath, ^any lights were 
 twinkling here and there upon the numerous barges rising 
 and falling heavily on the long, lazy swell, but the river else- 
 where lay wrapped in the blackness of Tartarus. One 
 plunge, she thought, as she looked over, and all this gnaw- 
 ing misery that seems eating her very vitals might ' ended 
 forever. One hand was laid on the rail — the nex ioment 
 she might have been in eternity ; but with the rebound of a 
 roused tigress she sprung back Was it the thought of 
 standing before the judgmf> at . God with all her crime 
 on her soul — of the long eiciiuty of misery that must follow 
 — that appalled her? No, she would have laughed in scorij 
 at these, but the remembrance of her vow, of her oath of 
 vengeance, restrained her. 
 
 " No ; I will live till I have wrung from his heart a tithe 
 of the misery mine has felt," she thought ; and then a dark, 
 lowering glance on the black, troubled waters below filled up 
 the hiatus. 
 
 Dusky forms, like shadows from the grave, were fii^t'ngto 
 and fro, brushing past her as they went. R'^ilessly they 
 
!.Mtmsm 
 
 50 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i 
 
 Ifri 
 
 flew on, as if under the friendly mantle of darkness alone 
 they dared leave their dens. She knew who they were-the 
 scum the offcasts, the street-walkers of London ; and she 
 
 faces that gleamed for an instant in the light of the lamp 
 and hen were gone, if any of them had ever felt anguth 
 
 orm in' li'i . T'^" "^'' ''°°^ "'"^^^'"^ the parapet, a female 
 form in hght, flowing garments, was borne on, as if by the 
 n.gh wind, and stood gazing down into the gloomy waters 
 
 f.r^ h ;-f ?"^„«r^"?gl''^P«eshecaughtof a pafe yom.g 
 face, beautifust.ll, despite its look of unutterable woe ; and 
 then with a light rustle, something went down, far down 
 nto the waves beneath. There was a sullen plunge and 
 the gipsy queen leaned over to see. By the light of one of 
 the barge lamps she saw a darker shadow rise through the 
 darkness to the surface. For an instant that whitf, wiJd 
 face glared above the black bosom of the Thames, and tTen 
 
 seTZeTl r"'. ' '"^ '"'''' " ^^^^' ^^"^^ smile,'terrible to 
 see, the daik, dread woman turned away 
 
 Away, again, through the labyrinth of the citv leaving, 
 that " Bridge of Sighs " far behind-away from 'the d^k 
 dens and filthy purlieus to the wider and m^ore flmonab e 
 
 rS t\" 'T' f '^ ^'^ ^^P^y ^"^^" There could be no 
 rest for her this last sorrowful night ; as if pursued bv a 
 
 haunting demon she fled on, as if she ^ould escape from^he 
 
 ZtTlTrP' ''^''' was gnawing at her hear^ ; seek ng 
 for rest and finding it not. Clutching her breast f^ercelv at 
 
 r:;; r^^' '"k"^?- ^^^^^^ ^"^^^ - ^^ she loud fea 
 
 thence the anguish that was driving her mad. she still flew 
 on until once again she found herself before he brilliantly 
 '.ghted mansion of Earl De Courcy. Swelling on the nigM 
 air, came borne to her ear strains of softest music, as" to 
 mock her misery. Gay forms went flitting past the windows 
 and at intervals soft musical peals of lau^ghter m ngled .Tth 
 the louder sounds of gayety. Folding her arms over her 
 
 w th.' il' f^'^ !f' """^ ^^^^"'^ ^ lamp-post, and looked, 
 wih a steady smile, up at the illuminated "marble hall " 
 
 ?nf bv her fre^'fi commanding form, made more command- 
 ng by her free, fiery costume, stood out in bold relief, in the 
 
 ffir'lt r^^' b?t?-"'^'r---''"' ?^^' '''' -'' ''' ^^^^ ^"-^ 
 lair.y .ernHv in its u.LcnMiy 01 nate. And that smile curling 
 
THE MOTHER'S DESPAIR. 
 
 5T 
 
 :ness alone 
 were — the 
 ; and she 
 ' wild, pale 
 the lamp, 
 It anguish 
 t, a female 
 i if by the 
 my waters 
 >ale young- 
 woe ; and 
 "ar down, 
 unge, and 
 3f one of 
 ough the 
 hite, wild 
 and then 
 errible to 
 
 , leaving 
 the dark 
 hionable 
 lid be no 
 led by a 
 from the 
 
 seeking 
 ercely at 
 uld tear 
 still dew 
 rilliantly 
 he night 
 
 as if to 
 /indows, 
 :led with 
 )ver her 
 
 looked, 
 le hall" 
 mmand- 
 :f , in the 
 h a look 
 ! curling 
 
 her thin, colorless lips — Satan himself might have envied her 
 that demoniacal smile of unquenchable malignity I 
 
 Moving through his gorgeous rooms, Earl De Courcy 
 dreamed not of the dark, vengeful glance that would, if it 
 could, have pierced those solid walls of stone to seek him. 
 And yet ever before him, to mar his festivity, would arise 
 the haunting memory of that convulsed face, those distended 
 eye-balls, those blanched lips, those upraised hands, plead- 
 ing vainly for the mercy he could not grant. Amid all the 
 glitter and gayety of the brilliant scene around him, he could 
 not forget the pleadings of that strong heart in its strong 
 agony. He thought little of her threats— of her maledic- 
 tions ; yet, when some hours later he missed his son from 
 tlie gay scene, dark thoughts of assassination— of the unfail- 
 ing subtle poisons gipsies were so skilful in, arose before 
 him ; and he shuddered with a vague presentiment of dread. 
 But his son had returned safe; and now the stately old 
 nobleman stood gayly chatting with a bevy of fair ladies, 
 who clustered round him like so many gay, glittering, tropical 
 butterflies. 
 
 " Oh 1 she was positively the most delightful old thing 
 I «ver saw 1 " exclaimed the gay voice of gay little Miss 
 Clara Jernyngham. '< Just like ' Hecate ' in ' Macbeth,' for 
 all the world— the very deau ideal of a delightful Satanic old 
 sorceress ! I would have given anything — my diamond ring, 
 my French poodle, every single one of my lovers, or even a 
 ♦ perfect love of a bonnet ' — to have had her tell my fortune. 
 I fairly dote on all those delightfully-mysterious, enchanting, 
 ugly old gipsies who come poking round, stealing and telling 
 fortunes. What in the world did she want of vou, mv 
 lord?" ^ ^ 
 
 A shadow fell darkly over the brow of the earl for a mo- 
 ment, as he recollected that dark, impassioned woman plead- 
 ing for her only son ; but it passed away as quickly as it 
 came, ?nd he answered, with a smile : 
 
 " To tell my fortune, of course, little bright-eyes. Am I 
 not an enviable man ? " 
 
 " And did she really tell it ? Oh, how delightful 1 What 
 did she say, my lord ? " 
 
 " That I was to propose to Miss Clara Jernvno-ham who 
 was to say, ' With pleasure, my lord I '—that I was1;o indulge 
 
3LkMQ^ 
 
 52 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 r-'i 
 
 and French poodles to an un« 
 
 1.81 
 
 her with ' loves of bonnets 
 limited extent — that — " 
 
 " Now, I don't believe a word of it," said Miss Clara 
 pouting, while a peal of silvery laughter arose from the rest! 
 " I wouldn't be a mere countess at any price. I'll have a 
 ducal coronet, if I die for it I You know the old Duke of 
 
 ?;^77',™^ ^°''^'" ^^^ ^^^^^' ^" a mysterious whisper. 
 Well, he IS not quite right in his mind, poor man ! and I 
 am gomg to propose to him the very first chance ! The 
 family diamonds are superb, and I will become tb-.T. beauti- 
 fully you know 1 This is strictly en^re nous, though ; and if 
 you don't tell, my lord, you shall have an invitation to the 
 wedding, and drink my health in his grace's old wine ! " 
 
 And with her pretty little face all dimpled with smiles, 
 Miss Clara danced away to a window near, and, lifting the 
 heavy curtains, peeped out. 
 
 The earl had bowed, and, with his hand on his heart, had 
 promised, with befitting gravity, to preserve the young lady's 
 secret inviolate, and was now turning away, when a sudden 
 ejaculation from Miss Clara's rosy lips brought him again 
 to her side. ° 
 
 "Oh, my lord! only look I " she cried, in a breathless 
 whisper, pointing out. " There is that dark, dreadful ginsv 
 we were talking of, herself. Only look at that awful face- 
 it is positively enough to make one's blood run cold. Could 
 she have heard us, do you think, my lord .? " 
 
 At any ether time, the gay little lady's undisguised terror 
 would have amused the earl ; but now, with that dark, stern 
 terrible face gleaming like a vision from the dead, in the 
 fitful light of the street-lamp, he felt his very blood curdle 
 It rose before him so unexpectedly, as if she had risen from 
 the earth to confront him, that even his strong heart grew 
 for a moment appalled. Her tall form looming up unnat- 
 urally large in the uncertain light ; her unsheltered head, 
 on which the rain mercilessly beat; her steady, burnino- 
 unswerving gaze fixed on the very window where they stood 
 —all combined, sent a thrill of terror, such as in all his life 
 he had never felt before, to the very heart of the earl 
 ^ She savv them as they stood there; for by the brilliant 
 jets 01 light, his imposing form was plainly revealed in the 
 iarge wmuow. Slowly, like an inspired sibyl of darkest 
 

 to an un- 
 
 [iss Clara, 
 n the rest. 
 '11 have a 
 i Duke of 
 > whisper, 
 an ! and I 
 ice I The 
 ^m beauti- 
 jh ; and if 
 3n to the 
 ine ! " 
 th smiles, 
 ifting the 
 
 leart, had 
 ing lady's 
 a sudden 
 lim again 
 
 )reathless 
 ful gipsy 
 ff ul face ; 
 . Could 
 
 ed terror 
 rk, stern, 
 d, in the 
 i curdle, 
 sen from 
 art grew 
 ip unnat- 
 ed head, 
 burning, 
 ley stood 
 1 his life 
 rl. 
 
 brilliant 
 d in the 
 
 darkest 
 
 THE MOTHER'S DESPAIR. 
 
 53 
 
 doom, she raised one skinny hand, and, while her long, 
 flickering finger pointed upward, her ominous gaze never 
 for a single instant wandered from his face. So wild, so 
 threatening was her look, that the shriek she had opened 
 her mouth to utter, froze on little Miss Jernyngham's Ups ; 
 and the earl, with a shudder, shfided his eyes with his hands 
 to shut out the weird sight. One moment later, when he 
 looked again, the dark, portentous vision was gone, and 
 nothing met his eye but the slanting rain falling on the 
 wet, glittering pavement. 
 
 Slowly and reluctantly, as though unwilling to go, the 
 clouds of night rolled sullenly back, and morning, with dark, 
 shrouded face and dismal fog, broke over London. 
 
 The crash, the din, the surging roar of busy life had 
 commenced. The vast heart of the mighty Babel was throb- 
 bing with the unceasing stream of life. Men, looking like 
 specters, in the thick, yellow fog, buttoned up in overcoats, 
 and scowling at the weather, passed up and down the 
 thronged thoroughfares. On the river, barges, yachts and 
 boats ran against each other in the gloom, and curses, loud 
 and deep, from hoarse throats, mingled with peals of gruff 
 laughter, from crowds of rowdy urchins on the wharves, 
 who, secure in their own safety, seemed hugely to enjoy the 
 discomfit-JT of their fellow-heathens. The dark bosom of 
 the slugr I'hames rose and fell calmly enough, telling no 
 tales of *ie misery, woe and shame hidden forever under 
 its gloomy waves. 
 
 A large, black, dismal-looking ship lay moored to one of 
 the docks, and a vast concourse of people were assembled 
 to witness the crowd of convicts who were to be borne far 
 away from " Merrie England " in her, that morning. Two- 
 by-two they came, chained together hand and foot, like oxen ; 
 and the long, gloomy procession wound its tortuous way to 
 the vessel's side, amid the laughter, scoffs and jeers of the 
 crowd. Yet there were sad faces in that crowd, too — faces 
 hard, rough and guilt-stained — that grew sorrowful as better 
 men's might have grown,, as some friend, son, husband or 
 brother went by, straining their eyes to take a last look at 
 the land they were leaving forever. Now and then, some 
 fair young face scarcely past boyhood would pass in the 
 f«lon gang—faces hard to associate with the idea of guilt ; 
 
 1 1 
 
J^LjLJLMdkL 
 
 ^mML 
 
 54 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 P 
 If 
 
 
 LhT 1 u '^ dark savage, morose men, with scowling eyes 
 and guilt-hardened looks-men inured to crime fromMeIr 
 very infancy, and paying crime's just penalty now. 
 
 At last came one who was greeted with an insulting cheer 
 that rung to the very heavens. And " Hurrah I for the 
 gentleman g.psy 1 "« Hurrah 1 hurrah 1 for the thief from 
 Eton 1 rung out agam and again, until the welkin rung. 
 
 Proudly erect with his fine head thrown back; his full 
 falcon eyes flashing with a scorn that made more than one 
 scoffing gaze fall, walked the son of the gipsy queen 
 fn ^^.°"' Kuf '^ '"' °^ ^^"^^°" ^^^^^^d him as^he went on • 
 cbVs :Se^hemsel ^^^\^h-\-^-' belonging to theif own 
 
 a wild hLl ^ i''^' ■'^•"'^^ ^^^"^- ^"' ^J^e» ^ woman- 
 a wild, haggard, despairing woman-rushed through the 
 crowd, and greeted him with the passionate cry: " My son I 
 oh, my son l-my son 1 " a silence like that of deathTeU over 
 he vast hrong. Unheeding all around her, the fHpsy Ke- 
 tura would have forced her way to his sid^; buf she was 
 held back by those who had charge of the convicts Ind 
 the dreary procession passed on its way. 
 
 All were on board at last; and the vessel, with a fair 
 wind, was moving away from the wharf. Th; c owd was 
 dispersing ; and the officer, at last, who was guardiStura 
 moved away with the rest, casting a compLionategbnce 
 on the face white with woman's utmost woe. ^ 
 
 hand? tl?5 '^'T^: f'^ '^'^^"^"^ ^^eballs and clenched 
 hands the wretched woman watched the ship that bore 
 away the son she so madly loved. A sort of desyfate hope 
 was in her heart; still, while it remained in s^ght some! 
 thing might intervene to restore him yet. With parted iTos 
 and heaving breast, she stood there, as any oth^er moth^ 
 might stand, and watched the sods piled oVr her Ss 
 grave ; and still she would not believe he had Tone fore^/ 
 A last the vessel disappeared ; the last: trace of heV white 
 sails were gone ; and then, with a terrific shriek that those 
 who heard might never forget, she threw up both arms and 
 fell, in strong convulsions, to the ground. ' 
 
MRS. TOOSYPEGS '"itfRN UP" AGAIN. 55; 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 MR. TOOSYPEGS " TURNS UP " AGAIN. 
 
 •' His looks do argue him replete with modesty." 
 
 — Shakspeare. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Ilarkins, it ain't possible, now ! " exclaimed 
 a struggling, incredulous voice. "Just to think we should 
 meet again after such a long time 1 I'm sure it's real sur- 
 prising." 
 
 The speaker, a pale young man, with a profusion of light 
 hair and freckles, and a gaudy hand carpet-bag, was taking 
 a stroll on the classic banks of the Serpentine, when sud- 
 denly espying a short, plethoric, gruff-looking, masculine 
 individual coming toward him, he made a sudden plunge at 
 him, and grasped his hand with an energy that was quite 
 Startling. 
 
 The short individual addressed, with a wholesome dis- 
 trust of London pickpockets before his eyes, raised a stout 
 stick he carried, with the evident intention of trying the 
 thickness of the pale young man's skull ; but before it could 
 come down, the proprietor of the freckles began, in a tone 
 of mild expostulation : 
 
 "Why, Mr. Harkins, you haven't forgotten me — have 
 you? Don't you recollect the young man you brought to 
 London in your wagon one rainy night ? Why, Mr. Har- 
 kins, I'm O. C. Toosypegs I " said the pale young man, in a 
 slightly aggrieved tone. 
 
 " Why, so hit be I " exclaimed Mr. Harkins, brightening 
 up, and lowering his formidable weapon. " Blessed ! if you 
 ^adn't gone clean hout my 'eau 1 Why, Mr. Toosypegs, this 
 is the most surprisingest thing as ever was! I hain't seen 
 you I don't care when 1 " 
 
 " I'm very much obliged to you, Mr. Harkins," said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, gratefully. " I knew you'd be very glad to see 
 me, and it's real kind of you to say so. I hope Mrs. Har- 
 
 Irinc anrl xrr>iir infonf fotiii'lir oyr^ oil ^..li-n ,..^11 T il 1- »> 
 
 D ^ J — , ,..,!,,,j. ji£,_ ^jj j^uivu \Tcii, 1 iijiniK. yuu. 
 
 «• Yes, they're hall among the middlin's," said Mr. Har- 
 
t f ^lffnk 
 
 JSk 
 
 TiiiVIl 
 
 56 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I<f'i 
 
 
 kins, indifferently. " Mrs. Harkins 'as been and gone and 
 'ad the— what's this now ? " said Mr. Harkins, pausing, 
 with knit brows, and scratching his head in perplexity. 
 " Blessed! if I hain't clean forgot the name, it was 'tongs,' 
 No— yes— it was ' tongs,' hand something else." 
 
 «' And poker," suggested Mr. Toosypegs, thoughtfully. 
 " Mr. Toosypegs," said Mr. Harkins, facing round fiercely, 
 " I 'ope you don't mean for to hinsult a cove, do you ? " 
 
 " Why, Mr. Harkins 1 " remonstrated the astonished and 
 aggrieved Mr. Toosypegs. " I'm sure I never meant any 
 such thmg ; I wouldn't insult you for all the world for— ^ 
 for—" Mr. Toosypegs paused for a figure of speech strong 
 enough. " For any amount of money, Mr. Harkins," added 
 Mr. Toosypegs, warmly. 
 
 " Well, it don't make no matter hif you did," said Mr. 
 Harkins, cooling suddenly down. " But what has this Mrs 
 'Arkins 'ad— tongs— tongs ? Oh, yes! tongs-will-eat-ns) 
 that's the name, Mr. Toosypegs. Mrs. 'Arkins 'ad that," said 
 Mr. Harkins, triumphantly. 
 
 " Tonsilitus, perhaps," insinuated Mr. Toosypegs, meekly 
 " Well, hain't that wot I said ? " exclaimed Mr. Harkins' 
 rousmg up again. " Hand my John Halbert, he's been and 
 'ad a Sarah Bell affection—" 
 
 " Cerebral," again ventured Mr. Toosypegs, humbly. 
 " Well, hain't that wot I said ? " shouted Mr. Harkins, 
 glarmg savagely at the republican, who wilted suddenly 
 down. " Blessed ! if I hain't a good mind to bring you a 
 clip 'long side the 'ead, for your imperence in conterdicting 
 me lake this 'ere hev'ry time.? Why, you'd perwoke a 
 samt, so you would ! " exclaimed the outraged Mr. Harkins. 
 " Mr. Harkins, I'm sure I never meant to offend you, and 
 I'm real sorry for your trouble," ap' ' -gized Mr. Toosypesjs 
 m a remorse-stricken tone. 
 
 " Well, it wasn't no trouble," said Mr. Harkins, testily. 
 " Cos he got took to the 'orsepittle for fear hany the rest 
 hof the family would take it. Mary-Hann, she got her feet 
 wet, and took the inn-flue-end-ways ; whot yer got to say 
 ag'in' that 1 " fiercely demanded Mi. Harkins. 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs, who had been muttering " influenza " to 
 himself, and chuckling inwardly, as he thou^^ht how h^ 
 could correct Mr. Harkins, in his own mind,^ in spite of 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS "TURNS UP" AGAIN. 57 
 
 him, was so completely overpowered by this bristling ques- 
 tion, that the blood of conscious guilt rushed to his face, 
 and Mr. O. C. Toosypegs stood blushing like a red cab- 
 bage. 
 
 " Because if you've got hanything to say ag'in hit," went 
 on Mr. Harkins, pointing one stubby forefinger at society 
 in general, "you 'ad better let hit hout for a little hexercise, 
 that's all. Come now 1 " 
 
 " Mr. Harkins, it's very kind of you to give me permis- 
 sion, and I am very much obliged to you,'' said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, looking severely at a small boy who had a hold of his 
 coat-tails behind. "But I hadn't the remotest idea of say- 
 ing anything, whatever, against it. I'm sure it's perfectly 
 right and proper Mary Ann should have the influenza, if 
 she wants to." 
 
 " Ah 1 I didn't know but what you might think she 
 'adn't," said Mr. Harkins blandly. "There wasn't hany 
 tellin', you know, but what you might say a Hinglishman's 
 'ouse wasn't his castle, and he couldn't 'ave whatever he 
 likes there. Well, the baby, he got the crook, which 'ad the 
 meloncholic heffec' hof turning 'im perfectly black in the 
 face." 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs, though inwardly surmising Mr. Harkins 
 meant the croup, thought it a very likely effect tc be brought 
 about by either. 
 
 " Then Sary Jane took the brown skeeters, hand I 'ad 
 the lum-beggar hin my hown back, but on the who'e we 
 were all pretty well, thanky ! " 
 
 " I am real glad to hear it," said Mr. Toosypegs, vith 
 friendly warmth. " I've been pretty well myself since, too. 
 I'm very much obliged to you." 
 
 " Let's see, it's near a month, hain't it, since the night I 
 took you to London ? " said Mr. Harkins. 
 
 " Three weeks and five days exactly," said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, briskly. 
 
 " I suppose you don't disremember the hold gipsy has 
 we took hin that night— do you ? 'I was a stranger hand 
 you took me hin.' That's in the Bible, Mr. Toosypegs," 
 said Mr. Harkins, drawing down the corners of his mouth, 
 and looking pious, and giving Mr. Toosypegs a dig in the 
 ribs, to mark the beauty of the quotation. 
 
 1. 
 
mmtmimtimiimM 
 
 MsUL 
 
 ■■-^^-- ■■ ff^^ , ^. s7jiiKE-.fflSH|-... 
 
 58 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 l;;i 
 
 II 
 
 5« 
 
 Itaf 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Harkins, but not so hard, if you please— it 
 hurts," said Mr. Toosypegs, with tears in his eyes, as he 
 rubbed the place. 
 
 " What does ? that there piece hout vhe iJible ? " said Mr. 
 Harkins, with one of his sudden bursts of fierceness. 
 
 "Oh, Lor', no ! " said the deeply-scandalized Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, surprised into profanity by the enormity of the charge 
 " It's your elbow, Mr. Harkins, it hurts," said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, with a subdued sniffle. 
 
 "Humph!" grunted Mr. Harkins; "well hit's hof no 
 squenceyance, but you don't disremember the hold gipsy- 
 woman we took in, do you ? " 
 
 " The one with the black eyes and short frock ? Oh, I 
 remember her ! " said Mr. Toosypegs. " I've never seen 
 her since." 
 
 "No, I shouldn't s'pose you 'ad," said Mr. Harkins, 
 gruffly, " seem' she's as mad as a March 'are, down there 
 with her tribe. Mysterious are the way- of Providence. 
 You blamed little rascal ! hif you do that again, I'll chuck 
 you inter the Serpentine! blessed hif I don't." 
 
 His last sentence, which began with a pious upturning of 
 the whites, or rather the yellows, of Mr. Harkins' eyes, was 
 abruptly cut short by a depraved youth, who, turning a 
 course of summersatdts for the benefit of his constitution 
 rolled suddenly against Mr. Harkins' shins, and the next 
 instant found himself whimpering and rubbing a portion of 
 his person, where Mr. Harkins had planted a well-applied 
 kick. 
 
 " The way the principuls of perliteness is neglected to 
 be hnistilled hinto the minds of youths now-a-days, is dis- 
 tressin' to behold," said Mr. Harkins, with a grimace of 
 pain ; " but has I was sayin' habout the hold gipsy queen 
 she's gone crazy, hand "—(here Mr. Harkins lowered his 
 voice to a hoarse whisper)—" she's went hand got a baby." 
 
 " Do tell ! " ejaculated Mr. Toosypegs, who saw it was 
 expected of him to be surprised, and who consequently was, 
 though he could not see any earthly reason for it. 
 
 "A baby," went on Mr. Harkins, who would have em- 
 phasized his words by another dig in the ribs, but that Mr. 
 
 Toosypegs dodged back m 
 Idckin' ! " 
 
 alarm ; " a real baby, alive and 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS " TURNS UP " AGAIN. 50 
 
 " Pshaw 1 it ain't possible 1 " said Mr Toosypegs, in a 
 voice betraying not the slightest particle of emotion, 
 
 " It is— hincredulous as it may sound, it's true,'' said Mr. 
 Harkins, solemnly. " The way I found hit hout was this : I 
 was comin' halong 'ome, one night hafter bringing hoff a 
 cove w'at got waylaid to Lunnon, a-singiu' to myself that 
 there song, the ' Roast Beef hof Hold Hingland," hand a- 
 thinkin' no more 'arm, Mr. Toosypegs, nor a lot hof young 
 pigses gom' to market," said Mr. Harkins, giving his stick a 
 grand flourish to n ark this bold figure of speech. " It 
 wasn't a dark night, Mr. Toosypegs, nor yet a light one ; 
 the starses was a-shinin'like heverything, when, hall hof a 
 suddint, a 'and was laid hon the reins, hand a voice, so deep 
 and orful-like hit made me fairly jump, said : 
 
 " ' Will you let me ride hin your vagging has far has 
 you're going ? ' 
 
 " I looked round, Mr. Toosypegs," continued Mr. Harkins, 
 m a husky whisper, " and there I see'd that there gipsy 
 queen, lookin' so dark, hand fierce, and wild-like, I nearly 
 jumped clean hout the wagging. Blessed I if I wasn't skeert I 
 Just then I heerd a cry from a bundle she'd got in her arms, 
 hand what do you think I saw, Mr. Toosypegs ? " 
 
 The startling energy with which Mr. Harkins, carried 
 away by the excitement of his story, asked this question, so 
 discomposed the mild young man with the freckles, that he 
 gave a sudden jump back, and glanced in terror at the nar- 
 rator's elbow. 
 
 "Really, Mr. Harkins, I don't know, I'm sure," said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, grasping his carpet bag, nervously. 
 
 " A baby ! " said Mr. Harkins, in the same mysterious, 
 husky whisper; "a baby, Mr. Toosypegs I Now, the 
 question his, where did that there baby come from > " 
 
 Mr. Harkins gave his hat a slap on the crown, for em- 
 phasis, and, resting both hands on the top of his stick, came 
 to a sudden halt, and looked Mr. Toosypegs severely in the 
 face. 
 
 " A— really, Mr. Harkins— I— a— I hadn't the remotest 
 idea," said Mr. Toosypegs, blushing to the very roots of his 
 hair. " I hope you don't suspect me — " 
 
 " Bah! " interrnptpc! Mr. Harkins, with a look of disgust; 
 «* nobody never said nothin' about you 1 Well, Mr. Toosy- 
 
I 
 
 60 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 pegs, I took her hin, has she hasked, and brought her along 
 has far has my 'ouse, where Missus 'Arkins gave her some- 
 thing to eat for the Httle 'un, which was has fine a little 
 fellow has you'd wish to see. Then she went hoflf, and the 
 next week we heard she'd gone and went crazy." 
 
 " Poor thing. Why, I'm real sorry, Mr. Harkins. I dare 
 say she was a real nice old lady, if she'd been let alone,' ' 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of commiseration. 
 
 " Why, who tetched her ? " said Mr. Harkins, testily. 
 
 " Well, they went and transported her son, and I'm sure 
 it wasn't right at all, when he did not want to go. She 
 looked real put out about it that night, herself, too." 
 
 " S'posc you heerd her son was drown-ded ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I saw it in the papers, and I was real sorry — I 
 really was. Mr. Harkins, I dare say you was, too .'' " 
 
 Mr. Harkins grunted. 
 
 " All hands was lost, wasn't they ' " said Mr. Harkins, 
 after a short pause. 
 
 " Yes; all hands and feet," said Mr. Toosypegs, venturing 
 on a weak joke ; but, catching the stern look of Mr. Har- 
 kins, at this improper levity, he instantly grew serious 
 again ; "the ship struck against something — " 
 
 " A mermaid," suggested Mr. Harkins. 
 
 " Mr. Haikins, I'm very much obliged to you, but it 
 wasn't a mermaid, it was a coral reef — that's the name — and 
 went to the bottom with all hands and the cook." 
 
 ** Which is a melancholic picture hof the treacherousness 
 hof the hocean," said Mr. Harkins, in a moralizing tone, 
 " hand should be a severe warning to hall, when they steal, 
 not to let themselves get tooken hup, lest they be tooken 
 down a peg or two, hafter." 
 
 " But you know, Mr. Harkins, it's been found out since he 
 wan't the one who stole the plate, at all. That man they 
 arrested for murder, and are going to hang, confessed he 
 did it. I'm sure you might have seen it in the papers, Mr. 
 Harkins." 
 
 " 1 don't put no faith hin the papers myself," said Mr. 
 Harkins, in a severe tone ; " they hain't to be believed, 
 none of 'em, Hif they says one thing, you may be sure 
 hit's just hexactly the tother. That there's my opinion." 
 
 " But, Mr. Harkins, look here," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS "TURNS UP" AGAIN. 6i 
 
 deeply impressed with this profound view of the newspaper 
 press, in general, '« I dare say that's true enough, and it's 
 real sensible of you to say so ; but in this case it must be 
 true. Why, they're going to hang the man, Mr. Harkins, 
 ad he confessed he did that, along with ever so many other 
 unlawful things. I wonder if hanging hurts much, Mr. Har- 
 kins ? " said Mr. Toosypegs, involuntarily loosening his 
 neck-cloth, as he thought of it. 
 
 " Well, I don't know," returned Mr. Harkins, thought- 
 fully, " I never was 'anged myself, but I had a cousin who 
 married a vidder." Here, Mr. Harkini., taking advantage 
 of a moment's unguarded proximity, gave Mr. Toosypegs a 
 facetious dig in the ribs, which caused that ill-used young 
 gentleman to spring back with something like a howl. 
 
 " You don't know how sharp your elbow is, Mr. Harkins ; 
 and my ribs are real thin. I ain't used to such treatment, 
 and it hurts," said Mr. Toosypegs, with whom this seemed 
 to be the climax of wrong, and beyond which there was no 
 proceeding further. 
 
 " I have heerd it was honly their shins as was tender hin 
 Hamerica," said Mr. Harkins. "When are you goin'back 
 to Hamerica, Mr. Toosypegs ? " 
 
 " Not before a year — perhaps two," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 brightening suddenly up. " And I tell you what, Mr. Har- 
 kins, America is a real nice place, and I'll be ever so glad to 
 get back to it. There was th^ nicest people round where 
 we lived that ever was," went on Mr. Toosypegs, getting 
 enthusiastic. " There was Judge Lawless, up at Heath 
 Hill; and old Admiral Havcnful, at the White Squall, -^nd 
 lots of other folks. Where I lived was called Dismal Hol- 
 low, owing to its being encircled by huge black rocks on all 
 sides, and a dark pine forest on the other." 
 
 •' Pleasant place it must 'ave been," said Mr. H.irkins, 
 with a strong sneer. 
 
 " Well, it wasn't so pleasant as you might think," seriously 
 replied Mr. Toosypegs, on whom his companion's sarcasm 
 was completely thrown away ; " the sun never shone there ; 
 and as Dismal Creek, that run right before the i.ouse, got 
 swelled up every time it rained, the house always made a 
 point of c^Qtt'iTif flooded^ and so we lived most of the time in 
 the attic in the spring. There were runaway niggers in the 
 
''mmm> 
 
 ,«*!_ 
 
 6a 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 !¥■ 
 
 ■11 
 
 woods, too, who used to steal and do a good many other 
 nasty things, so it wasn't safe to go out at night, but, on the 
 whole, it was protly pleasant." 
 
 " Wot ever made you leave sich a nice place ? " said Mr 
 Harkins, with a litth. suppressed chuckle. 
 
 " Why. Mr. Harkins, I may tell you as a friend, for I 
 know you won't mention it again," said Mr. Too^ypegs 
 lowering his voice to a deeply-confidential and stnctlv 
 private cadence. " My pa died when I was a little shaver 
 about so-year-old, and ma and I were pretty poor to be 
 candid about it. Well, then, three years ago my ma died, 
 too, which was a serious affliction to me, Mr. Harkins, and I 
 was . jft plunged in deepest sorrow and poverty. The nig- 
 gers worked the farm, and I was employing my time in cul- 
 tivating a pair of whiskers to alleviate my grief when I 
 received a letter from an uncle here in Enghmd, telling me 
 to come right on, and, if he liked me, he'd make me his heir 
 when he died, which was real kind of him. That's what 
 brought me here, Mr. Harkins; and I'm stopping with my 
 uncle and his sister, who is an unmarried woman of fortv- 
 five, or so." ^ 
 
 " Hand the hold chap's 'live yet ? " inquired Mr. Har- 
 kins. 
 
 " Mr. Harkins, my uncle, I am happy to say, still exists " 
 answered Mr Toosypegs, gravely. ' 
 
 " Humph 1 'As he got much pewter, Mr. Toosypegs ? " 
 
 "Much what?" said the mild owner of the freckles 
 completely at a loss. " You'll excuse me, I hope, Mr. Har- 
 kins, but I really don't understand." 
 
 "Green," muttered Mr. Harkins, contemptuously to 
 himself. Then aloud : " 'Ow much do you think he'll leave 
 you ? " 
 
 " Well, about two thousand pounds or so," said Mr. Too- 
 sypegs, complacently. 
 
 " Two— thousand— poun' ! " slowly articulated the as- 
 tounded Mr. Harkins. " Oh, my heye !— w'y you'll be 
 rich, Mr. Toosypegs ! What will you do with all that there 
 money ? " 
 
 " Why, my aunt. Miss Priscilla Dorothea Toosypegs, and 
 I are^ going home to Maryland (that's where I used to live, 
 Mr. Harkins), and we're going to fit up the old place and 
 
 U 
 
- - . a . :s aB4fr^a«»a^.*. 
 
 laiiy other 
 )ut, on the 
 
 said Mr. 
 
 ;nd, for I 
 ^oo.^ypegs, 
 id strictly 
 tie shaver 
 )or, to be 
 ' ma died, 
 :ins, and I 
 The nig- 
 ne in cul- 
 f when I 
 elling me 
 e his heir 
 at's what 
 with my 
 of forty- 
 Mr. Har- 
 11 exists," 
 
 tegs ? " 
 freckles, 
 Mr. Har- 
 
 Dusly to 
 i'll leave 
 
 ^r. Too- 
 
 the as- 
 ou'll be 
 lat there 
 
 egs, and 
 
 to live, 
 
 ace and 
 
 MR. TOOSYPEGwS "TURNS UP" AGAIN. 63 
 
 live there. Aunt Priscilla never was in America, and wants 
 to sec It real bad." 
 
 " Two-thousand— poun'," still more slowly repeated Mr 
 Harkins. " Well, things is 'stonishing. Jest think hof me 
 now, the honest and 'ard-working father of ten children 
 hand you won't catch nobody going hand dying hand leaving 
 me one smgle blessed brass farden, while here's a cove 
 more n 'alf a hass. I say, Mr. Toosypegs, you wouldn't 
 lend me a gumea or two, would you ? " insinuated Mr. Har- 
 kms m his most incredulous voice. 
 
 "Why, certainly, Mr. Harkins," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 briskly, drawing out his purse. " I'm real happy to be able 
 to be of service to you. Here's two guineas, and don't put 
 yourself out about paying it." 
 
 " Mr. Toosypegs, you're a brick 1 " said Mi. Harkins 
 grasping his hand with emotion. " I won't put myself hout 
 in the least, since you're kind enough to request it; but hif 
 you 11 come and dine with me some day, I'll give you a 
 dinner of b'iled pertaters and roa'-i I,o.. ons fit for a kinir. 
 Will you come > " urged Mr. Har ans, givMg him a friendly 
 poke with his fore-finger. ^ 
 
 "Certainly I will, Mr. Harkins, and it- real kind in you 
 to ask me, said Mr. Toosypegs, po- eiy. «« I see you're in 
 a hurry, so 1 11 bid you good-day, now. Most certmnly I'll 
 come, Mr. Harkins. I'm very much obliged to you." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SECRET REVEALED. 
 
 " I was so youn^— I loved him so— I had 
 No mother— God forgive me !— and I fell ! " 
 
 Browning. 
 
 And how fell the news of Reginald Germainc's innocence 
 of the crime for which he was condemned, and his sad tnd 
 on the other personages connected with our tale ? ' 
 
 ^ To his mother came the news in her far-off Preenwnnd 
 nouie; ana as sne heard he had perished forever in the 
 
64 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW, 
 
 m 
 
 
 m 
 
 Stormy sea, Reason, already tottering in her half-crazed 
 brain, entirely gave way, and she fled, a shrieking maniac, 
 through the dim, old woods. 
 
 To Earl De Courcy it came in his stately home, to fill his 
 heart with deepest sorrow and remorse, Hauntingly before 
 him arose the agonized, despairing face of the lonely woman, 
 as on that last night she had groveled at his feet, shrieking 
 for that mercy he had refused. Proud, stern man as he was, 
 no words can express the deep pity, the heartfelt sorrow he 
 felt, as he thought of that lonely, despairing, childless woman, 
 a w-anderer over the wide world. 
 
 To Lord Ernest Villiers it came, bringing deepest regret 
 for the bold-eyed, high-hearted youth, so unjustly condemned, 
 so wrongly accused. He thought of him as he knew him 
 first — proud, princely, handsome, and generous. And now ! 
 that young life, under the unjust sentence of the law, had 
 passed away ; that haughty head, noble even in its degrada- 
 tion, lay far under the deep sea, among the bleaching bones 
 of those guilt-hardened men. 
 
 To one, in her father's castle halls, it came, bringing a. 
 feeling of untold relief. He had cruelly wronged her ; but 
 he was dead now, and she freely forgave him for all she had 
 suffered. While he lived, incurable sorrow must be hers ; 
 but he was gone, and happy days might dawn for her yet. 
 She might love another now, without feeling it a crime to do 
 so — one noble and generous, and worthy of her in every way. 
 One deep breath of relief, one low sigh to the memory of his 
 sad fate, and then a look of calm, deep happiness stole over 
 the beautiful face, such as it had not worn for years, and the 
 beautiful head, with its wealth of raven ringlets, dropped on 
 her arm, in a voiceless thanksgiving, in a joy too intense for 
 words. 
 
 And this was Lady Maude Percy. 
 
 In spite of her steady refusal of his suit, Lord Villiers had 
 not despaired. He could not understand the cause of her 
 strange melancholy and persistent refusal of her hand, 
 knowing, as he did, that she loved him, but, believing the 
 obstacle to be merely an imaginary one, he hoped on, and 
 waited for the time to come when this singular fancy of hers 
 would be gone. 
 
ilf-crazed 
 maniac, 
 
 to fill his 
 ly before 
 y woman, 
 shrieking 
 s he was, 
 lorrow he 
 s woman, 
 
 St regret 
 idemned, 
 new him 
 nd now ! 
 law, had 
 degrada- 
 tig bones 
 
 inging a 
 her ; but 
 
 she had 
 be hers ; 
 
 her yet. 
 ime to do 
 ^ery way. 
 )ry of his 
 tole over 
 , and the 
 pped on 
 tense for 
 
 Hers had 
 e of her 
 ;r hand, 
 ving the 
 on, and 
 y of hers 
 
 THE SECRET REVEALED. 
 
 65 
 
 That time had come now. Calling, one morning, and 
 finding her in the drawing-room, he was greeted with a brill- 
 iant smile, with a quick flush of pleasure, and a manner so 
 different from her customary one, that his heart bounded 
 with sudden hope. 
 
 " I am truly rejoiced to see Lady Maude recovering her 
 spirits again," he said, his fine eyes lit up with pleasure. 
 '• She has been shadowed by the dark cloud of her nameless 
 melancholy long enough." 
 
 " If Lord Villiers only knew how much cause I had for 
 that 'nameless melancholy,' he would forgive me any pain it 
 may ever have caused him," she said, while a shadow of the 
 past fell darkly over her bright young face. 
 
 " And may I not know ? Dearest Maude, when is this 
 mystery to end > Am I never to be made happy by the 
 possession of this dear hand?" 
 
 He took the little, white hand, small and snowy is a lily- 
 leaf, and It was no longer withdrawn, but nestled lovingly in 
 his, as if there it found its rightful home. 
 
 " Maude, Maude ! " he cried, in a delirium of joy " is 
 your dark dream, then, in reality over ? Oh, Maude, spe£.k 
 and tell me I Am I to be made happy yet .? " ' 
 
 " If you can take me as I am, if you can forgive and forget 
 the past, I am yours, Ernest 1 " she said, in a thrilling 
 whisper. ° 
 
 In a moment she was in his arms, held to the true heart 
 whose every throb was for her-her head upon the breast 
 that was to pillow hers through life. 
 
 r^u ^/""i^' ^^"^^ ' ^y ^'■^^^' "^y I'fe, my peerless darling I 
 Uh, Maude, this is too much happiness I " he cried, in a sort 
 o. transport between the passionate kisses pressed on her 
 warm, yielding lips. 
 
 Blushingly she rose from his embrace, and gently extri- 
 cated herself from his arms. s > m 
 
 '= Oh, Maude, my beautiful darling I May Heaven for- 
 ever bless you for this 1 " he fervently exclaimed, all aglow 
 with passionate love. ^ 
 
 She had sunk into a seat, and bent her head into her hand, 
 not^danng to meet the full, falcon gaze, flashing with deepest 
 -en..ernGss, that she knew was bent upon her. 
 
 "Speak again, Maude I Once more let me hear those 
 
LMEL^J 
 
 66 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 I? 
 
 «^l 
 
 m 
 
 1^1 
 
 precious words from your own sweet lips, Maude 1 Maude, 
 sweetest and fairest, speak 1 " 
 
 He wreathed his arms around her, while he seemed 
 breathing out his very soul as he aspirated her name. 
 
 " But you have not heard all, my lord. This secret — do 
 you not wish to hear it ? " she faintly said, without lifting 
 her dark, beautiful eyes. 
 
 " Not unless it is your wish to tell it. I want to hear 
 nothing but that you are my own." 
 
 " Yet, when you hear it, my lord, you may reject the hand 
 I have offered." 
 
 " Never, never 1 Nothing under heaven could make me 
 do that ! " 
 
 " You speak rashly. Lord Ernest. Wait until you have 
 heard all. i Jare not accept the noble heart and hand you 
 offer, without revealing the one great error of my youth." 
 
 " You commit error, my beautiful saint ? You, who are 
 as perfect in soul as in body. Oh, Maude, I cannot believe 
 
 It. 
 
 But oh, how shall 
 I have been — what 
 
 " It is true, nevertheless, my lord, 
 tell you ? How can I confess what 
 am ? " 
 
 There was a sharp agony in her voice, and her head 
 dropped on her hands, and her fair bosom rose and fell like 
 a tempest-tossed sea. 
 
 Encircling her with his arm, he drew her down until her 
 white face lay hidden in his breast, and then pressing his 
 Ups to the dark ripples of hair sweeping against his cheek, 
 he murmured, in tenderest whisper : 
 
 " Tell me now, Maude, and fear not ; for nothing you can 
 say will convince me you arj not as puie and unsullied as 
 the angels themselves. What is this terrible secret, sweetest 
 love ? " 
 
 dear lord, every word you speak, every caress 
 makes my revelation the harder 1 " she passion- 
 And yet it must be made, even though you 
 should spurn me from you in loathing after. Listen, my 
 lord. You think me Lady Maude Percy ? " 
 
 •' Yes, dear love." 
 
 •' Tliat is not my name ! " 
 
 " What, Maude ? " 
 
 "Oh, my 
 you give me, 
 ately cried. 
 
 l^ 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
Maude, 
 
 seemed 
 le. 
 
 icret — do 
 It lifting 
 
 to hear 
 
 the hand 
 
 nake me 
 
 rou have 
 land you 
 outh." 
 who are 
 t believe 
 
 t shall I 
 —what I 
 
 ler head 
 i fell like 
 
 until her 
 ssing his 
 lis cheek, 
 
 5 you can 
 
 sullied as 
 
 sweetest 
 
 :ry caress 
 ; passion- 
 >ugh you 
 isten, my 
 
 I 
 
 THE SECRET REVEAI.ED. 67 
 
 ir-Ii-'^^^lu'^ '1°^ ""y l^"^^- ^°5 I am not mad, Lord 
 Vilhers, though you look as if you thought so. I have been 
 mad once 1 You and all the world are deceived. I am not 
 what I seem." 
 
 " What, in Heaven's name do you mean .? What then are 
 
 " I was a wife I I have been a mother 1 I am a widow ! " 
 " Maude I " 
 
 " You recoil from me in horror I I knew it would be so 
 I deserve it-I deserve it ! but oh, Lord Villiers, it will kill 
 me I she cried, passionately wringing her hands. 
 
 " Maude, are you mac ? " 
 
 urW ^"^-/"^T^l'' ^ ^'" "°^' '^ a grief-crazed brain, a 
 blighted life, a broken heart be not madness " 
 
 " But Maude ! Good heavens I You are so young-not 
 yet^ eighteen 1 Oh, it cannot be true I " he cried, incoher- 
 
 TeS"; -fe 1 !?°' ' ""^ '^^^ ' ^^^ ^°"^ y-- ^^° I -- a 
 
 iJJ^'^^ this >^^'°" '' ^^^'^^^" ' ^'^^''' ^-^^• 
 
 then?^' Nnr' '?f "^ ^ ^ ^^' "^'^ ' ""^ I d'd love him so, 
 thenl Not as I love you, Lord Ernest, with a woman's 
 strong undying affection, but with the wild, passionatrfer- 
 vor of youth I must have inherited my dead mother's 
 
 We't ttt'^ '" "° ''^™-P"^^^' ''"^"'^ ^'^' ^-^ ^el? 
 
 Jy^\^'''^y'^'''^^^^-^^^y Mendel I could hardly have 
 be eved a messenger from heaven had he told me this " 
 
 God be merciful to human error ! A long life of sorrow 
 and remorse must atone for that first rash fault " 
 
 He was pacing up and down the long room with rapid 
 excited strides ; his fine face flushed, and his hands tlghf; 
 shut as If to keep down the bitterness that rebelliously rose 
 at this unlooked-for avowal. He had expected to hear 
 
 bTn fa 'dlnV'l''"'' "^^"^'^' ^^ ^ "^°^^'' imaginatbn 
 the womnn h T"' T''''^'' No man likes to hear tha 
 MnnH P^ K^'T' ^' ^""^^ ^°^^^ ^"other; and Lady 
 !^fi!^:^>^.^f,?!^l^S -,r^d so angelic that this suddeJ 
 
 the"bit?ernessof ta^l^'^^'^^' '^""^^^^ ""^ ^^ ^ P^"^ ^^^<^ 
 
: »n » fw*^' - 
 
 .UMi. 4£, iWiJ- imLml 
 
 68 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 IW; 
 
 i» 
 
 
 i: 
 fffi 
 
 And therefore, pacing up and down — up and down, with 
 brain and heart in a tumult — Lord Ernest Villiers' pride for 
 one moment overcame and mastered his love. For one 
 brief moment only — for then his eyes fell on the drooping 
 figure and despair-bowed young head ; and the anguished 
 attitude went to his heart, bringing back a full tide of pity, 
 love, and forgiveness. All was forgotten, but that she was 
 the only one he ever did or could love ; and lifting the 
 sorrowing head and grief-bowed form in his arms, once more 
 he clasped her closer to the manly young heart she could 
 feel throbbing under her own, and whispered : 
 
 " My own life's darling still ! Oh, Maude I if you must 
 grieve, it shall be on my breast. If you have erred, so, too, 
 have I— so have we all often. I will forget all but that you 
 have promised my arms shall be your home forever ! " 
 
 " And you forgive and love me still ? Oh, Lord Ernest I " 
 
 He kissed away her tears as she wept aloud. 
 
 " One thing more, dearest. Who was my Maude's first 
 love ! " 
 
 He felt a convulsive shiver run through the delicate form 
 he held. He felt her breast heave and throb as if the name 
 was struggling to leave it, and could not. 
 
 •' Tell me, Maude, for I must know," 
 
 " Oh, saints in heaven ! how can I ? Oh, Lord Ernest ! 
 this humiliation is more than I can endure." 
 
 '■ Speak, Lady Maude I for I must know." 
 
 She lifted her eyes to his, full of unspeakable anguish, 
 and then dropped her head heavily again ; for in that fixed, 
 grave, noble face, full of love and pity as it was, there was 
 no yielding now. 
 
 " Tell me, Maude, who was the husband of your child- 
 hood ? " 
 
 From the pale, quivering lip, in a dying whisper, dropped 
 the words : " Reginald Germaine, the gipsy 1 " 
 
 There was a moment's deathlike silence. The handsome 
 face of Lord Ernest Villiers seemed turned to marble, and 
 still motionless as if expiring, she lay in the arms that 
 clasped her still in a close embrace. At last : 
 
 " Heaven be merciful to the dead 1 Look up, my pre- 
 cious Maude ; for nothing on earth shall ever come between 
 us more ! " 
 
 II 
 
THE SECRET RE^^AI^ED. 
 
 down, with 
 
 s' pride for 
 
 For one 
 
 .e drooping 
 
 anguished 
 
 ide of pity, 
 
 at she was 
 
 lifting the 
 
 once more 
 
 she could 
 
 you must 
 ed, so, too, 
 ut that you 
 er!" 
 1 Ernest 1 " 
 
 lude's first 
 
 licate form 
 f the name 
 
 d Ernest ! 
 
 e anguish, 
 that fixed, 
 there was 
 
 our child- 
 
 r, dropped 
 
 handsome 
 arble, and 
 irms that 
 
 I, my pre- 
 e between 
 
 69 
 
 
 Calm and clear, on the troubled wave of her tempest-tossed 
 soul, the low words fell ; but only her deep, convulsive sobs 
 were his answer. 
 
 " Maude !- -my own dear Maude 1 " he cried, at last, 
 alarmed by her passion of grief, " cease this wild weeping. 
 Forget the troubled past, dear love ; for there are many 
 happy days in store for us yet." 
 
 But still she wept on— wildly, vehemently, at first — until 
 her strong passion of grief had passed away. He let her 
 sob on in quiet now, with no attempt to check her grief, 
 except by his silent caresses. 
 
 She lifted her head and looked up, at last, thanking him 
 by a radiant look, and the soft, thrilling clasp of her white 
 arms. 
 
 " I will not ask you to explain now, sweet Maude," he 
 softly whispered. " Some other time, when you are more 
 composed, you shall tell me all." 
 
 " No— no ; better now— far better now ; and then, while 
 life lasts, neither you nor I, Ernest, will ever breathe one 
 word of the dark sorrowful story again. Oh, Ernest I can 
 all the fondest love of a lifetime suffice to repay you for the 
 forgiveness you have shown me to-day?" 
 
 " I am more than repaid now, dear love. Speak of that 
 no more. But now that the worst is over, will my Maude 
 tell me all ? " 
 
 " I have not much to tell, Ernest ; but you shall hear it. 
 Nearly three years before you and I met, when a child of 
 fourteen, I was on a visit to my uncle Everly's. My cousin 
 Hubert, home from college, brought with him a fellow- 
 student to spend the vacation, who was presented to me as 
 Count Germaine. What Reginald Germaine was then, you, 
 who have seen him, do not need to know. Handsome, 
 dashmg, fascinating, he took every heart by storm, winning 
 love by his gay, careless generosity, and respect by his 
 talents and well-known daring. I was a dreamy, romantic 
 school-girl ; and in this bold, reckless boy, handsome as an 
 angel, I saw the living embodiment of my most glorious ideal. 
 From morning till night we were together; and, Ernest, 
 can you understand that wild dream ? How I loved him 
 then, words are weak to express, how I loathed and despised 
 him after no words can ever tell. Ernest, he persuaded me 
 
•aiva 
 
 70 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 "I 
 
 to elope with hun one night ; and we were married. I never 
 stopped to think of the consequences then. I only knew I 
 would have given up my hopes of heaven for him I Three 
 weeks longer he remained at Everly Hall ; and then papa 
 sent me ba V. .0 school, and he went to London. 
 
 " No one ^vas in our secret, and we met frequently, unsus- 
 pected ; th Aigh papa, thinking he was too presuming, had 
 forbidden me to associate with him. One day we went cut 
 driving ; the carriage was upset ; I fainted ; and for a Irng 
 time I remembered nothing more. 
 
 " When reason returned, I was in a little cottage, nui :;ed 
 by an old woman ; while he hovered by my bed ide ni;,-'t 
 and day. Then I learned that I had given birth to a child 
 — dead now and buried. I could recollect myself as people 
 recollect things in a confused dreun — of iie::-ing for a time 
 the feeble cries of an infant, and seeing a i/aby face, with 
 the large, black, beautiful eyes of Reginald Gen .aine, I 
 turned my face to the wall and wept, at first, in childish 
 grief , but he caressed arid soothed me, and I sooi: grew 
 cahr., I thoi!:.);i, at the time, a strange, unaccountable 
 change had cou-a. ovfjr him ; though I could not tell what. 
 When I was well aguit- I learned. Standing before me, 
 one morning, he c.'-n'y auri quietly told me how he had 
 deceived me— thac, iiKi.ead of being a French count, he was 
 the son of a strol'ing gipsy; but that, having repented of 
 what he had done, he was willing to give me up. 
 
 " The very life seemed stricken out of my heart as I list- 
 ened. Then my pride— the aroused pride of my race- 
 arose ; and, oh I words are weak to tell how I loathed my- 
 self and him. That I, a Percy— the daughter of a race that 
 had mated with royalty hitherto— had fallen so low as to 
 wed a gipsy 1 I shrunk, in horror unspeakable, from the 
 black, bottomless quagmire into which I had sunk. All my 
 love in that instant turned to bitterest scorn, and I passion- 
 ately bade him leave me, and never dare to come near me 
 again, or breathe a word of the past. He obeyed ; and 
 from that day I never beheld him more. 
 
 " After that, I met you. Lord Ernest, and I loved you as 
 I never loved him. For him, I cherished a blind, mad 
 pas-.ion ; for you, I felt the strong, earnest love of woman- 
 hood. You loved me ; but I shrunk from the affection my 
 
THE SECRET REVEAI^ED. 
 
 71 
 
 I never 
 y knew I 
 ! Three 
 len papa 
 
 ly, unsus- 
 ling, had 
 went cut 
 Dr a long 
 
 e, nursed 
 de night 
 
 a child 
 iS people 
 )r a time 
 ice, with 
 aine I 
 childish 
 
 01; grew 
 oui! table 
 ell what, 
 fore me, 
 he had 
 , he was 
 snted of 
 
 as I iist- 
 r race — 
 led niy- 
 ace that 
 )w as to 
 rom the 
 All my 
 passion- 
 near me 
 ^d ; and 
 
 1 you as 
 id, mad 
 woman- 
 tion my 
 
 very soul was crying out for, knowing I dared not love you 
 without guilt. Now you know the secret of my coldness 
 and mysterious melancholy. " • 
 
 " I heard often of Germaine ; and his name was like z 
 spear-thrust to my heart. When I was told of his arrest, 
 trial and condemnation for grand larceny, you perhaps may 
 imagine, but I can never tell, exactly what I felt. His name 
 was the theme of every tongue ; and day after day I was 
 forced to listen to the agonizing details, knowing— low as 
 he had fallen, guilty as he might be— he was my husband 
 still. Thank God I through all his ignominy, he had honor 
 enough never to reveal our dark secret. Then came the 
 news of his death; and Heaven forgive me if my heart 
 bounded as I heard it ! 
 
 " Oh, Lord Ernest I you were my first thought. I felt I 
 could dare to love you now as you deserved to be loved, 
 without sinning. I determined to tell you all, and to love 
 you still, even though you spurned me from you forever. 
 Oh, Ernest ! my noble-hearted I may God forever bless you 
 for forgiving me as you have done, and loving me still 1 " 
 
 Her voice ceased, but the dark, eloquent eyes were full 
 of untold love— of love that could never die for all time. 
 
 "My own I— my owni never so well beloved as nowl 
 My Maude 1— my bride !— m«f wife 1 blot out from the leaves 
 of your hfe that dark page— that year of passion, of error, 
 of sorrow and shame. We will never speak or think of it 
 more, sweet Maude. Germaine has gone to answer for 
 what he has done ; if he has sinned while living, so also he 
 has deeply suffered and sorrow-atoned for all. Fier\' pas- 
 sionate and impulsive, if he has wronged others, so also has 
 he been deeply wronged. May God forgive him I " 
 
 " Amen," was the solemn response. 
 
 "And now, Maude, what need of further delay ? When 
 shall this dear hand be mine ? " 
 
 wiii Z^r^""^' y°" ^'^'"^ '^' ^^^' Ernest. I shall have no 
 vo ton n^r". "°''" '^' ""^^^^^d' ^ith all a woman's d^ 
 votion in her deep eyes, " I am yours-yo.rs through life 
 and beyond death, if I may." mrougn Jite, 
 
 .-..-■^'i 
 
~t I i wy :aiva 
 
 J2 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOVA 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE VOICE OF COMING DOOM. 
 
 
 
 . " They spake not a word. 
 
 But like dumb statues or breathless stones, 
 Stared on each other and looked deadly pale." 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 " Oh I positively, your ladyship is looking perfectly daz- 
 zling I I never, no, never saw anybody half so beautiful in 
 my life I Oh, Lady Kate ! isn't she charming ? " And little 
 Miss Clara Jernynghani, in an outburst of enthusiasm, earn- 
 estly clasped her little white hands, flashing with jewels, 
 together, and went off into a look of ecstasy wonderful to 
 behold. 
 
 Lady Kate McGregor, the proud, dark-eyed daughter of 
 an impoverished Scottish nobleman, smiled quietly as she 
 replied : 
 
 "Lady Maude is always lovely, and like all brides, looks 
 doubly so now. How many of the gentlemen will envy 
 Lord Villiers to-night 1 " 
 
 "Yes, indeed I" exclaimed Miss Clara, earnestly "I 
 am quite sure if I was a man (which, thank the gods I I 
 am not), I would be tempted to shoot him, or do something 
 else equally dreadful, for carrying off the reigning belle ! I 
 really don't see how any man in his proper senses could 
 help falling in love with Maude. And yet there's brother 
 George, now, he takes it as coolly as— as— I don't know 
 what." The usual fate of Miss Clara's similes. 
 
 Had Miss Jernyngham's eyes not been so earnestly fixed 
 on a certain superb set of diamonds that lay on a dressing- 
 table near, she might have seen a sudden flush in the dark 
 handsome face of Lady Kate as she spoke, and that the 
 lace on her bosom fluttered perceptibly, as if with the beat- 
 ing of the heart beneath. 
 
 " So Captain Ternvncham does not rar^ ? " ctjh t ^ j.. Tr.._ 
 m a voice not quite steady. 
 
 « 
 
THE VOICE OF COMING DOOM. 
 
 73 
 
 A.RE. 
 
 ictly daz- 
 autiful in 
 And little 
 sm, earn' 
 1 jewels, 
 derful to 
 
 aghter of 
 y as she 
 
 es, looks 
 vill envy 
 
 tiy. " I 
 gods ! I 
 )mething 
 •elle ! I 
 es could 
 i brother 
 I't know 
 
 itly fixed 
 iressing- 
 he dark, 
 that the 
 he beat- 
 
 uy jxiite, 
 
 « 
 
 " No," answered Miss Clara, her eyes dancing from the 
 blinding river of diamond-light on the table to a magnificent 
 bridal veil lying near— "no; which is a horrid proof of his 
 insensibility. The fact is, George never was in love in his 
 life, and never will be, so far as I can see. He will, most 
 likely, die an old bachelor, if some rich heiress does not 
 take pity on him, marry him, and pay his debts, before long. 
 
 Did you see the Duke of B this evening, though. Lady 
 
 Kate ? What a dear old creature it is I Going about shak- 
 ing so, like a lot of Mi/ic mange. I'm going to marry him 
 some day, for the family diamonds. Worth while, eh ? " 
 
 " Miss Jernyngham is herself the best judge' of that," 
 coldly replied Lady Kate, her handsome face growing proud 
 and pale, as she listened to Miss Clara's speech about her 
 brother. 
 
 " Really, Lady Maude, it's my duty to tell you you are 
 looking perfectly bewildering to-night, as all brides should 
 look. If Lord Villiers had never been in love with you be- 
 fore, he must certainly have fallen into that melancholy 
 predicament this evening," said little Miss Clara, dancing 
 off on a new tack. " This orange wreath and bridal veil 
 are vastly becoming. I am sure no one would think you 
 had been ill this morning, to look at you now." 
 
 It was a pleasant scene on which the light of the rose- 
 shaded chandelier fell. The superbly-furnished dressing- 
 room of Lady Maude Percy was all ablaze with numberless 
 little jets of flame, which the immense mirrors magnified four- 
 fold. Priceless jewels lay carelessly strewn about on the 
 mlaid dressing-table, mingling with rare bouquets, laces, 
 gloves, and tiny satin slippers, that would scarcely have 
 fitted Cinderella herself. Lady Kate McGregor, proud 
 and stately, in white satin, and point lace, and pale, delicate 
 pearls, stood leaning against the marble mantel, her hand- 
 some eyes growing cold and scornful whenever they rested 
 on Miss Clara Jernyngham. That frivolous little lady, 
 quite bewildering in the same snowy robes, was all uncon- 
 scious of those icy glances, as she fluttered, like a butterfly 
 over a rose, around another lady standing before a full- 
 length mirror, while her maid arranged the mist like bridal 
 veii on her head, and set the orange wreath on her dark, 
 shining curls. 
 
 ^ 
 
r---«^ML^., ~~~jsm:.k z.mn 
 
 aiva 
 
 74 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 It was Lady Maude Percy ; and this was her bridal ••»'«. 
 Peerlessly lovely she looked as she stood there, wit* t.h*i 
 light of a happy heart flushing her rounded cheeks, s\7<'.'lljng 
 her white bosom, and flashing from her dark, Syrian eyes. 
 The bridal dress she wore was worth a duke's ransom. It 
 fell around her like a summer cloud, three glistening folds 
 of richest lace, so light, so gauzy, so brilliant, that it looked 
 like a flashing mist. Diamonds that blinded the eyes with 
 their insufferal' hi rose and fell on her white bosom 
 
 with every tun: ii!i la arob of the heart beneath. Like a 
 floating cloud fell over all the bridal veil, and glittering 
 above it ros* the orange wreath of rarest jewels. There 
 was a streaming light in her magnificent eyes, a living, 
 glowing flush on her cheek, all unusual there; and little 
 Miss Clara stood up and clasneH h' - hands as she gazed in 
 speechless admiration. 
 
 It was one month after the interview recorded in the last 
 chapter. Lord Villiers, with a lover's impatience, would 
 consent to wait no longer ; and as Lady Maude had not 
 opposed him, this day had been fixed. The marriage was 
 to have taken place at St. George's, in the morning ; but 
 early that eventful day the bride had been seized with so 
 severe a headache that she was unable to leave her room. 
 Therefore, the ceremony had been necessarily delayed until 
 
 the evening, when the august bishop of C himself was 
 
 to come and perform the nuptial rite at the Percy mansion. 
 Some were inclined to look upon this interruption ''n the 
 light of an evil omen ; but Lady Maude only smhed, and 
 inwardly thought that, as his bride, nothing on earth could 
 ever dariven her life more. How little did she dream of the 
 bitter cup of sorrow she was destined yet to drain to the 
 dregs! How little did she dream of tit dark, scathing, 
 unresting revenge that hovered around r like a vulture 
 waiting for its prey 1 
 
 The old earl, her father, who was soi.;ewhat old-fashioned 
 in his notion,' and liked anci nt custcms kept up, had de- 
 termined his t. ightei's brida. should .^e celebrated by the 
 grandest ball of the season. 
 
 "I don't like 'h'S new-fangled way yoimg people nowa- 
 days have, of eetting married ^ the mornintr, coming home 
 for a hasty breakfast, and then tearing off7 pc",t haste, fo* 
 
 
THE VOICE OF COMING DOOM. 
 
 75 
 
 ( 
 
 nowa- 
 
 France, or Germany, or somewhere, as if they wanted 
 change of scene to reconcilf^ them to what they have done," 
 said the old gentleman, i trict confidence, to Lord De 
 Courcy. " It wasn't so in , time. Then we had all our 
 friends assembled, and enj( yed ourselves together over a 
 bottle or two of old wine until morning. Ah I those were 
 the days." And the old earl heaved a deep sigh, and looked 
 ruefully at his gouty foot. 
 
 Resolving, therefore, to keep up those halcyon days at all 
 hazards, the great saloons of the stately hall were thrown 
 open, and now they were filled with the elite of the city, all 
 waiting impatiently for the coming oi the bride. 
 
 Lord Hugh De Courcy, suave, stately, courteous, and 
 bland, was there, conversing with the father of the bride, 
 and two or three of the most distinguished politicians of the 
 day — his eyes now and then wandering Trom the faces of 
 his friends, to rest proudly on the handsome form of his 
 son, who, in the absence of Lady Maude, was the cynosure 
 of all eyes, the " observed of all observers." 
 
 The venerable and high-salaried bishop, attended by 
 several other " journ* man soul-savers," as Captain George 
 Jernyngham irreverct.c.y called them, was there, too, in full 
 pontificals, all ready, and waiting to tie the Gordian knot. 
 
 The rooms were filled with the low hum of conversation. 
 There were waving of fans, and flirting of bouquets, and 
 dropping of handkerchiefs, and rustling silks and satins, 
 and flashing of jewels, and turning of many bright, impa- 
 tient eyes towards the door where the bride and her attend- 
 ants were presently expected to make their appearance. 
 Ladies coquetted, and flirted, and turned masculine heads 
 with brilliant smiles and entrancing glances, and gentlemen 
 bowed and complimented, and talked all sorts of nonsense, 
 
 St like gentlemen in general, and al' things went " merry 
 I marri.ifre-bell." 
 
 Starring by themselves, as when we first saw them, were 
 Lord Lrnest Villiers and his friend. Captain Jernyngham, 
 of the Guards. 
 
 Handsome, stately, and noble, Lord Villiers alway 'coked ; 
 but more so now than ever. What man does not look well 
 ■^yV>f>r> Vjopny fniiltles.s in costume and ab'-at to 1'' married 
 to the woman he loves ? 
 
i,^mi/mmm^ffM 
 
 'SrslCl; 'WJWL! 
 
 •31 vn 
 
 76 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 *! 
 
 Captain Jernyngham, first groomsman, etc., was also look- 
 irig remarkably well— a fact of which the young gentleman 
 himself was well aware ; and lounging in his usual listless 
 attitude against a marble column, he languidly admired his 
 aristocratically small foot in its shining boot. 
 
 " There are some men born to good luck, just as others 
 are born to be hanged "—he was saying, with the air of a 
 man delivering an oration—" born with a silver spoon in 
 their mouths, to use a common, but rather incredible figuie 
 of speech. You, w/ /or Villiers, are one of them ; you 
 were born above the power of Fortune— consequently, the 
 toadying jade shows you a face all smiles, and gives the 
 cold shoulder to i ;or devils like mv. who really stand in 
 need of her good graces. This world's a humbug ! Vir- 
 tuous poverty, illustr.ited in the person of Captain George 
 Jernyngham, is snubbed and sent to Coventry, while potent, 
 rich, and depraved youths like you are borne along on beds 
 of rose.v Yes, I repeat it, the world's a humbug 1 society's 
 a nuisance! friendship's a word of two syllables found in 
 dictionaries, nowhere else I and cigars, kid gloves and pale 
 ale are the only th'uyr^ worth living for. There's an ' opin- 
 ion as is an opinion.' " 
 
 " Oh, come now, Jernyngham ! things are by no means 
 so desperate as you would have me believe," said Lord 
 Villiers, laughin^^ " Young, good-looking, and adored by 
 the ladies, what more would you h.nve .^ " 
 
 " Well, there is a vulgar prejudice existing in favor of 
 bread and butter, and neither of the three items mentioned 
 wdl exactly supply me with thnt useful article. I intend 
 trying the matrimonial dodge, some day, if I can pick up 
 anything under fifty, with three or four thousand a year, 
 who wants a nice youth to spend it for her." 
 " Love, of course, being out of the question." 
 " Love I " said the guardsman, contemptuously, " I lost 
 all faith in that article since I was fourteen years old, when 
 I fell in love with our cook, a young lady of six-and-thirty. 
 My father forbade the banns ; she ran off with a hump- 
 backed chimney-sweep, and I awoke to the unpleasant con- 
 sciousness that ' Love's young dream ' was all bosh." 
 " And you have been heart whole ever since ? " 
 " Well, I rather think so. I have felt a peculiar sensa- 
 
THE VOICE OF COMING DOOM. 
 
 77 
 
 tlon under my vest-pocket now and then, when Kate Mc- 
 Gregor's black eyes met mine. But pshaw I where's the 
 use of talking ? bhe's as poor as a church-mouse, and so 
 am I ; and, unless we should set up a chandler-shop, there 
 would be a paragraph in the Times headed : ' Melancholy 
 death by starvation. The bodies of an unfortune couple 
 were found yesterday in the attic of a rickety, six-story 
 house, and the coroner's inquest returned a verdict of 
 '• Death for want of something to eat." The unfortunate 
 man was dressed in a pair of .spurs and a military shako- 
 having pawned the rest of his clothing, and held in his 
 hand the jugular bone of a red herring half-devoured.' Not 
 any, thank you 1 " 
 
 Captain GQax^n^ stroked his mustache complacently, while 
 Lord Villiers laughed. 
 
 " A pleasant picture that I Well, I shouldn't wonder if 
 it's what ' love in a cottage ' often comes to." 
 
 A servant approached at this moment, and whispered 
 something to Lord Villiers. 
 
 " The ladies are waiting, Jernyngham," he said hastily. 
 " Call Howard, and come along." 
 
 He hastened out to the lofty hall, and at the foot of the 
 grand staircase he was joined by Jcrnygham and Howard, 
 the second groomsman, Lord De Courcy, Earl Percy and a 
 few other intimate family friends. 
 
 The bride and her attendants had already left her " maiden 
 bower,'" and Lady Maude was met at the foot of the stairs 
 by Lord Villiers, who (licw her arm within his, and whis- 
 pered, in a thrilling voice : 
 
 " My bride 1 my wife 1 my queen 1 my beautiful Maude ! 
 never so beautiful as now I Mine, mine forever 1 " 
 
 " Yes, yours forever 1 " she softly and earnestly said, 
 looking up in his face with a joy too intense for smiles. 
 
 There was no time for further speech. Captain Jernyng- 
 ham had drawn the willing hand of the proud Kate within 
 his arm, and felt his heart throb in a most unaccountable 
 manner beneath her light touch. Young Howard took 
 possession of our gay Miss Clara, whose whole heart and 
 soul was bent on the conquest she was about to make of 
 
 that '■ dear, old thing," the Duke of B , and the bridal 
 
 (orte^e passed mto the grand, liower-strewn saloon. 
 
ism-wwjwij 
 
 -my/a 
 
 
 78 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 The company parted on either side as they advanced, and 
 under the battery of many hundred eyes they approached 
 the bishop. Book in hand, that reverend personage stood, 
 patiently awaiting their coming, and looked approvingly 
 over his spectacles at the beautiful bride and nandsome, 
 stately bridegroom as they stood up before him. 
 
 And then, amid the profoundest silence, the marriage 
 ceremony was begun. 
 
 You might have heard a pin drop, so deep was the still- 
 ness that reigned— as every one held their breath to catch 
 each word of that most interesting of rites— doubly inter- 
 esting to ladies. Of the three standing before him, one 
 heart was beating with a joy too deep and intense for words 
 to tell. Lady Kate's handsome eyes stole quick glances 
 now and then at the gay, young guardsman, as she thought, 
 with a thrilling heart, how much she could love him, but 
 for the humiliation of loving unsought. Little Miss Clara, 
 ^yith her head poised on one side, and her finger on her 
 lip, was building a castle in Spain, where she saw herself 
 blazing with " family diamonds," and addressed as 
 
 " Duchess of B ." As for the gentlemen, I don't intend 
 
 describing their sensation — never having been a gentleman 
 myself (more's the pity I) but will leave it to the imagination 
 of my readers. 
 
 The last "I will" had been uttered; and amid that 
 breathless silence Ernest Seyton, Viscount Villiers, and 
 Maude Percy were pronounced man and wife. 
 
 There was an instant's pause, and the guests were about 
 to press forward to offer their congratulations, when pealing 
 through the silence came an unseen voice, in clear, bell-like 
 tones that thrilled every heart, with the words : 
 
 " An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a 
 life I My curse, and the curse of Heaven rest on all of the 
 house of De Courcy ! " 
 
 Blanched with wonder, horror and consternation, every 
 face was turned in the direction whence the voice came ; but 
 nothing was to be seen. So sudden, so unlocked for was 
 this awful interruption; so terrific was that deep, hollow 
 voice, that the shrieks they would have uttered were frozen 
 to the lips of the terrified women. And while thev still 
 stood speechless, horror-struck, gazing in silence, the 'deep, 
 

 and 
 
 THE VOICE OF COMING DOOM. 
 
 79 
 
 direful voice pealed again through the silent apartment like 
 
 the knell of doom. 
 
 " As the rich man who stole the one ewe-lamb was ac- 
 cursed so also be all who bear the name of De Courcy ! 
 May their bridal robes turn to funeral-palls 1 may their hours 
 of rejoicing end in blackest misery 1 Blighted be their lives ! 
 doomed be all they love— hated by earth, and accursed by 
 
 Heaven 1 " , i .i u *u 
 
 The voice ceased. A wild shriek resounded through the 
 room and the bride fell fainting on the ground. 
 
 In an instart all was confusion. Ladies shrieked and 
 screamed ; servants came rushing in ; gentlemen, pale and 
 horror-struck, hurried hither and thither in wildest confusion. 
 All was uproar and dismay. Lord Villiers, with his sense- 
 less bride in his arms, was struggling to force his way from 
 the room ; and then high above the din resounded the clear, 
 commanding voice of Earl De Courcy : 
 
 " Let all be ouiet 1 There is no danger 1 Secure the 
 doors, and look for the intruder. This is the trick of some 
 evil-minded person to create a sensadon." 
 
 His words broke the spell of superstitious terror that 
 botjnd them. Every one flew to obey— guests, servants and 
 all. Each room was searched— every corner and crevice 
 was examined. If a pin had been lost, it must have been 
 found ; but they searched in vain. The owner of the mys- 
 terious voice could not be discovered. 
 
 Looking in each other's faces, white with wonder, they 
 gave up the fruitless search, and returned to the saloon. 
 
 Like a flock of frightened birds, the ladies, pale with mor- 
 tal apprehension, were huddled together— not daring even 
 to speak. In brief, awe-struck whispers the result was told ; 
 and then, chill with apprehension, the guests began rapidly 
 to disperse. And in less than an hour the stately house of 
 Maude Percy was wrapt in silence, solitude and gloom. 
 The bride, surr 'unded by her attendants, lay still unconscious, 
 while all over London the news was spreading of the appal- 
 ling termination of the wedding. 
 
 deep, 
 
«»fai»ry:;;; 
 
 T 
 
 :^ivn 
 
 I-/ 
 
 > r 
 
 i i 
 
 80 
 
 the; gypsy QUEEN'S vow. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LITTLE ERM INI E. 
 
 " Sleep, little baby, sleep, 
 Not in thy cradle bed. 
 Not on thy mother's breast, 
 But with the quiet dead." 
 
 — Mrs. Southey. 
 
 Into the great dark gulf of the Past, nearly two years 
 ike two waves from an ever-flowing sea, had vanished! 
 freighted with their usual modicum of sorrow, joy, happiness 
 and despair. •- ^ r-r > 
 
 And what changes had those two years brought to the 
 various personages connected with our tale ? 
 
 First, Mr. O. C. Toosypegs, in whom I hope my fair 
 readers feel an interest, had closed the eyes of his rich uncle 
 pocketed two thousand pounds, attired himself in the ver;^ 
 deepest weeds, and began to turn his thoughts toward Dis- 
 mal Hollow, and all " the real nice people around there." 
 
 Miss Clara Jernynham had obtained the desire of her 
 
 ' ffmil i-'"' Tm"^^''' ^'^^^ °f ^•'" -"d, blazing in 
 family diamonds," was toasted as one of the reigning 
 be^auties and belles of the London Aauf ton. As to thaf 
 dear old thing," the duke, the pretty little duchess troubled 
 her head very httle about him; and he was left at home, to 
 r.Wh '^'"i^^^^^.^'th alternate fits of the palsy and gout. 
 and the other diseases old gentlemen are heir to. ' 
 
 Captain George Jernyngham had risen to the rank of 
 coionei, now, having been promoted for his bravery in a 
 certain action ; and an old uncle, whom he had hardly heard 
 01 Detore, coming at the same time from tlie East Indies 
 with an uncountable lot of money, and the liver disease 
 was accommodating enough to die in the nick of time, leav- 
 ing ah uis wealth to our gay guardsman. These two strokes 
 
LITTLE ERMINIE. 
 
 8l 
 
 of good fortune enabled Master George to offer his hand, 
 with a safe conscience, to handsome Lady Kate, which he 
 did, without even hinting at such a thing as a chandler's 
 shop. Lady Kate showed her good taste in the selection of 
 a husband, by accepting him on the spot ; and two weeks 
 after, the Times, under the heading of " Marriage in High 
 Life," announced the melancholy fact that Colonel Jernyng- 
 ham was a bachelor no longer. 
 
 Of the gipey Ketura, nothing was known. Now and then, 
 at intervals, Earl De Courcy would catch a glimpse of a 
 dark, wild face, with streaming hair, and hollow, sunken 
 eyes, flitting after him like a haunting shadow from the 
 grave. Wherever he went, night or day, that dusky, omi- 
 nous shadow followed, dogging his steps like a sleuth-hound, 
 until the dread of it grew to be a horror unspeakable — the 
 vague, mysterious terror of his life. No precautions could 
 rid him of it, until it became the very bane of his existence. 
 If he walked, looking over his shoulder he would see that 
 tall, spectral figure coming after ; if he sat in his carriage, 
 and it chanced to stop for a moment, a white, wild face, with 
 great burning eyes, would gleam in upon him for an instant 
 with deadly hate and menace in every feature, and then van- 
 ish like a face from the dead. Neither night or day was he 
 safe from his terrible pursuer, until the dread of this ghostly 
 ghoul wore the very flesh off his bones, reduced him to a 
 mere living skeleton, poisoned every joy of his existence, 
 made death and life a blank and a horror, until the birth of 
 his little granddaughter. And the only tender feeling in his 
 stony heart centered in her ; she became the only thing that 
 rendered life desirable. His love for the child amounted 
 to idolatry ; in its infant innocence and beauty, it seemed 
 like a protecting angel between him and his terrible pursuer, 
 lighting the gloom of that awful haunting shadow with the 
 brightness of unseen wings. 
 
 The last cold gleam of yellow sunshine faded from the 
 dull March sky. Night, with black, starless, moonless face, 
 with cold, piercing wind and sleet, wc3 falling over Lon- 
 don. 
 
 The gorgftous rooms, the glittering salons, the spacious 
 halls of the De Courcy mansion were one blaze of light and 
 magnificence, just as they were that very night two years 
 
: I wa 
 
 82 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I 
 
 ■ ' ■? 
 
 before— that awful night of darkest doom. By all but one 
 that night was forgotten now ; for a gay family-party were 
 to meet to celebrate the first birthnight of Lord DeCourcy's 
 grandchild. Strange, that on the very anniversary of that 
 dreadful night, another scion should be born to the house 
 of De Courcy. 
 
 The guests had not yet begun to assemble ; and stand- 
 ing by himself, wrapt in gloomy thought, the earl gazed 
 darkly out into the deepening night. You would scarcely 
 have known him, so changed had he grown by the blighting 
 miluence of that horrible incubus. Thin and haggard, with 
 sunken eyes, projecting brows, snow-white hair and care- 
 worn look, he stood the very shadow of his former self— a 
 stricken, bowed, gloomy old man. 
 
 Through the inky darkness the rays from the street-lamp 
 sent long lines of light and shade across the pavement 
 That very night, two years before, a face, white with 
 woman's utmost woe, had gleamed upon him in that very 
 light, as he stood in that self-same spot. He thought of it 
 now with a convulsive shudder ; and the flickering light 
 seemed like a finger of blood-red flame pointing up to 
 heaven, and invoking its wrath upon him. With an in- 
 ward presentiment he looked through the darkness as if ex- 
 pecting that same dark, unearthly face to appear ; and, lo ! 
 while he gazed, as if she had sprung up through the earth, 
 a tall, shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, and that 
 awful spectral face, he dreaded more than that of the arch 
 fiend himself, gleamed white and awful through the gloom 
 She beheld him there in the light, and again that long 
 bony arm was raised, and that flickering finger pointed up 
 to the lowering sky above, in darkest, voiceless menace. 
 Then, flitting away in the darkness, to which she seemed to 
 belong, the ghastly vision was gone, and Earl De Courcy 
 stood frozen with horror to the spot, unable to speak or 
 move. 
 
 At that same hour, a far pleasanter scene was going on 
 in one of the rooms above. 
 
 It was the dressing-room of Lady Maude, into which we 
 once before introduced the reader. Once again she stood 
 before the mirror while her maid assisted at her toilet, and 
 chatted with the little Duchess of B., who, magnificent in 
 
LITTLE ERMINIE. 
 
 83 
 
 II but one 
 party were 
 e Courcy's 
 iry of that 
 the house 
 
 nd stand- 
 arl gazed 
 1 scarcely 
 : blighting 
 2^ard, with 
 and care- 
 er self — a 
 
 reet-lamp 
 lavement, 
 hite with 
 that very 
 ught of it 
 ing light 
 ig up to 
 th an in- 
 ' as if ex- 
 
 and, lo ! 
 he earth, 
 and that 
 the arch 
 e gloom, 
 [lat long, 
 inted up 
 menace, 
 semed to 
 
 Courcy 
 speak or 
 
 going on 
 
 ifhich we 
 le stood 
 lilet, and 
 ficent in 
 
 white velvet and emeralds, sat (or rather lay) half-buried in 
 the downy depths of a lounge — having taken advantage of 
 her girlhood's intimacy with Lady Maude to come early, 
 and indulge in what she phrased the " sweetest of talks," 
 before she should descend to the drawing-room, and begin 
 her nightly occupation of breaking masculine hearts. 
 
 Very fair, very sweet, very lovely looked Lady Maude, as 
 she stood there with a soft smile on her gentle lips, and a 
 calm, deep joy welling from the brooding depths of her soft 
 dark eyes. 
 
 Her dress was white, even as it had been that night — 
 white blonde over white satin — with her favorite jewels 
 (pale oriental pearls) wreathing her shining ringlets of jet, 
 and fluttering and shimmering in sparks of subdued fire on 
 her white arms and bosom. The lovely young face looking 
 out from those silky curls was sweeter and fairer now in 
 her gentle maturity than it had ever been in the brilliant 
 beauty of her girlhood. Scarcely twenty, her form had not 
 attained the roundness of perfect womanhood, but was 
 slight and slender as a girl of fourteen, yet perfect in its 
 elegant contour. 
 
 " And the baby is well ? " the duchess was languidly say- 
 ing, as she played with a beautiful little water-spaniel. 
 
 " Quite well, thank you," replied the low, sweet voice of 
 Lady Maude, with her soft, musing smile. 
 
 " I need not ask for his lordship, for I saw him last night 
 at the bal masque of Madame la Comtesse De St. Rimy I " 
 said the duchess, with some animation. " He was looking 
 quite kingly as ' Leicester.' By the way, Lady Maude, why 
 were you not there ? " 
 
 " Erminie seerued slightly indisposed, I fancied, and I 
 would not leave her," answered the young mother. 
 
 " Is it possible ? Well, I am very fond of children ; bi?* 
 I do not think I could give up so brilliant an affair as last 
 night's masquerade even for such a sweet little angel as Er- 
 minie. What do you think, I made a complete conquest of 
 that handsome melancholy Turkish ambassador, who is all 
 the rage now ! I had him all to myself the whole even- 
 ing 1 " 
 
 Was his 
 
 gravely 
 
 grace 
 
 present ? 
 
 
 T -,H' 
 
 Maude, a little 
 
 .v.,-#- 
 

 .-2L,- 
 
 ETi« 
 
 Ed 
 
 84 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 The question took the little duchess so much by surprise, 
 that she raised herself on her elbow, opened her blue eyes 
 to their widest extent, and stared in silence at her ques- 
 tioner. Then, seeing Lady Maude was quite serious, she 
 lay back among the velvet pillows, and burst into a silvery 
 peal of laughter. 
 
 " His grace I Oh, that is too good I Why, Lady Maude, 
 the last time I saw the poor, dear, old man, which is a week 
 or two ago, he could not stir either hand or foot, and had 
 to be carried about by that odious Italian valet of his, in a 
 chair, whenever he wanted to move. The dear, helpless 
 old thing 1 he did look so old and so absurd, shaking all 
 over with that disagreeable palsy of his, that I could not 
 bear to go into his room since. My maid, Fanchette, al- 
 ways finds out how he is, and telis me. But the idea of his 
 going to the masquerade ! Oh, dear me I " 
 
 And the affectionate wife went off into another low, musi- 
 cal peal that made the pretty, soft-eyed water-spaniel shake 
 his necklace of tiny silver bells from sympathy, till they 
 tingled again. < 
 
 Lady Maude looked as she felt— a little shocked— at this 
 heartless levity ; and madame la duchesse perceivin-^ it, be- 
 gan: 
 
 " Now, Maude, there is no use in your looking so pro- 
 foundly scandalized about it, because I have done nothing 
 so very naughty. You don't expect me to go and shut my- 
 self up, and nurse him— do you ? Though I dare say you, 
 having the elements of a martyr in you, would do it just as 
 soon as not ! " 
 
 " I would not flirt with that Turkish ambassador, at all 
 events ! " said Lady Maude, in a tone of slight rebuke. 
 " Have you not heard he has four wives already ? " 
 
 "Perhaps he thinks I'll make a fifth some day! "said 
 the duchess, laughing. " Well, I wouldn't mind much ; he 
 is handsome enough for anything. There I I knew I would 
 shock you again. How saintly you have grown of late. 
 Maude ! " 
 
 " Oh, Clara I— Clara 1 what a mad little flirt you are I " 
 said Lady Maude, half-smiling— half sorrowful. 
 
 dog 
 
 Well, you 
 this is ! 
 
 see it's 
 I made 
 
 my 
 
 
 ^c - i:«.i.i 
 
 nature. What 
 a mariage de convenance ; and what 
 
 
LITTLE ERMINIE. 
 
 85 
 
 T surpnse, 
 blue eyes 
 her ques- 
 rious, she 
 a silvery 
 
 y Maude, 
 is a week 
 and had 
 his, in a 
 , helpless 
 aking all 
 ;ould not 
 ;hette, al- 
 ea of his 
 
 3w, musi- 
 
 iel shake 
 
 till thev 
 
 — at this 
 ng it, be- 
 so pro- 
 nothing 
 shut my- 
 say you, 
 t just as 
 
 >r, at all 
 rebuke. 
 
 r I " said 
 
 uch ; he 
 
 I would 
 
 of late, 
 
 u are 1 " 
 
 f 
 
 nd what 
 
 ■3 '•t'-fls. 
 
 other result could you anticipate ? I married the Duke of 
 B. for his coronet ; he married me because he wanted some 
 one to nurse him, and poultice up his constitution, and sit 
 at the head of his table, and make herself generally useful. 
 I got what I aimed at ; and if he has not, it shows I am the 
 better politician of the two. Stand upon your hind-legs, 
 Prince 1 And, therefore, oh, wise and discreet Lady Vil- 
 !■ ^rs 1 model wife and happy mother, you must not expect 
 one who is neither to do otherwise than as she dues. If 
 my sole earthly happiness consists in a ' coach-and-four,' 
 superb diamonds, an unlimited number of lovers, and a box 
 at the opera, why, I rather think I should be permitted to 
 enjoy them, since I am really not a bad girl after all, and 
 never mean to be. And now, as your toilet is completed, 
 and I have made quite a long speech, will your ladyship be 
 good enough to lead the way to the nursery ? I want to see 
 this little stray angel of yours before I descend among the 
 sinners below." 
 
 Smiling, and passing her arm around the skader waist of 
 the thoughtless little duchess. Lady Maude passed with her 
 from the room, and the two young girls entered the nur- 
 sery. 
 
 It was a beautiful room, ali draped in white and pale- 
 green, pure and peaceful as a glimpse of heaven. And in 
 the center of the room stood a little rosewood crib, with 
 snowy hangings, wherein lay a young infant, so surpassingly 
 lovely that the duchess might well call it a " stray angel." 
 
 Little Erminie — sweet Erminie — the child of noble, princely 
 Lord Villie^s and beautiful Maude Percy — how shall I de- 
 scribe her? Vi ':) not often young babies are really pretty 
 — doting granaiiM-immas and aunties to the contrary not- 
 withstanding ; but this one really was. A snow-white com- 
 plexion, with the softest pink tia^e on the rounded cheeks 
 and lips, as faint and delica!-^ as the heart of a sea-shell; a 
 profusion of palest golden hri-- falK-ig in slight, rippling 
 waves, like raveled silk, on t,, white, rounded forehead. 
 Two tiny blue-veined hands gr^^ped, even in sleep, a pretty 
 French doll, holding it close to the soft, white bosom, and 
 tlie long, golden lashes lay brightly on the rosy, sleep-flushed 
 chucks. 
 
 The lovely face of Lady Maude flushed with pride, love 
 
 I 
 
iHSonr 
 
 imLym 
 
 86 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i 
 
 |3t 
 
 2^: 
 
 14'' 
 
 and happiness ; and bending down, softly as the west wind 
 kisses the sleeping flowers, her lips touched the babe's. 
 
 Light as the caress was, it awoke little Erminie. The 
 golden lashes slowly lifted, and a pair of sweet blue eyes 
 looked fearlessly up. 
 
 " Mamma," she cried, joyfully, holding up her rosy little 
 arms, " mamma, tate Minnie." 
 
 •• Oh, the little darling I " exclaimed the duchess, catch- 
 ing her impulsively up, and half-smothering her with kisses. 
 " Oh, did you ever see such a sweet little cherub ? Oh, 
 there never was such a lovely little angel 1 It's just the 
 sweetest, dearest, b'essed, tidsy ickle sing that ever was, so 
 it is 1 " 
 
 Baby, who evidently was an adept in broken English, and 
 fully understood that profoundly-mysterious language known 
 as " baby-talk," immediately, as if in reward for these ex- 
 clamatory sentences, emphasized by the strongest italics, 
 held up her rosy little mouth to be kissed again, being evi- 
 dently (like all of her sex) fond of that operation. 
 
 " Oh, I never never, saw such a perfectly lovely little 
 duck 1 " exclaimed the Duchess Clara, in a sudden burst of 
 enthusiasm. " Such sweet hair, and such splendid eyes 1 
 Who does she look like, Maude? Not like you, I'm sure." 
 
 " She has her father's blue eyes and fair hair," said the 
 happy young mother, smiling at Clara's emphasis, which 
 rendered every other word not only into italics, but, in some 
 cases, even into capitals. 
 
 " Oh, she is the most charming little ducks o' diamonds I 
 ever beheld in my life 1 Such a beautiful skin, just like 
 white satin ! " reiterated the duchess, punctuating her re- 
 marks by a series of short, sharp little kisses, that made 
 sweet Erminie open her large blue eyes in subdued wonder. 
 ** Oh, Maude I I don't wonder you are so saintly, with this 
 little beautiful seraph ever with you 1 Sweet little angel 
 Erminie 1 thou almost persuadest me to be a Christian 1 " 
 
 There was a soft tap at the door, and the nurse, who had 
 hitherto remained in the back-ground, and listened with 
 professional stoicism to these raptures, went and opened it ; 
 and Lord Villiers entered. 
 
 He started in some surprise, as he beheld how the room 
 
LITTLE ERMINIE. 
 
 87 
 
 tne room 
 
 was tenanted, and then advanced with a smile. Lady 
 Maude, with more than the adoring love of two years before, 
 went over, and, laying her hand on his shoulder, said : 
 
 " Clara wanted to see Erminie before we descended to the 
 drawing-room, dearest Ernest, and has fallen even more 
 deeply in love with her than she has with the Turkish am- 
 bassador, the fortunate possessor of the interestingly melan- 
 choly dark eyes." 
 
 Lord Villiers smi' d, and looked, with eyes full of love, 
 on sweet Erminie, "lO sprung up, crowing gleefully, and 
 crying, " Papa 1 " 
 
 "Wait one moment, till I see. Why, she's the very 
 picture of your lordship 1 Keep still, little girl, till I com- 
 pare you with your papa. There's the same large, blue, 
 Saxon eyes ; the same fair, curling hair ; the same high, 
 princely forehead ; the same handsome mouth (no harm to 
 compliment a married man — eh, Maude) ; the same long, 
 aristocratic, white fingers — your very image, my lord ! " 
 
 " I had rather she looked like Maude," said the young 
 husband, encircling his wife's small waist fondly with his 
 arm. 
 
 " Well, so she does when she smiles. Don't you perceive 
 the resemblance now ? Miss Erminie, will you be still ? 
 What a restless little creature it is." 
 
 " Papa, papa, tate Minnie," crowed that small individual, 
 holding out her little arms, and looking pathetic and im- 
 ploring. 
 
 " Here, papa, take the young lady," said the duchess, 
 depositing her in the young man's arms, and shaking out 
 her glittering plumage, slightly discomposed by the frantic 
 exertions of the " young lady " in question, " She is fonder 
 of gentlemen than ladies, I perceive. She wouldn't be a 
 true female, though, if she wasn't." 
 
 Miss Erminie, in a paroxysm of delight, immediately 
 buried her " long, aristocratic, white fingers " in papa's thick 
 burnished locks, with variations of pulling his whiskers and 
 mustache and then tenderly kissing the above hirsute ap- 
 pendages to make them well again. And papa, like all 
 other young papas, looked, as if he thought her the most 
 
 V">»»r1i»>-fiil HiKif th"?t a\Tar M\rt>A Qn/4 rlanrArl hpr iin unti 
 
..■iffm0' 
 
 '^'SH 
 
 :aiwr 
 
 88 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 U' 
 
 W^ 
 
 down until she forgot all sense of etiquette and propriety 
 and fairly screamed witli delight. 
 
 " Now, nurse, take Miss Minnie," he said, rising at last, 
 and latighingly shaking back his thick, fail hair. " Come, 
 Minnie, be good now; papa must go." 
 
 Still crowing as if she considered she had done some- 
 thing rather extraordinary than otherwise, Miss Minnie 
 allowed herself to be taken b} the nurse, and sa.v pnpa and 
 mamma, and the little lady in velvet and diamonds, mile a 
 good-bye, and turn to leave the room. 
 
 " Foolish little wife," said Lord Villiers, laughing, as he 
 saw Lady Maude cast a " longing, lingering look behind " 
 at her heart's treasure, "can you not even tear yourself 
 away from your darling for a few hours, without straining 
 your eyes to catch a last glimpse ? " 
 
 " I know it is foolish," said Lady Maude, half apologet- 
 ically, yet still keeping her yearning eyes fixed on little 
 Erminie ; " but I feel so strangely about leaving her to- 
 night. You will be sure to take good care of her, Martha? " 
 
 " Sartin, my lady," responded Martha, rather offended at 
 their want of trust in her care. 
 
 " Now, Maude," said Lord Villiers, amused at her still- 
 apparent anxiety. 
 
 Half-laughing, half-reluctant, she allowed herself to be 
 drawn from the room, and saw the door close between her 
 and her child. 
 
 Down in the spacious drawing-room, Lady Maude soon 
 found her<^e!f fully occupied in rec iving the guests, who 
 began to rr.<; thick and fast. But this did not remove 
 her stran:. .: .^uxiety concerning Erminie; and about an hour 
 after, alie 'Aok- away for a moment to pay a hurried visit to 
 the nursery. 
 
 All was calm and peaceful there. Little Erminie lay 
 asleep once more in her crib, and Martha sat dozing in her 
 rocking-chair. Half ashamed of her groundless fears. Lady 
 Maude lightly kissed her sleeping infant and hurried away. 
 Little did she dream how many suns would rise and set — 
 how many years would come and go — before they two should 
 meet again. 
 
 The night in mirth and music v/as passin"" on and the 
 hour of midnight approached. 
 
 mmmimmmmmimmmmmmmmimmmsm'mmsmm 
 
LITTLE KRMINIE. 
 
 89 
 
 propriety, 
 
 ig at last, 
 " Come, 
 
 >ne some- 
 i Minnie 
 pnpa and 
 s, Mnile a 
 
 ng, as he 
 
 behind " 
 
 yourself 
 
 straining 
 
 apologet- 
 on little 
 : her to- 
 lartha?" 
 ended at 
 
 her still- 
 
 If to be 
 ween her 
 
 ide soon 
 ;sts, who 
 : remove 
 : an hour 
 i visit to 
 
 linie lay 
 ig in her 
 rs, Lady 
 ed away, 
 id set — 
 o should 
 
 The Duchess of B.. Earl De C< cy, and Lady Maude 
 were standing conversing together, when, as if struck by a 
 sudden thought, the duchess exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh ! by the way, Lady Maude, do 30U recollect tne 
 str.mge voire that interrupted the ceremon) the night you 
 wore marri ■* H.no you ever tliscovered w at was?" 
 
 Both Lady Maud ml the earl grew pale. 
 
 "Never' The whole ffair has been v pped in mys- 
 tery ever .since," said I/idy Maude, with a slight mdder. 
 
 " Dear mc, how frightened I was that night! ' said the 
 duchess, arranging her bracelets. " It was quite dreadful ; 
 the most myslt rious thing — just like a gh^st, or something 
 in a play." 
 
 The duchess broke off suddenly nnd listened, as the great 
 hall-clock tolled the hour of twelve. 
 
 And just as the last stroke died away, that same terrific 
 voice they had heard years before p< 'f d lurough the spa- 
 cious room like the deep tolling of a 'i-bell. 
 
 "Two y< ars ago this night a lega ler was committed, 
 
 and now the hour of retribution is iiand. The sins of 
 the father shall be visited upon the cliildren, and the chil- 
 dren's children, even to the third and fourth generations. 
 Woe to all the house of De Courcy." 
 
 As the angel of death had suddenly descended in their 
 midst, every face blanched, and every heart stood still with 
 nameless horror. For one moment the silence of the grave 
 reigned, then a wild, piercing shriek was heard through the 
 house, and the nurse Martha, with terror-blanched face, 
 and uplifted arms, rushed into the midst of the assembled 
 guests, screaming: 
 
 " Oh, Miss Minnie ! Miss Minnie ! Miss Minnie ! " 
 
 " Oh, God ! my child 1 " came from the white lips of Lady 
 Maude, in a voice that those who heard never forgot, as 
 she fled from the room, up the long staircase, and into the 
 nursery. 
 
 But the crib was empty ; the babe was gone. 
 
 The wild, wild shriek of amotl er's woe resounded through 
 the house, and Lady Maude fell in a deadly swoon on the 
 floor. 
 
 And whf>n T.nrH Villiprc hie own nnhlf» fare, whitft and 
 
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 90 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 set with unutterable anguish— burst into the room, he found 
 her lying cold and lifeless on the floor. 
 
 Meantime, some of the most self-possessed of the guests 
 had assembled round Martha, in order to extract from her 
 If possible, what had happened. ' 
 
 ^ But half insane with terror already, the continuous scream- 
 ing of the frightened ladies completely drove every remain- 
 ing gleam of sense out of her head, and her words were <^o 
 wild and incoherent, that but little could be made out of 
 them. It appeared from what she said, that she had been 
 sitting half asleep in her chair, with her little charge whollv 
 asleep in the cradle beside her, when suddenly alall, dark 
 shadow seemed to obscure the light in the roorn ; and look- 
 ing up with a start of terror, she beheld the most awful 
 monster— whether man, or woman, or demon, she could not 
 tell-in the act of snatching little Erminie from the cradle, 
 and flying from the room. Frozen with horror, she had re- 
 mained in her seat unable to move, until at last, fully con- 
 scious of what had taken place, she had fled screaming 
 down-stairs. And that was all she could tell. In vain they 
 questioned and cross-questioned ; they could obtain nothing 
 further from the terrified Martha, and only succeeded iS 
 driving the few remaining wits she had, out of her head. 
 
 Lord Viliers, leaving his still-senseless wife in the care 
 ot her maid, with a face that seemed turned to marble, gave 
 orders to have the house, the grounds, the whole of London. 
 It necessary, ransacked in search of the abductor. 
 
 But there was one who sat bowed, collapsed, shuddering 
 in his seat who recognized that voice, and knew what those 
 awful words meant ; and that one was Earl De Courcy 
 
 "She has murdered herl she has murdered her 1" was 
 Uie cry that seemed rending his very heart with horror and 
 
 r 
 
WOMAN'S HATE. 
 
 9* 
 
 CHAPTER XH. 
 
 woman's hate. 
 
 *• Oh I woman wronged can cherish hate 
 
 More deep and dark than manhood may; 
 And when the mockery of fate 
 
 Hath left revenge her chosen way, 
 Then all the wrongs which lune hath nursed 
 Upon her spoiler's head shall burst, 
 And all her grief, and woe, and pain, 
 Bum fiercely on his heart and brain." 
 
 — Whittier. 
 
 Maddened, despairing, blaspheming, cursing earth and 
 heaven, God and man, hating life, and sunshine, and the 
 world, the wretched gipsy queen had fled from those who 
 gathered around her on that morning full of woe, and fled 
 far away, she neither knew nor cared whither. 
 
 She sped along through lanes, streets, and crowded 
 thoroughfares, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, conscious of 
 nothing but her own maddening wrongs, glaring before her 
 like a maniac, and dashing fiercely to the ground wi^i' her 
 clenched fist all those who, moved by pity, wou! lave 
 stopped her. On, like a bolt from a bow, until the city 
 seemed to fade away, and she saw green fields, and pretty 
 cottiiges, and waving trees, and knew that she had left Lon- 
 don behind her. 
 
 Nigh^ came on before she thought of stopping for a single 
 instant to rest. She had walked far that day ; her feet 
 were bleeding and blistered ; for nearly three days she had 
 touched nothing but cold water, yet her iron frame was un- 
 subdued — she felt no weariness, no faintness, no hunger. 
 The indomitable spirit within, sustained her. She thought 
 of nothing, cared for nothing, but revenge ; and for that 
 her very soul was crying out with a looging — a hunger that 
 nothing could appease. She dared not stop for one mo- 
 ment to think ; she felt she would go mad if she did ; so 
 
 .,,,, .UtJtt^vl On aiiu. un, .13 U UIIVCII Uli Uj r^CJIIlC XlCrCC, lll- 
 
 ward power, against which it was useless to contend. 
 

 '31 VO 
 
 92 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 How the night passed, how the morning came, how sht 
 found herself in the peaceful depths of the forest, she never 
 could tell. How, ere that sun set, she found herself with 
 her tribe, lying prostrate on the cold ground, conccious, 
 like one in the most frightful nightmare, of what was pass^ 
 
 ing around her, yet unable to comprehend what it meant 
 
 all was vague and unreal still. Past, and present, and 
 future, all were mingled together in one dark, dreadful chaos, 
 of which nothing was real but the dull, muffled pain at her 
 heart, and the word revenge, that kept ever dancing iu 
 letters of blood-red flame before her hot, Si.orching eyes 
 
 She was conscious, in a lost, dreamy sort of way, that suns 
 rose and set, and the insufferable light departed, and the 
 dark, cool night came again and again ; of seeing anxious 
 eyes bent on her, and hearing hushed voices and subdued 
 footfalls, and dusky, troubled faces stooping over her ; but 
 like all the rest, it was a mockirg unreality. The' first 
 shock of the blow had crushed and stunned her, numbing 
 the sense of pain, and, and leaving nothing but the heavy 
 throbbing aching at her strong, fierce heart. The woman 
 of mighty frame, and fierce, stormy passions, lay ihere 
 motionless — stricken to the nust. * 
 
 And then this departed, and another mood came. 
 One by one the broken links of memory returned and 
 then all other feelings were submerged and lost in a strong 
 deadly, burning desire of revenge— a revenge as fierce and 
 undying as that of a tigress robbed of her cubs— a revenue 
 as strong and unconquerable as the heart that bore k 
 With It came the recollection of his child ; and drawing 
 from her bosom the packet he had given her, she read (for 
 gipsy as she was she could read) the woman's address. 
 1 here were two motives to preserve \\[ nd, like a lioness 
 rousing herself from a lethargy, the , usy queen arose, 
 and resolutely set her face to the task. C >e determination 
 she made, never to lose sight of him whom she hated, until 
 her revenge was satiated. For she could wait— there would 
 be no sudden stabbing or killing ; she did not believe in 
 such vengeance as that— vengeance that tortures its victim 
 but for a moment. Revenge might be slow, but it would 
 be sure— she would hunt him, pursue him, torture him, until 
 life was worse than death, until he would look upon death 
 
WOMAN'S HATE. 
 
 93 
 
 as a mercy ; then he would have felt a tithe of the misery 
 he had made her endure. 
 
 Another determination was, to leave her son's child with 
 the tribe until such time as she should again claim it. She 
 knew it would be well cared for with them, for they all loved 
 their queen. And taking with her a iad whom she could 
 trust, she left them one morning, and started for the child. 
 
 Leaving the gypsy youth some miles from the place, she 
 approached the cottage, which was opened by the widow 
 herself, who looked considerably startled by her dark, stern 
 visitor. In the briefest possible terms, Ketura made known 
 her errand, and imperiously demanded the child. 
 
 The woman, a mild, gentle-looking person, seemed 
 grieved and troubled, and began something about her 
 affection for the little one, and her hope that it would not 
 be trken away. 
 
 " I want the child 1 — bring it here I " broke in the gipsy, 
 with a fiercely-impatient gesture. 
 
 The woman, terrified into silence by her dark, imperious 
 visitor went to the door and cailfid : 
 
 " Ray, Ray I " 
 
 " Here, Susan," answered a spirited young voice ; and, 
 with a gleeful laugh, a bright little fellow of three years 
 bounded into the room, dragging after him, by the collar, a 
 huge, savage-looking bu! dog, who snapped fiercely at his 
 captor. 
 
 The woman Susan uttered a scream, and fled from the 
 dog to the other side of the room. 
 
 •' I carght him, Susan, and pulled him in ! He can't bite 
 me 1 " said the little fellow, triumphantly, his black eyes 
 flashing with the consciousness of victory. Then, catching 
 sight of the stranger, he stopped, and stared at her in silent 
 wonder. 
 
 "He does beat all I ever seen — he bean't afeerd o' 
 nothin','' said the woman, half-apologetically. " It be no 
 fault o' mine, mistress ; he will ha'e his own way, spite o' 
 all I can say." 
 
 The gypsy fixed her piercing eyes keenly upon him, and 
 started to behold the living counterpart of her own son 
 when at the same age. There wos ihe same clear olive 
 complexion, with a warm, healthy flush on the cheeks and 
 
'nm: i^ 'i jyu - :=,i.vy 
 
 94 
 
 .J 
 
 i; 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 1 ps ; the same bold, bright-black eyes, fringed by long 
 suken lashes ; the same high, noble brow; the same daring^ 
 undaun^d, earl^ess sp.nt, flashing already in his young 
 
 IT ^.l' u'"^ ^""^ '°^^^"^^ ^°^ ^" '"^tant ; but^when 
 she saw the thick, curhng black hair clustering round his 
 head ; noted the small, aristocratically fastidiouf mouth, the 
 ong, dehcate hand, she knew he must have inherited them 
 from h.s mother-and she grew dark and stern again. H^ 
 smUe. too, that ht up his beautiful face, and softened ts 
 tm ^^'^■?^T■' ""^^ "°' ^''' ^^^'^^'•'«' but still he was 
 
 rafkto"rt.ta;;: ''-^ ^ ''-' -y °^^-- ^-^-^ 
 
 " Little boy, come here," she said, holding out her hand 
 Any other child would have been frightened by her odd 
 dress, her harsh voice, and darkly-gleaming face ; but he 
 was not. It might be that, child as he was^he had an in- 
 
 huT i '.?n f^'f T"^'^ ""^ P°^'^^'- ^' it '"i^ht have been 
 his kindred blood that drew him to her~for he fearlesslv 
 went over, put his hand in hers, and looked up in her acf 
 \\hat IS your name > " she said, in a softer voice as she 
 parted his thick, silky curls, and looked down into the dark 
 splendor of his eyes. 
 
 " Raymond Germaine," was his answer 
 
 The gypsy looked at Susan. ' 
 
 -His father's name was Germaine," the woman hastened 
 to explain "and I called him Raymond because I saw R G 
 
 hav^bettat.'^"''"^''^^^ ' ^"' ' ^^°"^^' ^^^^^ ^^ -'^S 
 
 " Very good. Will you come with me, Raymond > " 
 mother "'^'" ^""''^'^^ ^^^ b^^' ^°°^i"g ^t his foster- 
 
 "She will let you," said the gipsy, calmly. "Get him 
 ready instantly. I have no time to lose " 
 
 The woman, though looking deeply grieved and sorry, 
 did not hesitate to obey, for there was something in the ^e 
 of Ketura that might have made a bolder woman yield. So 
 she dressed little Raymond in silence, made up fhe rest of 
 his clothing in a bundle, kissed him, and said good-by amid 
 many tears and sobs, and saw him depart with Ketura. 
 
 Let me carry you--we have a long way to go," said the 
 
 ori 
 
 PCI 
 • V > 
 
 of 
 
 at 
 
 looping to lift liim in her strong arms. 
 
WOMAN'S HATE. 
 
 95 
 
 I'll wilk," said Master Ray, 
 
 "I like it. We'll 
 
 " I don't want to be carried, 
 kicking manfully. 
 
 The gipsy smiled a hard, grirn «=Triiie. 
 
 " His father's spirit," she muttered, 
 see how long he will hold out." 
 
 For nearly an hour the little hero trudged sturdily along, 
 but at the end of that time his steps began to grow slow 
 and weary. 
 
 " Ain't we most there ? " he said, looking ruefully down 
 the long muddy road. 
 
 " No ; we're a long way oflF. You had better let me carry 
 you." 
 
 With a somewhat sleepy look of mortification, Master Ray, 
 permitted his grandmother to lift him up ; and scarcely had 
 she taken him in her arms, before his curly head dropped 
 heavily on her shoulder, and he was fast asleep. 
 
 With the approach of night, feeling somewhat fatigued 
 and footsore herself, she overtook our friend Mr. Harkins, 
 who, as he related to Mr. Toosypegs, " took 'er hin," and 
 brought her to his own house, where " Missis 'Arkins " 
 regaled young Mr. Germaine with a supper of bread and 
 milk, to which that small youth did ample justice. 
 
 Another hour brought her to the place where the gipsy boy 
 was waiting, and to his care she consigned her still-sleeping 
 grandson, with many injunctions that he was to be taken 
 the best care of. These commands were, however, unneces- 
 sary ; for, looking upon the sleeping child as the future king 
 of his tribe, the lad bore him along as reverentially as though 
 he were a prince of the blood-royal. 
 
 Then the gipsy queen, Ketura, giving up all other thoughts 
 but that of vengeance, turned her steps in the direction of 
 London, where, by fortune-telling, and the other arts of her 
 people, she could live and never lose sight of her deadly 
 foe. 
 
 Everything concerning the De Courcys she learned. She 
 heard of the marriage of Lord Villiers to Lady Maude Percy ; 
 and on the night of the wedding she had entered, unobserved 
 by all, in the bustle, and, screened from view behind a side- 
 door, she had uttered the words that had thrown the whole 
 assembly into such diKmay. Then, knowing what must be 
 the consequence, she had fled instantly, and was far from 
 
•'^ivn 
 
 r 
 
 96 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 danger ere the terrified guests had recovered sufficient pres- 
 ence of mind to begin the search """ 'tnc pres- 
 et "is' wHU-n''' '^' ^'""''^' '^^'■''^■^^^^'' '-^"d f""owed the 
 ea.l, ,s well-known to the reader, an. the success of t- 
 
 course was sufTiaent even to satisfy her, implacable s si e 
 
 ill h Kllf n li ""'"^ amounting to a mono,„nnia 
 
 It 1 luu , and still she pursued hmi, like some awful nijiht- 
 niare wherever he went, keeping him still in view. ^ 
 
 V\ th the birth of httle Krminie, she saw a still more ex 
 quisite torture m store for him. Her verv so K i 1 
 ^vith the thought of the life-long miserv' he nLTt , "'^ 
 
 l;ini through the means of this ?hilcU^t Jl ?^ ^S^e 
 ciohzed. trom the first moment she had heard of its birth 
 her determination was to steal it-to make 'wav with 
 niurder it-anything^she did not care what, oi^some h ~ 
 o make h,m feel what she had felt. She had Cen o ? 
 nne, dehnous, when she first heard of her son's deaU, but 
 th.. ^nef lasted but for a short time; and then she re oicc 
 --yes, actually rejoiced-that he was dead and free rom 
 
 The baby was so seldom taken out. and then alwavs in .' 
 carnage with its mother and the nurs;. that it was Zss "ble 
 to think of obtaining it. To enter the house, exce t on the 
 occasion of a ball, or party, w^hen servants and a lliouW be 
 busily occupied, was not to be thou-ht of either p . 
 the night of the abduction, hearing oltU party o be gt-e^n 
 a the mansion and remembering that it was the anni ve? arv 
 of her son's death, she had been wrought up to a perf^.^ 
 
 lZ7ostTttrml ^"'' '''''-'' " ^''^' the^childre^v^i ;; 
 Toward midnight, she had cautiously entered, thinking nJI 
 were most hkely to be in the drawing-rooms at that hou 
 and having previously heard from the sfrvants. by apparen Iv 
 careless questions, where the nursery was situated h^nt^^ 
 
 steps in that direction. P.usin? a^t^- ->-••• ^ '''^' 
 
 ^'. *-i.. . „jsing av t«c uuur, wnicn was ajar. 
 
WOMAN'S HATE. 97 
 
 she had glanced through, and beheld child and nurse both 
 asleep. 
 
 To steal cautiously in, snatch up the child, muffle it so 
 tightly ,n her cloak that if it cried it could not be heard 
 and fly down tne staircase, was but the work of an instant' 
 1 ausuig, for an instant, before the door of the grand salon' 
 in her fleet descent, she had boldly uttered her denunciation' 
 and then, with the speed uf the wind, had flown throur^h the 
 
 sleet, as if pursued by the arch-demon himself. 
 
 T ^^J'''"t,''-S P'''"'"''^' ''^ ^''^^' ^'■°'" exhaustion, she was on 
 London Bridge Darkly came back the memory of the nicht 
 just two years before, when, with deadly despair in her heart' 
 she had stood in that self-same spot, on the point of commit- 
 ting self-murder. With a fierce impulse, she opened her 
 cloak and lifted the half-smothered infant high above her 
 head to dash it into the dark waters below. For one mo- 
 ment she held It poised in the air, and then she drew it back 
 • No, she said with a fiendish smile ; " it will be a greater 
 revenge to let ,t hve-to let it grow up a tainted, corrupted 
 miserable outcast ; and then, when spurned alike by God 
 and man, present It to them as their child. Ha I ha I hat 
 that W/ be revenge indeed I Live, pretty one— live I You 
 are tar too precious to die yet." 
 
 Awakened from her sound 'sleep by the unusual and un- 
 pleasant sensation of the bitter March storm beating in her 
 face, little Erm.nie began to cry. Wrapping it onfe more 
 m her thick mantle the gipsy, knowing there was noTime to 
 lose, fled away in the direction of a low house in St. Giles 
 where, with others of her tribe, she had often been, and the 
 
 he?C T-K^ ""^^^ ^"' ' ^'P'y '""'^^If' '-^"d a member of 
 mT 'um!' ^f^' '^^^ ^'■°™ ^" P^'-s^i^ she could stay 
 wi h the chi d until the first heat of the ser 'h was past, anj 
 then— then to begin her tortures once mort 
 
 l;'^^^^/''^'^'^lgn^yed without ceasing for " mamma," at 
 first, and seemed almost to know the difference between the 
 ZZ u^ ^'5 w'''^" '^' ^^^ now located and the princely 
 to disHke'th'e 1 '1 ''/'' "'' ^" ^"y ^''''' '^^--ve'i hard! 
 
 ace fom whrr ' '"^ ™uch as Ketura hated the 
 
 race trom which she sprung, she r^niKr ryw;^^ .u. ..-.,, 
 
 gentle, helpless babe. So, from two moiive''^"„er£eel'i^ 
 
•f^u 
 
 wim 
 
 .'^ivn 
 
 98 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 of commiseration for the child, and the other a fierce, demon- 
 iacal desire that she should live to be the instrument of her 
 vengeance— she procured a nurse for little Erminie a 
 woman a shade better than the rest of her class, who had 
 lately lost a child of her own ; and owing to her care, little 
 trmmie hved. Lived— but for what fate ? 
 
 CHAPTER Xni. 
 
 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 " Ay, think upon the cause — 
 Forget it not. When you lie down to rest, 
 Let It be black among your dreams ; and when 
 The morn returns, so let it stand between 
 The sun and you, as an ill-omened cloud 
 Upon a summer-day of festival."— Byron. 
 
 A MONTH passed. Night and day the search had been 
 earned on ; enormous rewards were offered ; detectives 
 were sent m every direction ; but all in vain. No trace of 
 the lost child was to be found. 
 
 Lady Maude had awoke from that deadly swoon, only to 
 fall into another, and another, until her friends grew seriously 
 alarmed for her life. From this, she sunk into a sort of low 
 stupor; and for weeks, she lay still and motionless, uncon- 
 scious of everything passing around her. White, frail, and 
 shadowy, she lay, a breathing corpse, dead to the world and 
 all It contained. She scarcely realized her loss, she felt like 
 one who has received a heavy blow, stunning her for a time 
 
 h^rl'« Tk^*'''""'^^^''^ comprehend the full extent of 
 her loss She received what they gave her in a passive sort 
 of way heard without understanding what they said, and 
 wa ched them moving about from under her heavy e;eiidt 
 without recognizing them. She did not even know her 
 husband, who, the very shadow of his former self, ^ave ud 
 everything to remain by her bedside, night and day. Thev 
 began to be alarmed for her reason, at last; but her physi- 
 cian said these was no danerer— she would aron«,. f™ ;u:„ 
 
 „ -- _ _ — •f^tzi lulls 
 
 i 
 
ze, demon- 
 ent of her 
 Irminie, a 
 , who had 
 care, little 
 
 had been 
 ietectives 
 D trace of 
 
 1, only to 
 seriously 
 )rt of low 
 is, uncon- 
 frail, and 
 /orld and 
 i felt like 
 >r a time, 
 jxtent of 
 isive sort 
 aid, and 
 y eyelids 
 now her 
 gave up 
 '. They 
 ir physi- 
 
 I 
 
 RETRIBL riON. gg 
 
 hattti;'' '^"•-Sy.a.Iast: .hey must only 1« nature 
 
 In,!:!!!i''-"".!''T'"^^' ^'"'>' '" ^^'-^y- ^^ he sat bowed and col- 
 lapsed m h.s cha>r. a servant entered to announce a stranger 
 be mv, who earnestly desired to see his lordship ^'' 
 
 Is It a woman ? " asked the earl, turning ghastly. 
 
 ;o„.thing Of the utmost in,po„a;c'"e%o";evea7r;ou''^.r. 
 " Show him up," said the earl eagerly ; while his heirf 
 
 riie next moment the door was thrown open and a t^ll 
 
 Two fierce, black eyes, like living coals elared af hJm 
 enri Thl^ f f, ' ' '"l '™" ''^'"^- <^'"":hed the heart of the 
 
 :iouittL;;i'::rrr.'^\,:^^.„^!jr 
 
 -™"h-aty„1nt!' '" •>'-- - - -rrunTe^ 
 "Leave the room," said the stranger, in a deeo stern 
 
 The man vanished-the door closed. And Earl De Tonr^^,, 
 
 soufme°;tl^htT.tld.::^^^^^^ 
 
 Silently the stranjrer lifted hu h.l „j „."° ^ ™"^.- 
 A mass of thick, streaming, black hairr-orChrch," "nVS 
 
'■^i¥n 
 
 lOO 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 March night, the pitiless rain had beat, fell over her shoul- 
 ders. The long cloak was dropped ofT, and, stern, dark and 
 menacing, he saw the lofty, commanding form, the fierce, 
 black eyes, and dark, lowering brow of the wronged gipsy 
 queen, Ketura, his relentless, implacable foe. 
 
 The last hue of life faded from the white face of the carl 
 at the terrible sight ; a horror unspeakable thrilled through 
 his very soul. Twice he essayed to speak ; his lips moved, 
 but no sound came forth. 
 
 Silent, still, she stood before him, as rigid as i Hgure in 
 bronze, her arms folded over her breast, her lips tightly com- 
 pressed, every feature in perfect repose. You might have 
 thought her some dark statue, but that life— burning life- 
 was concentrated in those wild, dark eyes, that never for a 
 single instant removed their uncompromising glare from his 
 face. 
 
 So they stood for nearly five minutes, and then words 
 came, at last, to the trembling lips of the earl. 
 
 " Dark, dreadful woman 1 what new crime have you come 
 to perpetrate this night > " 
 
 " No crime, lord earl. I come to answer the questions 
 you asked as I entered." 
 
 " Of the child ? You have stolen it ? " he wildly de- 
 manded. 
 
 Her malignant eyes were on him still ; her arms were still 
 folded over her breast ; no feature had moved ; but now a 
 strange, inexplicable smile flickered round her thin lips, as 
 she quickly answered ; 
 
 " I have I " 
 
 "And, woman! — demon in woman's form I what wrong 
 had that helpless babe done you ? " he cried out, in pas- 
 sionate grief. 
 
 No change came over the set, dark face, as from the lips, 
 still wreathed with that dreadful, ominous smile, slowly 
 dropped the words : 
 
 " * The sins of the father shall be visited upon the chil- 
 dren's children, even to the third and fourth generation. 
 An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and a life for a life, 
 saith the Lord of Hosts ! ' " 
 
 " Devil incarnate I blaspheme not I Oh, Heaven of 
 heavens ! how had you the heart io murder that child ? " 
 
/n 
 
 er shoul- 
 dark and 
 he fierce, 
 eel gipsy 
 
 the carl 
 
 through 
 
 s moved, 
 
 tigure in 
 itly com- 
 jjht have 
 ng life — 
 'er for a 
 from his 
 
 n words 
 
 ou come 
 
 [uestions 
 
 Idly de- 
 
 vere still 
 It now a 
 1 lips, as 
 
 t wrong 
 in pas- 
 
 the lips, 
 , slowly 
 
 the chil- 
 neration. 
 or a life, 
 
 iven 
 
 of 
 
 RETRIBUTION. 
 
 10? 
 
 " You had the heart, lorJ earl, to murder mine." 
 
 " I believed him guilty. You know I did I And sht was 
 
 an mnocent babe, as pure from all guile as an angel from 
 
 heaven. 
 
 "So was he, my lord. He was as free from that crimo 
 as that babe ; and yet for it you took his life." 
 
 It was awful to hear her speak in that low. even vc'ce so 
 unnaturally deep and calm. No pitch of passion could be 
 half so terrific as that unearthly quiet. 
 
 '! Devil I— fiend I you shall die for this I " he cried, madly 
 sprmgmg up. " What ho I without th-re I Secure this hae 
 of perdition before — " * 
 
 A low, strangled gurgle finished the sentence ; for, with 
 the bound of a pythoness, he had sprung forward and 
 grasped him by the throat. She had the strength of a giant 
 He was a weak, broken-down old man, as powerless in her 
 strong, horny fingers as an infant. 
 
 He grew black in the face, his eyeballs projected, and he 
 struggled, blmdly and helplessly, to extricate himself. She 
 laughed a low, jeering laugh at his ineffectual efforts, and 
 said, msultingly, as she released him: 
 
 " Softly, softly, lord earl I such violent straining of your 
 ungs is not good for your constitution. You are quite help, 
 less in my hands, you perceive ; and if you attempt to raise 
 your voice in that unpleasant manner again, I shall be forced 
 to give you a still more loving clutch next time. Your best 
 policy is, to keep as quiet as possible just now." 
 
 He ground his teeth in impotent fury, as he gasped for 
 breath. 
 
 •• Besides, you take things for granted too easily, my lord. 
 vVhat proof have you that 1 am a murderess ? You are and 
 in the sight of God ; but that is not saying I am I " 
 
 "Oh, woman ! guilty, blood-stained firndess 1 your own 
 words confirm it I " he passionately cried out. 
 
 "Gently, my lord, gently I Have you heard me say I 
 murdered her? " ^ 
 
 " You did not deny it." 
 
 " That is negative proof, very ur substantial, as you evi- 
 dently know, although you found it sufficient to condemn my 
 son 1 ' ■' 
 
 « You are too much of a demon \c spare her innocent life 
 
imwcr 
 
 :31!««1_ 
 
 I02 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 one moment 
 
 she is dead 1 
 >> 
 
 when in your power. Oh, I know — I know 
 
 Dear little angel 1 Sweet, helpless little Er- 
 
 minie 
 
 He almost lost his dread of her in his passion of grief. 
 His chest heaved as he buried his face in his hands, and 
 something like a convulsive sob shook his frame. " Talk 
 not of grief till thou hast seen the tears of stern-browed 
 men." 
 
 But the woman felt no remorse. No ; an exultant sense 
 of triumph — a fiendish joy filled her heart, at the proof of 
 what she had made him suffer. She had still a fiercer pang 
 in store for him ; and waiting till he had lifted his pale face 
 again, she began, in a low, mocking voice : 
 
 '• And thinkest thou, oh, Lord De Courcy, there is no 
 darker doom than death ? Do you think vengeance such as 
 mine is to be sated by such paltry revenge as that ? Pshaw, 
 man 1 You are only a novice in the art of torture, I see ; 
 though you commenced a dangerous game when you prac- 
 ticed first on me. Why, if I had slain her, that would have 
 been momentary revenge, and fifty thousand lives such as 
 hers could not sate mine. Other children might be born, 
 years would pass, and she, in course of time, would be 
 almost forgotten. No, my lord ; such vengeance as that 
 would never satisfy the gipsy Ketura 1 " 
 
 " Saints in heaven! Am I sane or mad? Oh, woman, 
 woman 1 speak, and tell me truly. Does the child yet 
 live ? " 
 
 " It does 1 " 
 
 " Thank God I Oh, bless God for that ! " he cried, pas- 
 sionately, while tears of joy fell fast from his eyes. 
 
 The same evil, sinister smile curled the lips of the 
 gipsy. 
 
 " What a fool the man is 1 " she said, bitterly, •' thanking 
 God that her life is spared, when she will yet live to curse 
 the hour she was born. Oh, man 1 can you comprehend the 
 depths of a gipsy's hate — you, with your cold, sluggish Nor- 
 thern blood ? Yes ; she shall live ; but it will be for a doom 
 so dark that even the fiends themselves will shudder to hear 
 it ; she will live to invoke death as a blessing, and yet will 
 not dare to die 1 And then I will return your Erminie to 
 her doting grandsire, a thing so foul and polluted that the 
 
RETRIBUTION. 
 
 103 
 
 very earth will refuse her a grave. Then, Lord De Courcy, 
 my revenge will be complete ! " 
 
 His hands dropped from his face as if he had been strick- 
 en with sudden death ; t!ie sight seemed leaving his eyes ; 
 the very life seemed palsied in his heart. He was conscious, 
 for one dizzy moment; of nothing but of the blasting sight 
 of that terrific woman, who, with her flaming eyes piercing 
 him like two drawn stilettoes, towered there above him, like 
 a vision from the infernal regions. 
 
 She was calm still ; that terrible, exultant smile had not 
 left her lips ; but he would sooner have seen her foaming 
 with passion than as she looked at that moment, standing 
 there. 
 
 " This is our second interview, lord earl," she said, while 
 he sat speechless. " The first time I pleaded on my knees 
 to you, and you spurned me from you as if I had been a 
 dog. This time it should be your turn to plead ; for you 
 have almost as much at stake as I had then. If you do not 
 choose to do so, that is your affair, not mine. The third 
 time — when it comes — you will have realized what a gipsy's 
 revenge is like." 
 
 " Oh, women 1 there be one spark of human nature in 
 your savage breast, for God's sake, spare that child 1 " cried 
 the earl, wrought up to a perfect agony by her words. 
 
 She stepped back a p. ■ and looked at him for an instant 
 in silence. At last : 
 
 ■ I pleaded to you on my knees," she said, with an icy 
 smile. 
 
 Her words gave him hooe. The proud man fell on his 
 knees before her, and held up his clasped hands in suppli- 
 cation. The high born Earl De Courcy knelt in wildest 
 agony at the feet of the outcast gipsy 1 
 
 Her hour of triumph had come. Folding her arms over 
 her breast, she looked down upon him as he knelt there, 
 with a look no words can ever describe. 
 
 " Spare her — spare her I For God's sake, spare that 
 child 1 " 
 
 There was no reply. Erect, rigid and moveless as a figure 
 in stone, she stood, looking down upon him with her blazing 
 
 eye: 
 
 •' Slay her, if you will ; let her go to heaven guileless and 
 
•=U¥fl 
 
 If: 
 
 I04 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 unstained— anything rather than the doom you have destined 
 
 for her!" ., ., . 
 
 Still no reply. With that triumphant smile— a smile such 
 as Satan himself might have worn— she looked steadily and 
 quietly down at the man at her feet. 
 
 " Besides, you dare not keep her 1 " he said, gathermg 
 courage from her silence ; fancying, perhaps, it was a sign 
 of relenting. " The officers of the law would find you out ; 
 and a worse fate than your son's would be yours." 
 
 It was an unfortunate allusion. Her brow grew black as 
 a thunder-cloud ; but she only laughed scornfully. 
 
 " Find me ? " she repeated. " Yes, if they can find last 
 year's snow, last year's partridges, or last summer's rain. 
 Let them find me. Why, if it came to that, I could dash its 
 brains out in one instant, before its very mother's eyes." 
 
 " Oh, worst of fiends 1 does there linger a human heart in 
 
 your body ? " , i • • *. 
 
 " No ; it turned to stone the night I groveled in vain at 
 
 your feet." 
 
 " Take any other revenge you like ; haunt me, pursue me, 
 as you will, but restore that child 1 She never injured you ; 
 if there is guilt anywhere, it rests on my head. Let me, 
 therefore, suffer, and give back the child." 
 
 She smiled in silence. 
 
 "You will relent; you are a woman, and not a devil. 
 Consent to what I ask, and if wealth be any object, you shall 
 have the half— the whole of my fortune. Tell me you con- 
 sent, and all I have in the world, together with my everlast- 
 ing gratitude, will be yours." _ 
 
 " You should have thought of this the night you refused 
 to grant my prayer, my lord. Will your wealth and ' every- 
 lasting gratitude ' restore my son from the dead ? " 
 
 '•God knows, were it in my power, I would willingly give 
 my life to restore him and cancel the past. All that remains 
 for me to do I will do, if you restore the child." 
 
 " Lord earl, when I knelt to you, you commanded me to 
 get up. It is my turn now. You have been sufficiently 
 humiliated, even to satisfy me. Rise 1 " 
 
 He rose, and stood before her, so faint with many emo- 
 tions that he was obliged to grasp the chair for support. 
 
 " You will restore her ? " he breathlessly asked. 
 
THE NEW HOME. 
 
 105 
 
 " Never so help me God ; till my vow is fulfilled 1 Palsied 
 be my heart, it it ever relents 1 Withered be my hand if it 
 ever confers a boon on you or one of your house I Blighted 
 be ir ongue, if it ever heap but curses on you! Doomed 
 be I. ' ^oul, if it ever forgives you for what you have done^l 
 Onoe again, lord earl, we are to meet, and then, beware 
 
 The last words were uttered with a maniac shriek, as she 
 turned and fled from the room. There was a heavy fall; 
 and the servants, rushing in in terror, found Earl De Courcy 
 lying on the floor, with a dark stream of blood flovving from 
 his mouth. They raised him up, but they were too late. He 
 had ruptured an artery of the heart; and with the clotted 
 gore still foaming around his lips, he lay there before them, 
 stark and dead 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 •• Yellow sheaves from rich Ceres the cottage had crowned, 
 Green rushes were strewed on the floor ; 
 The casements sweet woodbine crept wantonly round, 
 
 And decked the sod-seats at the door." _c„^„,^c.ham. 
 
 With that last terrible denunciation on her lips, Ketura 
 had fled from the room, from the house, out into the night. 
 
 Half delirious with mingled triumph, fiendish joy, and 
 the pitch of passion into which she had wrought herself, she 
 walked with rapid, excited strides along, heedless of whither 
 she went, until she suddenly ran with stunning force against 
 another pedestrian who was coming toward her. 
 
 The force of the concussion sent the unfortunate individual 
 sprawling, with rather unpleasant suddenness, on his back ; 
 while the gipsy herself, somewhat cooled by the shock, 
 paused for a moment and grasped a lamp-post to steady 
 
 herself. . , • r 
 
 " iiuoU gracious i gaspcu j. uccp:j aftg-^' ' •' •- 
 
 the pavement, " if this ain't too bad 1 To be run into this 
 

 io6 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 way and pitched heels over head on the broad of one's 
 back without a minute's warning 1 Why, it's a shame 1 " 
 reiterated tlie voice, in a still more aggrieved cadence, as its 
 owner, a pale young man with a carpet-bag, slowly began to 
 pick himself up. 
 
 The gipsy, having recovered from the sudden collision, 
 was about to hurry on without paying the slightest attention 
 to the injured owner of the carpet-bag, when that individual, 
 catching a full view of her face, burst out in amazement : 
 
 " Why, if it ain't Mrs. Ketura I Well, if this isn't real 
 surprising! How ^/^ you do ? lam glad to see you, I'm 
 sure ; and I dare say it was all an accident. I hope you 
 have been quite well since I saw you last, ma'am," said the 
 pale young man, politely ; " I've been 7.'ery well myself, I'm 
 obliged to you." 
 
 " Who are you ? " said the gipsy, impatiently, scanning 
 his mild, freckled frontispiece with her stiletto-like eyes. 
 
 " Why, you haven't forgotten me, have you ? " said the 
 young man, straightening out his beaver, which had got 
 stove in during the late catastrophe; " why, I'm O. C. Too- 
 sypegs I I dare say ycu didn't expect to see me here, but 
 we haven't left England yet, you know. We're going the 
 day after to-morrow, aunt Prisciller and me ; and I'm glad 
 of it, too, for this here London ain't what it's cracked up to 
 be. I had my pocket picked at least twenty times since I 
 came here. They took my watch, my pocketbook, and my 
 jack-knife, and didn't even leave me so much as a pocket- 
 handkerchief to wipe my nose." And Mr. Toosypegs, who 
 evidently considered this the climax of human depravity, 
 gave his hat a fierce thump, that sent that astonished head- 
 piece away down over his eyes with rather alarming sud- 
 denness. 
 
 " I don't know you— let me pass," said the gipsy, harshly, 
 trying to walk away from him ; but Mr. Toosypegs quick- 
 ened his pace likewise, and kept up with her. 
 
 " Why, you do know me, Mrs. Ketura, and I hope you 
 haven't went and forgotten me so soon, ' said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, in a deeply-injured tone. " Don't you recollect that 
 nasty wet night, a little over two years ago, when you was 
 walking along the north road, and 1 made Mr. Harkins, who 
 is a real nice man, only a little hasty at times, take you in 
 
THE NEW HOME. 
 
 X07 
 
 sud- 
 
 and drive you to town ? You didn't seem in very good 
 spirits that night, and I was real sorry for your trouble— i 
 
 really was, Mrs. Ketura." . , , u u* ««*. 
 
 The gipsy made no reply. Bitterly her thoughts went 
 back to that night-that long, desolate. so"«^f"j "jf t^" 
 when she had bidden her son a last farewell. She had had 
 her revenge; she had wrenched cries of anguish from those 
 who had tortured her ; but oh 1 what revenge could remove 
 the gnawing at her heart ? what vengeance could restore 
 her her son ? With one of those hollow groans that seem 
 rending the heart they burst from, her head dropped on her 
 bosom There was a world of anguish and despair in the 
 sound, and it went right to the simple heart of the really kind 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs. . . , 
 
 " There, now, don't take on so about it," he began, pite- 
 ously • " it's real distressing to listen to such groans as that. 
 Everything happens for the best, you know ; and though, as 
 I remarked at the time to my friend Mr. Harkins, it was 
 real disagreeable of them to take and send your son away, 
 when he didn't want to go. still it can't be helped now, and 
 there's no use whatever in making a fuss about it. As my 
 uncle, who hadn't the pleasure of your acquaintance, has lelt 
 me two thousand pounds, I should be real glad to aid you 
 as far as money will go. and you needn't mind about giving 
 me your note for it either. I ain't particular about getting 
 it back again, I'm very much obliged to you. 
 
 During this well-meant attempt at consolation, not one 
 word of which the gipsy had heard, Mr. Toosypegs had been 
 fumbling uneasily in his pockets, and shifting his carpet-bag 
 in a fidgety manner from one hand to the other Having 
 managed at last to extract a plump pocket-book from some 
 mysterious recess inside of his coat, he held it out to h.s 
 companion ; but she, with her eyes floom'ly fixed on the 
 ground, seemed so totally oblivious of both himself and it, 
 that, with a comical expression of distress, he was forced to 
 replace it again where it came from. ^^ 
 
 '' Now I wouMt mind it so much if I was you, you know, 
 he resumed, in a confidential tone. '' Where's the good of 
 making a time when things can't be helped ? I m gomg^to 
 to sail for America the day alter to-morrow, rn a B-a^ --/. 
 tarry ship, and I would like to see you in good spirits before 
 
!« 
 
 :3ULVa 
 
 zo8 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 "\ 
 
 I go. It would make it a great deal nicer if I thought you 
 weren't taking on." 
 
 The last words caught her ear. She lifted her haggard 
 face and fixed her piercing eyes so suddenly full upon him, 
 that, with an alarmed " Lord bless me," he sprung back and 
 gazed upon her in evident terror. 
 
 " Going to America, are you ? — to-morrow ? " she asked, 
 rapidly. 
 
 " Why — a — no, sir — that is, yes, ma'am," stammered Mr. 
 Toosypegs, his self-possession considerably shaken by those 
 needle-like glances. 
 
 With lightning-like rapidity there flashed through the 
 gipsy's mind a scheme. London was no longer a safe place 
 for her ; she was liable to be arrested, now, at any moment, 
 and with her half-completed revenge this was not to be 
 thought of. She felt her best course would be, to leave 
 England altogether for some years ; and she determined to 
 avail herself of the present opportunity. 
 
 •' If I go with you to America, will you pay my passage ? " 
 she abruptly asked, transfixing Mr. Toosypegs with her 
 lightning eyes. 
 
 " Why, of course, with a great deal of pleasure," respond- 
 ed the young man, with alacrity ; " it will make it real pleas- 
 ant to have you with us during the passage, I'm sure," said 
 Mr. Toosypegs, who felt politeness required of him to say 
 as much, though his conscience gave him a severe twinge 
 for telling such a fib. " Perhaps, as we start the day after 
 to-morrov/, you wouldn't mind coming and stopping with us 
 until then, so's to have things handy. Aunt Prisciller will 
 be delighted to make your acquaintance, I know," concluded 
 Mr. Toosypegs, whose conscience, at this announcement, 
 gave him another rebuking pinch. 
 
 " There will be two children to bring," said the gipsy, 
 hurriedly : " I must go for them." 
 
 " Half price," muttered Mr. Toosypegs, sotto voce ; " what 
 will aunt Prisciller say ? " 
 
 " I will meet you here by daybreak the day after to- 
 morrow." said the gipsy, stopping suddenly. " Will you 
 come ? " 
 
 " Why, certainly," responded Mr. Toosypegs, who was 
 too much in awe of her to refuse her anything she might 
 
THE NEW HOME. 
 
 X09 
 
 you 
 
 e?" 
 her 
 
 ask • *« I'n be in this precise spot by daybreak the day after 
 to-morrow, though I don't approve of early rising as a gen- 
 eral thing ; it ain't nice at all." 
 
 " Very vrell, I will be here —you need come with me no 
 further," said Ketura, dismissing him with a wave of her 
 hand ; and ere he could expostulate at this summary dis- 
 missal, she turned a corner and disappeared. 
 
 That night a trusty messenger was dispatched by Ketura 
 to the gipsy camp for little Raymond, who arrived the fol- 
 lowing night. His free, gipsy life seemed to agree wonder- 
 fully well with that young gentleman, who appeared m the 
 highest possible health and spirits; his rosy cheeks and 
 sparkling black eyes all aglow from the woodland breezes. 
 Five years old now, he was tall and well-grown for his age, 
 could climb the highest trees like a squirrel, set bird-traps 
 and rabbit-snares, and was as lithe, supple, and active as a 
 young deer. The eyes of Ketura lit up with pride as she 
 gazed upon him ; nnd for the first time the idea occurred to 
 her that he might live to avenge his father's wrongs when she 
 was dead. She would bring him up to hate all of the house 
 of De Courcy ; that hate should grow with his growth until 
 it should become the one ruling passion and aim of his life, 
 swamping, by its very intensity, every other feeling. 
 
 Master Raymond, who seemed quite as chary of caresses 
 as his grandmother herself, met her with a good deal of in- 
 difference ; but no sooner did he see little Erminie, than a 
 rash and violent attachment was the result. Accustomed to 
 the dirty, dusky gipsy babies, who rolled all day unheeded 
 in the grass, this little snowy-skinned, golden-haired, blue- 
 eyed infant seemed so wondrously lovely '.hat he had to give 
 her sundry pokes with his finger to convince himself she was 
 real, and not an illusion. Miss Erminie did not seem at 
 all displeased by these attentions, but favored him with a 
 coquettish smile, and with her finger in her rosy mouth, gave 
 him every encouragement he could reasonably expect on so 
 short an acquaintance. Being left alone together, Master 
 Raymond, who did not altogether approve of her wastmg 
 her time, lying blinking at him in her cradle, began to think 
 it was only a common act of politeness she owed him to get 
 up, and seeing no symptoms ui any su^" iw<.ei,... .. •-.. i- 
 young lady's part, he resolved to give her a hint to that 
 

 ••fVN. 
 
 m^mv^i* 
 
 no 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 effect. Catching her, therefore, by one Httle plump leg and 
 arm, he gave her a jerk that swung her completely out, and 
 then grasping her by the waist, he dumped her down on the 
 floor beside him, upon which she immediately clapped an- 
 other finger in her mouth ; and there they sat, silently star- 
 ing at each other, until both were dispatchea to bed. 
 
 Early in the morning Master Raymond and Miss Erminie 
 found themselves awakened from an exceedingly sound 
 slumber, and undergoing the unpleasant operation of dress- 
 ing. The young gentleman kicked and plunged manfully 
 for a while, but finding it all of no use, he gave up the 
 struggle and yielded to fate in a second nap. Erminie, 
 after crying a little, followed his example ; and the gipsy, 
 taking her in her arms, and followed by one of the tribe 
 bearing the sleeping Raymond, hurried to the trysting- 
 place. 
 
 There they found Mr. Toosypegs, looking green and sea- 
 sick already, from anticipation. In a few words the gipsy 
 gave him to understand that she wished to go on board im- 
 mediately — a proposition which rather pleased Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, who was inwardly afraid she might desire to be 
 brought to his house, where she would be confronted by 
 Miss Toosypegs, of whom he stood in wholesome awe. 
 
 Half an hour brought them to the pier where the vessel 
 lay, and consigning little Raymond to the care of one of the 
 female passengers, she sought her berth with Erminie. Until 
 England was out of sight she still dreaded detection ; and, 
 therefore, she sat with feverish impatience, longing to catch 
 the last glimpse of the land wherein she was born. She 
 watched every passing face with suspicion, and in every out- 
 stretched hand she saw some one about to snatch her prize 
 from her ; and involuntarily her teeth set, and she held the 
 sleeping child in a fiercer clasp. 
 
 Once she caught a passing glimpse of Mr. Toosypegs, a 
 victim to " green and yellow melancholy " in its most aggra- 
 vated form, as he walked toward his berth in an exceedingly 
 limp state of mind and shirt-collar. Mr, Toosypegs knew 
 what sea-sickness was from experience ; he had a distinct 
 and sad recollection of what he endured the last time he 
 crossed the Atlantic; and with many an ominous foreboding, 
 he ensconced himself in an arm-chair in the cabin, while 
 
THE NEW HOME. 
 
 Ill 
 
 the vesse rose ai d fell as she danced over the waves. Si- 
 lently he sat, as men sit who await the heaviest blow Fate 
 has in store for them. Suddenly a stentorian voice from 
 the deck rose high above the creaking and straining of ropes 
 and tramping of feet, with the words, " Heave ahead." 
 Mr. Toosyixgs gave a convulsive start, an expression of in- 
 tensest anguish passed over his face, and suddenly clapping 
 his handkercaief to his mouth, he fled into the silent depths 
 of the state-room, where, hidden from human view, what 
 passed was never known. 
 
 "Well, I never 1" ejaculated a tall, thin, sharp female, 
 with a sour fi.ce, and a catankerous expression of counte- 
 nance generally, who sat with her hands folded over a shiny- 
 brown Holland gown, as upright as a church-steeple and 
 about as grim. •' Well, I never 1 going hand being sea-sick 
 hafore he's ten minutes hon board, which his something 
 none of the family hever 'ad before, hand I've been hover 
 to Hireland without hever thinking of such a thing ; lying 
 there on the broad hof his back, leaving me a poor, lone 
 woman, and groanin' hevery time this dratted hold ship gives 
 a plunge.which is something that's not pleasant for a hun- 
 protected female to be, having a lot hof disagreeable sailors, 
 smellingof oakum and tar and sich, has hif he couldn t wait 
 to be sea-sick hafter we'd land. Ugh I " And Miss Pris- 
 cilia Dorothea Toosypegs— for she it was— knit up her face 
 in a bristle of the sourest kinks,and punctuated her rather 
 rambling speech by sundry frowns of the most intensely 
 
 To describe' that voyage is not my intention ; suffice it to 
 say that it was an unusually speedy one. On the following 
 morning, the gipsy had appeared on deck with little Ermmie, 
 whose gentle beauty attracted universal attention, as her 
 nurse's dark, stern, moody face did fear and dread. Many 
 hands were held out for her, and Ketura willingly gave her 
 up, and consented to the request of a pleasant- faced young 
 girl who offered to take charge of her until they should land. 
 Master Raymond had already become prime favorite with all 
 on board, more particularly with the sailors ; and could soon 
 run like a monkey up the shrouds into the rigging. At 
 
 hrst ne conaesccnucu lu pauum^- i^i>'. — j r 
 
 but on discovering she could not climb— in fact, could not 
 
mya 
 
 112 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 even stand on her feet properly — he began to look down on 
 her with a sort of lofty contempt. On the fifth day, Mr. 
 Toosypegs made his appearance on deck, a walking skele- 
 ton. Everybody laughed at his wobegone looks; and so 
 deeply disgusted was Miss Priscilla by his sea-grtrn visage, 
 that it seemed doubtful whether she would ever acknowledge 
 the relationship again. 
 
 As every one but Miss Priscilla laughed at kim, and s-he 
 scolded him unmercifully, the unhappy young man was forced 
 to fly for relief to Ketura, whose silent grimnejs was quite 
 delightful compared with either of the others. Feeling that 
 she owed him something for his kindness, shs listened in 
 silence to all his doleful complaints ; and this so won upon 
 the susceptible heart of that unfortunate youth, that he con- 
 tracted quite an affection for her — just as a lap-dog has been 
 known to make friends with a tiger before now. 
 
 " What do you intend to do when you get to America, 
 Mrs. Ketura ? " he asked one day as they sat together on the 
 deck, 
 
 " I have not thought about it," she answered indifferently. 
 
 " You'll have to do something, you know," insinuated Mr. 
 Toosyjiegs. " People always do something in America. 
 They're real smart people there. J'm an American, Mrs. 
 Ketura," added Mr. Toosypegs, complacently. 
 
 A grim sort of smile, half contempt, half pity, passed over 
 the face of the gipsy. 
 
 " Telling fortunes pays pretty well, I guess, but then it 
 isn't a nice way to make a living ; and besides that little 
 baby would be real inconvenient to lug round with you, not 
 to speak of that dreadful little boy who climbs up that main- 
 topgallant bowsprit — or whatever the nasty steep thing's 
 name is. No; I don't think telling fortunes would be ex- 
 actly the thing." 
 
 " I shall manage some way; don't bother me about it," 
 said gipsy, impatiently. 
 
 " What do you say to coming with us to Dismal Hollow ? 
 There's plenty of room around there for you ; and I should 
 be real glad to have you near, so that I corld drop in to see 
 you now and then." 
 
 
 
 U^ 
 ii\. 
 
 V/OUivt 
 
 line 
 
 this time ; for her stern, fierce character had a strange sort 
 
 S 
 
mm^mmm 
 
 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 113 
 
 it," 
 
 ' 
 
 ^ 
 
 of fascination for him, and he really was beginning to feel a 
 strong attachment to her. 
 
 The real kindliness of his tone, his simple generosity, 
 touched even the granite heart of the hard gipsy queen. 
 Lifting her eyes, that all this time had been moodily gazing 
 into the dashing, loam-crested waves, she said, in a softer 
 voice than he ever expected to hear from her lips : 
 
 " I thank you and accept your offer, and more for M«> 
 sake, however, than my own " — pointing to the children. 
 " I could make my way through the world easily enough, 
 but they are young and tender, and need care. I will go 
 with you." 
 
 She turned away as she ceased, as if there was no more 
 to be said on the subject, and again looked fixedly down into 
 the wide waste of waters. 
 
 " It's real good of you to say so, Mrs. Ketura, and I'm 
 very much obliged to you," said Mr. Toosypegs with a 
 brightening up of his pallid features. '* We will land at 
 New York, and after that, go to Dismal Hollow via Baltimore, 
 which means, Mrs. Ketura," said Mr. Toosypegs, interrupt- 
 ing himself, to throw in a word of explanation, " ' by way of.' 
 It's Latin, or Greek, I guess, though I never learned either. 
 Ugh 1 ain't Latin nice, though 1 " added the owner of the 
 sickly complexion, with a grimace of intensest disgust. " I 
 tried it for six weeks one time, with an apothecary ; and then, 
 as it began to throw me into a decline, I gave it up. Not any 
 more. I'm very much obliged to you." 
 
 Three days after that the vessel touched the wharf at New 
 York. And after two days'-delay, which Mr. Toosypegs re- 
 quired to get his "land legs" on, they set off for Baltimore. 
 
 In due course of time that goodly city was reached, and 
 one week after, the whole party arrived at Judestown — a 
 thriving country town on the sea-coast, called then after the 
 first settler, but known by another name, now. 
 
 Driving through the town, they reached the suburbs, and 
 entered a more thinly settled part of the country. Gleaming 
 here and there through the trees, they could catch occasional 
 glimpses of the bright waters of the Chesapeake, and hear 
 the booming of the waves on the low shore. 
 
 Turning an abrupt angle in the road, they drove down a 
 long, steep, craggy path, toward a gloomy mountain gorge, at 
 
Hi 
 
 31 va 
 
 114 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 sight of which Mr. Toosypegs so far forgot himself as to 
 take off his hat and wave it over his head, with a feeble 
 "Hooray for Dismal Hollow I " which so scandalized that 
 strict Christian, his aunt, that she gave him a look beneath 
 which lie wilted down, and was heard no mcjre. 
 
 " What an ugly '^Id place ! I won't go there 1" exclaimed 
 little Raymond, with a strong expression of contempt. 
 
 And truly it did not look very inviting. i'hc mountain, 
 which, by some convulsion of nature, seemed to have been 
 violently rent in twain, was only passable by a narrow, 
 dangerous briu -path. Down in the very bottom of this 
 deep, gloomy gorge, stood an old, time-worn building of what 
 had once been red brick, with dismal, black, broken window 
 shutters, that at some far-distant time might have been 
 green. A range of dilapidated barns and outhouses spread 
 away behind, and in front, some hundred yards distant, ron 
 a slender rivulet, which every spring became swollen into a 
 foaming torrent. 
 
 Here the sun never penetrated ; no living creature was to 
 be seen, and a more gloomy and dismal spot could hardly 
 have been found in the wide world. Even the gipsy queen 
 looked round with a sort of still amaze that any one could 
 be found to live here, while Miss Priscilla elevated both 
 hands in horror, and in the dismay of the moment was sur- 
 prised into the profanity of exclaiming: "Great Jemimil " 
 
 " It's the ugliest old place ever was, and I won't go there ! " 
 reiterated Master Raymond, kicking viciously at Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, to whom, with an inward presentiment, he felt he owed 
 his coming. 
 
 '* It is rather dull-looking, now," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 apologetically ; •' but wait till we get it fixed up a little, after 
 a spell. The niggers have let things go to waste since I 
 went away." 
 
 " Humph ! Should think they had !" said Miss Priscilla, 
 with a disdainful sniff. " Nothing but treeses, and rockses, 
 and mountainses split hin two; hand what your blessed 
 father, which lies now a hangel in some nasty, swampy grave- 
 yard, could have been thinking habout, with that 'orrid little 
 river hafore the door, to build a 'oi;r.e in sich a sp't, which 
 must hoverfiow hevery time hit i-^nn, hu> more iLun I can 
 tell— drowning us hin hour beas, as it will be sure to do 
 
THE NEW HOME. 
 
 115 
 
 .wme fine morning or bother. VVah ! wah !" And with this 
 final expression of disgust, given in a tone of scorn no words 
 can expresb the ancient virgir. i.ui'cred herself to be hand- 
 ed from the a agon by her dul • nephew and depos'ttd in 
 a mud-puddle before the door to the great benefit of her 
 stockings and temper. 
 
 The noi'^e of wlic'ls, a very unusual noise th' re brought 
 some half-N ^re of Icm, hungry-looking curs fi< m some un- 
 seen region, who instantly began a furious yilping and bark- 
 ing. Miss Priscill.) set up a series of short, sharp little 
 screams, and jumped up on a rock in mort.il terror ; little 
 Erminie, terrified by the noise, began to cry ; Master Ray- 
 mond yelled to the dogs at the top of his lungs, and plunged 
 headforemost in among them; Mr. Toosyixgs went through 
 all the phases of the potential mood — " cxorting, entreating, 
 commanding,*' — and a general uproar ensued that would have 
 shamed Babel. 
 
 The hubbub and din roused the inmates, at last, as it 
 might very easily have done the Seven Sleepers themselves. 
 
 A shuffling tread of feet was heard within, and then a 
 trembling voice demanded: 
 
 " Who dar ?" 
 
 " It's me. Open the door, for goodness' sake 1" exclaimed 
 Mr. Toosypegs, in an agony of supplicatu m. 
 
 «' We's got yarms, and dar ain't nottinj in de house for 
 you to rob, so you'd better go 'way," said . quavering voice, 
 that evidently strove in vain to be courageous. 
 
 " IVill yon open the door ? I tell you it's only me! " shouted 
 the deeply-exasperated Mr. Toosypegs, seizing the handle of 
 the door and giving it a furious shake. 
 
 Cautiously the door was partly opened, a terrified voice 
 was heard to whisper: " You hit dem wid dt poker arter I 
 fire," and then the frowning muzzles of tv. o huge horse- 
 pistols met their dismayed eyes. 
 
 "Don't shoot — it's meI" yelled the terro stricken Mr. 
 Toosypegs; but his words were lost in the b. ng I bang 1 of 
 the pistols as thev went oflf. 
 
 " Oh, Lord, have mercy on me 1 I'm shot I ' shriektd the 
 unhappy Mr. Toosypegs, as he dropped like ; stone in the 
 mud, and lay motionless. 
 
 " Hand me de brunderingbuss — quick, P mp 1 Dar's 
 
-«ir.; 
 
 "WU 
 
 •3i! 
 
 Ii6 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 more o* dem," again whispered the chattering voice ; and 
 once more the warlike individual within blazed away, while 
 Miss Priscilla lay kicking in the strongest hysterics, and Mr. 
 Toosypegs, flat on his face in the mud, lay as rigid and still 
 as a melancholy corpse. 
 
 So completely amazed was the gipsy queen by all this, 
 that she stood motionless, with Erminie in her arms. Now 
 the door was slowly opened, and a negro's face, gray with 
 terror, was protruded. His round, goggle eyes, starling from 
 his head with f-,ar, fell on the prostrate forms of Miss Pris- 
 cilla and her unfortunate nephew. 
 
 " Two ob dem gone, bress de Lord 1" piously ejaculated 
 Cuffce. " It takes me for to do de bisiness. Well, bress 
 Mars'r! if I ain't had a fight for't." Then catching sight 
 of the gipsy, he paused suddenly, and jumped back, and 
 raised the discharged blunderbuss, but no effort could make 
 it go oil a second time. 
 
 " Are you mad, fellow ? " exclaimed the deep, command- 
 ing voice of Ketura. " Would you murder your master ? " 
 
 '• Young mars'r hab gone ; an' ef you don't cl'ar right out 
 dar'U be more blood shed !" exclaimed the negro, still keep- 
 ing his formidable weapon cocked. 
 
 " I tell you this is your master 1" impatiently exclaimed 
 Ketura. " He arrived to-day ; and now you have shot 
 him." 
 
 Slowly the blunderbuss was lowered, as if the conviction 
 that she might be speaking the truth was slowly coming 
 home to the mind of her hearer. Cautiously he left his post 
 of danger and approached his prostrate foe. Gathering cour- 
 age from his apparent lifelessness, he at last ventured to 
 turn him over, and all smeared and clotted with mud, the pal- 
 lid features of Mr. Toosypegs were upturned to the light. 
 His arms were stretched stiffly out by his side, as much like 
 a corpse as possible ; his eyes were tightly closed ; ditto his 
 lips, all covered with soft mud. 
 
 There was no mistaking that face. With a loud howl of 
 distress, the negro threw himself upon the lifeless form of 
 poor Mr. Toosypegs. 
 
 " Ah ! You've got your elbow in the pit of my stomach 1 " 
 exclaimed the corpse, with a sharp yell of pain. " Can't 
 you get out of that, and let me die in peace ? " 
 
^m^^BlMj 
 
 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 117 
 
 For the first time in two years the gipsy, Ketura, laughed. 
 In fact, they would have been more than mortal who could 
 have beheld that unspeakably-ludicrous scene without do- 
 ing so. 
 
 Miss Priscilla stopped her hysterical kicking and plung- 
 ing, and raised herself on her elbow to look. 
 
 The negro, with a whoop of joy that might have startled 
 a Shawnee Indian, seized Mr. Toosyp)egs, who had shut his 
 eyes and composed himself for death again, save an occa- 
 sional splutter as the mud went down his throat, and swing- 
 ing him over his shoulder as if he had been a limp towel, 
 rushed with him in triumph into the house. 
 
 " He warn't dead, then, haftcr hall ? " said Miss Priscilla, 
 sharply, in a voice that seemed made of steel-springs. 
 " Well, I never 1 Going hand fright'ning respectable par- 
 ties hout their wits with 'orrid black niggers, firing hoft of 
 pistols hand cannons; lying therein the mud making believe 
 dead ; hand shooting me somewhere — for I can feel the 
 balls hinside hof me ; sp'iling a good new suit hof clothes, 
 rolling there like a pig, and not dead hafter hall ; hand that 
 there nigger shooting away like mad hall the time, which his 
 a mercy to be thankful for ! Wah ! wah 1 " 
 
 And, with her usual look of sour disgust immeasurably 
 heightened, Miss Priscilla gathered up her own muddy skirts 
 and marched, like a loaded rifle all ready to go ofit", into a 
 long, black, chill, littered hall. 
 
 Half a dozen frightened darkies were crouching in the 
 further corner, and on these Miss Priscilla turned the muz- 
 zle of the rifle, and a sharp volley of oddly-jumbled up sen- 
 tences went off in tones of keenest irony. 
 
 " Yes ; you may stand there, you hugly black leeches, 
 hafter shooting us hevery one — though looks ain't hof no 
 consequence in this horrid place ; hand hif you don't get 
 'ung for it some day, my name hain't Priscilla Dorothea 
 Toosypegs ! Perhaps you'll show me where my nevvy his, 
 which you've shot so nicely, hand make a fire, hafter keep- 
 ing hus rolling hin the mud, getting our death hof cold 
 in this 'orrid cold 'ouse, which, being a respectable female, 
 hand not a pig, I hain't used to ; hand Hamerica mud hain't 
 the nicest thing I ever saw for to eat ; so maybe you'll get 
 hus some dinner, hand show me to where my nevvy his, hif 
 
JLfcAJJRftii 
 
 
 JELWCL 
 
 ii8 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 you please," concluded Miss Priscilla, in tones of most cut- 
 ting irony. 
 
 The terrified servants understood enough of this singular 
 address to know Miss Toosypegs wished for a fire, her din- 
 ner, and her nephew. An old woman, therefore, in a gaudy 
 Madras turban, advanced, and led the way up a rickety 
 flight of stairs into a comfortless-looking room, with a damp, 
 unaired odor, where, on a bed, lay the mortal remains of 
 O. C. Toosypegs, with the darkey — whose name I may as 
 well say at once was Cupid— giving him a most vigorous rub- 
 bing, which extorted from the dead man sundry groans and 
 grimaces and encouraged Cupid to still further exertions. 
 
 The loaded rifle advanced to the bedside, and a second 
 volley wen off. 
 
 " Come, Horlander Toosypegs, get hup hout o' that, lying 
 there in this musty hold room, face and hall plastered hover 
 with mud, which his enough to give you the rheumatism the 
 longest day you live, without the first spark hof a fire — so it 
 is!" 
 
 " I'm dying. Aunt Priscilla ; stay with me to the last ! "in 
 the faintest whisper, responded Mr. Toosypegs, languidly 
 opening his eyes, and then shutting them again. 
 
 " Dying ? Wah, wah I " grunted Miss Priscilla, catching 
 him by the shoulder and shaking him with no gentle hand. 
 " Pretty corpse you'll make, hall hover with mud, hand looks 
 has much like dying has I do." 
 
 " De brunderingbuss an' de pissels war only loaded wid 
 powder— no shot in 'em at all. 'Deed, old missus, he ain't 
 hurted the fustest mite, only he t'inks so." 
 
 " Hold 1 " shrieked Miss Priscilla, turning fiercely upon 
 Cupid. " You impident black nigger, you ! to call me hold I 
 Leave the room this very minute, hand never let me see your 
 hugly, black face hagain I " 
 
 " Come— you are not hurt — get up I " said Ketura, going 
 over to the bedside, as poor Cupid, crestfallen, slunk away. 
 " There is not a hair of your head injured. Up with 
 you 1 " 
 
 " Am I not shot ? " demanded Mr. Toosypegs, bewildered. 
 " Did the bullet not enter my brain ? " 
 
 " You never had any for it to enter," said the gipsy, en- 
 
 v.mmmmuimmtml, 
 
■"T"""-'"' mr"' 
 
 THE NEW HOME. 
 
 119 
 
 nost cut- 
 singular 
 her din- 
 I a gaudy 
 a rickety 
 1 a damp, 
 mains of 
 [ may as 
 irous rub- 
 Dans and 
 tions. 
 a second 
 
 lat, lying 
 ed hover 
 itism the 
 re — so it 
 
 last! "in 
 languidly 
 
 catching 
 tie hand, 
 ind looks 
 
 ided wid 
 he ain't 
 
 sly upon 
 me hold 1 
 ; see your 
 
 ra, going 
 ink away. 
 Up with 
 
 iwildered. 
 
 jipsy, en- 
 
 couragingly. " Look yourself ; there is neither wound nor 
 blood." 
 
 " No ; but it's bleeding inwardly," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 with a hollow groan. "Oh, I know I'm a dead man I " 
 
 " Chut I I have no patience with you I Get up, man 1 you 
 are as well as ever ! " impatiently exclaimed Ketura. 
 
 Slowly Mr. Toospyegs, who had immense faith in Ketura, 
 lifted first one arm and then another to see if either were 
 powerless. Satisfied on this point, he next lifted each leg ; 
 and finding, to his great astonishment, that his limbs were 
 all sound, lie carefully began to raise himself up in bed. No 
 torrent of blood followed this desperate attempt, as he ex- 
 pected there would be ; and the next minute, Mr. Orlando 
 Toosypegs stood, safe and sound, on the floor, looking about 
 as sheepish a young gentleman as you would find from 
 Maine to Florida. 
 
 " You thought you was gone — didn't you ? " said the little 
 witch, Raymond, with a malicious chuckle of delight, as he 
 watched the chopfallen hero of the pallid features. 
 
 Miss Toosypegs merely contented herself with a look of 
 \')hy contempt more withering than words, and then rustled 
 out to rouse up the " hugly black leeches" on the subject of 
 dinners and fires. 
 
 Having succeeded in both objects especially in the dinner 
 department, which Aunt Bob, the presiding deity of the 
 kitchen, had got up in sublime style. Miss Priscilla was in 
 somewhat better humor ; and having announced her inten- 
 tion of beginning a thorough reformation both out doors and 
 in, turned briskly to her nephew, who sat in a very dejected 
 state of mind, without so much as a word to say for himself, 
 and exclaimed ; 
 
 " Now, Horlander, the best thing you can do is, to go im- 
 mediately hand see habout getting a 'ouse for Mrs. Ketura 
 hand the children, which would never survive a day in this 
 damp hold barn ; besides, being to do some time or bother, 
 it mayhas well be did first has last, hand save the ,spense 
 hof a doctor's bill, which his the hunpleasantest thing hever 
 was stuck hin hanybody's face." 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs, who felt he would never more dare to 
 call his soul his own, meekly put on his hat, and said he 
 would go and see about a ccUage he knew of which would 
 
m 
 
 
 :aiva 
 
 120 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 suit Mrs. Ketura to a T. The fact was, he was glad to 
 escape from his aur.t ; and that good lady, who had classed 
 Mrs Ketura and the children under the somewhat indefinite 
 title of " riff-raff" from the first, was equally anxious to be 
 
 ''VateuiTt evening, Mr. Toosypegs returned, with the satis- 
 factory news that he had obtained the cottage, which be- 
 longed, he informed them, to a certain Admiral Havenful, who 
 not having any particular use for it himself, said they might 
 have it rcntfree. The cottage was furnished ; just as it had 
 been let by its last tenant; and Mrs. Ketura might pitch her 
 tent there, with a safe conscience, as fast as she liked. ^ 
 " You had better take one of the servants with you, too, 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, good-naturedly; " we have rnore than 
 we want, and you will require one to mind the baby, and 
 fetch water, and do chores. I think Lucy will do as well as 
 
 Miss Toosypegs frowned at first ; but remembering, upon 
 second thoughts that there was already a tribe of useless 
 negroes and dogs, eating them out of house and home, she 
 gave a sharp assent, at last, to her nephew's arrangement. 
 
 Early the next morning, Mr. Toosypegs, Ketura, Ray- 
 mond, Erminie, and the negress, Lucy, entered the wagon, 
 and turned their backs upon Dismal Hollow. 
 
 Half an hour's drive through a forest-road, all aglow with 
 the leafy splendor of early July, brought them to the sea- 
 shore Far removed from any other habitation, stood a 
 pretty little whitewashed cottage, a little fair>'-bandbox of a 
 place, on a bank above the sea, nestling like a pearl set m 
 emerdds as it gleamed through a wilderness of vmes and 
 shrubs. A wide, dry, arid expanse, overrun with blueberry 
 and cranberry vines, spread before the door toward the 
 north, as far as the eye could reach. Far in the distance, 
 they could see a iiuge house, of a dazzling whiteness un- 
 shaded by tree or vine, as it stood in the fvill glare of the 
 hot sun, 'dazzling the eye of the g-er This Mr Toosy- 
 pegs gave them to understand, was the " White Squall, the 
 residence of Admiral Havenful; and the dry plains spread- 
 inn into the distance were very appropriately known as the 
 " Barrens." South and east, a dense forest snut mtne view, 
 and to the west spread out the boundless sea. 
 
"AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 X2I 
 
 was glad to 
 D had classed 
 hat indefinite 
 inxious to be 
 
 viththe satis- 
 ;e, which be- 
 lavenful, who, 
 id they might 
 just as it had 
 ght pitch her 
 le liked, 
 ath you, too," 
 ve more than 
 the baby, and 
 I do as well as 
 
 Tibering, upon 
 ibe of useless 
 .nd home, she 
 rrangement. 
 Ketura, Ray- 
 ed the wagon, 
 
 all aglow with 
 em to the sea- 
 ation, stood a 
 ^-bandbox of a 
 ; a pearl set in 
 J of vines and 
 with blueberry 
 lor toward the 
 1 the distance, 
 whiteness, un- 
 lU glare of the 
 lis, Mr. Toosy- 
 \te Squall," the 
 plains spread- 
 y known as the 
 shut la the vievr. 
 a. 
 
 " No" , Mrs. Ketura," said Mr. Toosypegs, in a mysteri- 
 ous whisper, " you can't live upon green vines and blue- 
 berries, nor yet you can't stay in this cottage from morning 
 till night, you know, though I dare say Aunt Priscilla thinks 
 you can. Therefore you must take this purse — half of which 
 the admiral gave me for you last night, and the other half — 
 well, no matter. Then, as you'll want to go to Judestown to 
 market, and to church, sometimes, I'll send over the pony 
 and the old buggy ; but don't you say a word about it to 
 Aunt Priscilla — womeii don't need to know anything, you 
 know, as they don't always view things in their proper lights 
 and Aunt Priscilla's queer any way. If there's anything else 
 you want, just you send Lucy Tor it to Dismal Hollow, and 
 you shall have it, Mrs. Ketura, for I like you real well." 
 
 " You are very kind," said the gipsy, again touched by 
 his good-nature ; " and I hope you will always regard your- 
 self as one of the family." 
 
 " Hark you, Mrs.Ketura," said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of 
 delight. " 1 certainly will, since you wish it. Til drop in 
 very often. I'm very much obliged to you." 
 
 And, waving his hand briskly, Mr. Toosypegs resumed 
 his seat in the wagon, and drove off again to Dismal Hol- 
 low. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 AFTER MANY DAYS. 
 
 " I will paint her as I see her. 
 Ten times have the lilies blown 
 Since she looked upon the sun." 
 
 —Browning. 
 
 And ten years passed away. 
 
 It was a jocund morning in early spring. From the pine 
 woods came the soft twittering of innumerable birds, filling 
 the air with melody ; while the soft, fragrant odor of the tall 
 swinging pines came floating on every passing breeze. The 
 sun rose in unclouded splendor above the darktree-tops, and 
 the bright waves of the Chesapeake danced and flashed in 
 
 i i'l 
 
rr;^«:<». 
 
 
 122 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I: I 
 
 the golden rays. No sound broke the deep, profound still- 
 ness of the wide, dry moor ; no living thing, save now and 
 then some solitary bird that skimmed along over the fern, 
 was to be seen. Far away in every direction nothing met 
 the eye but the blue, unclouded sky above, and the bleak, 
 arid barrens below, that lay hot and dry In the glare of the 
 morning sunshine. 
 
 Suddenly the sylvan silence of the spot was bioken by 
 the clear, sweet notes of a hunting-horn, that startled the 
 echoes far and near, and the next moment the forms of a 
 horse and rider came dashing over the moor. 
 
 The horse was a splendid animal, a small, jet-black Ara- 
 bian, with graceful, tapering limbs, arching neck, flowing 
 mane, and small, erect head, and bright, fiery eyes. His 
 rider was a young girl of some twelve years, who sat her 
 horse like an Arab hunter, and whose dark, unique style of 
 beauty merits a wider description. 
 
 She was very slight and rather tall for her age ; but with a 
 finely proportioned figure, displayed now to the best ad- 
 vantage by her well-fitting riding habit — which consisted of a 
 skirt of dark-green cloth, a tight basque of black velvet. 
 Her face was thin and dark and somewhat elfish, but the 
 olive skin was smooth as satin, and deepening with deepest 
 crimson in the thin cheeks and lips. Her forehead was low 
 broad, and polished ; her saucy little nose decidedly retrousse ; 
 her teeth like pearls, and her hands and feet perfect. And 
 then her eyes — such great, black, lustrous, glorious eyes, 
 through which at times a red light shone — such splendid 
 eyes, vailed by long, jetty, silken lashes, and arched by 
 glossy black eyebrows, smooth and shining as water-leeches 
 — eyes full of fun, frolic, freedom, and dauntless daring — 
 eyes that would haunt the memory of the beholder for many a 
 day. Her hair, "woman's crowning glory," was of intensest 
 blackness, and clustered in short, dancing curls round 
 her dark, bright, sparkling face. In the shade those curls 
 were of midnight darkness, but in sunshine, red rings of 
 fire shone through like tiny circlets of flame. She wore a 
 small, black velvet hat, whose long sable plume just touched 
 her warm, crimson cheek. 
 
 Such was the huntress, who with a pistol stuck in her belt, 
 a little rifle swung across her shoulder, dashed along over 
 
*• AFTER MANY DAWS. 
 
 123 
 
 the moor, holding the bridle lightly in one hand, and swing- 
 ing jauntily, a silver-mounted riding whip in the other. 
 
 As she reached the center of the moor, she reined in her 
 horse so suddenly that he nearly reared upright, and then, 
 lifting her little silver bugle again to her lips, she blew a 
 blast that echoed in notes of clearest melody far over the 
 heath. 
 
 This time her signal was answered — a loud shout from a 
 spirited voice met her ear, and in another instant another 
 actor appeared upon the scene. 
 
 He, too, was mounted, and rode his horse well. He was 
 a tall, slender stripling of alxjut fifteen, and in some ways 
 not unlike the girl. He had the same dark complexion, the 
 same fiery black eyes and hair ; but there all resemblance 
 oeased. The look of saucy drollery on her face was re- 
 placed on his by a certain fierce pride — an expression at 
 once haughty and daring. He was handsome, exceedingly, 
 with regular, classical features, a perfect form, and had that 
 mark of high birth, the small and exquisitely-shap'^d ear, 
 and thin curving nostril. Erect he sat in his saddle, like 
 a young prince of the blood. 
 
 " Bon matin, Monsieur Raymond ! " shouted the girl, as 
 he gallantly raised his cap and let the morning breeze lift 
 his dark locks. " I thought the sun would not find you in 
 bed the first morning after your return home. How does 
 your serene highness find yourself ? " 
 
 " In excellent health and spirits. I'm very much obliged 
 to you — as our friend Mr. Toosypegs would say," answered 
 Master Raymond, for he it is, as he laughingly rode up be- 
 side her. " Where's Ranty ? " 
 
 " In bed. That fellow's as lazy as sin, and would rather 
 lie there, sleeping like some old grampus, than enjoy a ride 
 over the hills the finest morning that ever was." 
 
 •' How do you know grampuses are fond of sleeping?" 
 said Raymond. 
 
 " How do I know ? "' said the girl, in a high key, getting 
 somewhat indignant. " I know very well they are ? Doesn't 
 Miss Toosypegs, when she's talking about Orlando sleeping 
 in the morning, always say he's ' snoring like a grampus '? 
 
 rnnA if A^^icc Pric/^illi /-l/-if>cn 'f Irnnuj that'*; Hppn tr» F.nclanH 
 
 " ' ■ ' • •■ - ; — — 't> » 
 
 and every place el .«,, I would like to know who does 1 " 
 
.,^, 
 
 134 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i( 
 
 i Well, I've been to England, too," said Raymond. 
 
 .. Yes and a great deal of good it's done you 1 said the 
 young lady, contemptuously. " But that's the way always^ 
 Ever since Ranty and you went to college, you've got so 
 ftuck up and Joi Latin and Greek, and stuff there's no 
 sanding either of you. Last night, Ranty had to go and 
 ask aunt Deb for the bootjack in Latin, and when she 
 couldn't understand him, he went round kicking the cat and 
 mv nine beautiful kittens, in the most awful manner tha 
 ever w-xs; and swearing at her in Greek-the hateful 
 
 ""^And Miss Petronilla Lawless scowled at Raymond, who 
 
 ^^^fJ^lVSe'now, Pet, don't be angry 1 " he said^ 
 .. Where's the use of quarreling the very hrst morning we 
 
 ""Quarreling!" repeated Miss Pet, shortly : " I'm sure I 
 don'? wlnt to quarrel; but you're so^ aggravating. Boys 
 always are just the hatefulest things— 
 
 .'^75/ hateful, Miss Lawless," amended Raymond, gravely. 
 " There's a great deal of good sense but bad grammar in 
 that sentence. I don't like boys mys. " half so well ^as I do 
 girls-for instance, you're worth a dozen of Ranty. 
 ^ .' Yes • vou say si now, when Ranty ain't listening ; but 
 if vou wanted to go off on some mischief or other, I guess 
 vou wouldn't think of me. But that's the way I'm always 
 [reated, pitched round like an old shoe, without even daring 
 
 to sav a word for myself." ,• i , ^Uc 
 
 This melancholy view of things, more particularly he 
 idea of Miss Pet's not having a " word to say [or herself, 
 str^k Raymond as so inexpressibly ludicrous, that he gave 
 vent to a shout of laughter. uu„tit'^ 
 
 « Yes vou may laugh ! " said Pet, indignantly ; ' but t s 
 true and you ought to be ashamed of yourself, making fun 
 of people in this wav. I am not going to stand being im- 
 pofe^ upon much longer, either 1 If Miss P-al a kee^p 
 snubbing and putting down Mr. Toosypegs all the time, that 
 T't no^reason why I'm to be snubbed and put downtoo-is 
 
 it ? " 
 
 ■» Why Pet, what's the matter with you this morning?" 
 exclaimed Raymond. " I never knew you so cross ; ha^ the 
 
"AFTER MANY DAYS." 
 
 125 
 
 judge scolded you, or have you bagged no game, or has your 
 
 pony cast a shoe, or — " , . „ , 1 • -n^* 
 
 "No, none of them things has happened I broke m Pet, 
 crossly " I suppose you'd keep on or, or, or-ing till dooms- 
 day if I let you ! It's worse still, and I wouldn't mmd 
 much if you shot me on the sp^tl " said Pet, in a tone of 
 such deep desperation that Raymond looked at her m real 
 
 alarm. ... 1 
 
 " Why, Pet, what has happened ? " he mquired, anxiously, 
 
 " Nothing really serious, I hope." 
 
 '« Yes, it is really serious. I'm going to be sent to school 
 —there now I " said Pet, as near crying as an elf could be. 
 
 «« Oh 1 is that all ? " said Raymond, immeasurably relieved. 
 «' Well I don't see anything so very dreadful in that." 
 
 " Don't you, indeed ? " exclaimed Pet, witn flashing eyes. 
 •'Well, if there's anything more dreadful, I'd like to know 
 what it is 1 To be cooped up in a great dismal dungeon of 
 a schoolhouse from one year's end to t'other, and never get 
 a chance to sneeze without asking leave first. I won't go, 
 either, if I die for it 1 " 
 
 " And so you'll grow up and not know B from a cow s 
 horn," said Raymond. " I am sure you need to go bad 
 
 enough." , ^ ,, _ 
 
 " I don't need it, either 1 " angrily retorted Pet. I can 
 read first-rate now, without spelling more than h-alf the 
 words ; and write— I wish you could see how beautifully I 
 can make some of the letters 1 " , , • 
 
 " Oh 1 I saw a specimen yesterday— Minnie showed it to 
 me— looked as if a hen had dipped her foot in an ink-bottle 
 and clawed it over the paper." 
 
 " Why, you horrid, hateful, sassy " 
 
 «' Abandoned, impertinent young man 1 " interrupted Ray- 
 mond. " There 1 I've helped you out with it. And now 
 look here, Pet, how do you expect to be raised to the dig- 
 nity of my wife, some day, if you don't learn something .^ 
 Why, when we are married, you'll have to make your mark 1 
 
 " I've a good mind to do t now with my whip ! ' ex- 
 claimed Pet, flourishing it in dangerous proximity to his 
 head. "Your wife, indeed 1 I guess notl I'm to be a 
 President's lady sowe day, Aunt Deb says. Catch me mar- 
 rying you I " 
 
 Ki 
 
"¥i: 
 
 ^ai^ 
 
 136 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I f 
 
 «« Well, that will be your loss. Where is the judge going 
 
 to send you ? " . , t • . 
 
 " Why, he says to the Sacred Heart ; but I am t gone 
 yet I I'd a heap sooner go to Judestown, with Minnie, to 
 that school where all the boys and girls go together. Oh, 
 Ray 1 there are just the nicest boys ever was there— 'spe- 
 cially one with the beautifulest red cheeks, and the loveliest 
 bright buttons on his coat ever you seen I " 
 And Pet's eyes sparkled at the recollection. 
 " Who is he ? " said Raymond, who did not look by any 
 means so delighted as Pet fancied he should. 
 
 " His name's Bobby Brown ; and only he's all as yellow 
 as the yolk of an egg ever since he had the ja'nders, he'd be 
 real pretty. But I'm getting hungry. Ray. I'll race you to 
 the cottage, and bet you anything I'll beat you 1 " 
 
 " Done 1 " cried Ray, catching the excitement now spark- 
 ling in the dark, brilliant face of the little fay beside him ; 
 and crushing his cap down over his thick curls, he bounded 
 after her as she dashed away. 
 
 But Pet was better mounted, and the best /ider of the two ; 
 and a ringing, triumphant laugh came borne tantalizingly to 
 his ears as she distanced him by full twenty yards, and gal- 
 loped up to the little white cottage on the Barrens. 
 
 " Fairly beaten 1 " he said, laughing, as he sprung off. 
 « I am forced to own myself conquered, though I hate to do 
 
 it " 
 'Though he laughed, his look of intense mortification 
 
 showed how galling was defeat • , . *u 
 
 " Ahem 1 and how do you expect to be raised to the 
 dienity of my husband some day, if you don't learn to ride 
 better ? Why, when we're married, I'll have to give you 
 lessons 1 " said Pet, demurely ; though her wicked eyes were 
 twinkling with irrepressible fun under their long lashes. 
 
 «' Oh I see I " said Ray, gayly. " Poetical justice, eh ? 
 Paying me in my own coin ? Well, if you can beat me m 
 riding, you can't in anything else 1 " 
 
 "Can't I, though?" said Pet, defiantly. " Just you try 
 target-shooting, or pulling a stroke oar with me, and you 11 
 see 1 Schools where they teach you the Greek for bootjack 
 ain't the best places for learning them sort of thmgs, 1 
 reckon 1 " 
 
"AFTER MANY DA , v 
 
 1 97 
 
 any 
 
 1 
 
 The thunder of horses' hoofs had hv - l ne bi-f ught 
 another personage to the stage. 
 
 It was Enninie — " sweet Erminie," iL ile beauty and 
 heiress of a princely fortune and estate. 
 
 The promise of Erminie's childhood had been more than 
 fulfilled. Wondrously lovely she was 1 How could the child 
 of Lord Ernest Villiers and Lady Maude Percy be other- 
 wise ? She had still the same snowy skin of her infancy, 
 softly and brightly tinged with the most delicate pink on the 
 rounded cheeks; her face was perfectly oval, and almost 
 transparent ; her eyes were of the deepest, darkest violet 
 hue ; her long curls, that reached nearly to her waist, were 
 like burnished gold, and the snow-white forehead and taper- 
 ing limbs were perfect. In spite of the difference between 
 them, though one was dark and impetuous, the other fair 
 and gentle, yet there was a resemblance between Raymond 
 and Erminie. You could see it most plainly when they 
 smiled ; it was the smile of Lady Maude that lit up both 
 faces with that strange, nameless beauty. 
 
 "Oh, Petl I'm so glad you've come!" she joyfully ex- 
 claimed. " Guess who's here ? " 
 
 «• Who ? Ranty ? " said Pet. 
 
 •« No, indeed. Mr. Toosypegs. He heard Ray was come, 
 and rode over this morning to see him." 
 
 " Oh, I must see Mr. Toosypegs I " exclaimed Ray, laugh- 
 ing, as he bounded past the two girls, and sprung into the 
 
 house. 
 
 It was a neat, pleasant little sitting-room, with white-mus- 
 lin blinds in the windows, that were already darkened with 
 vines; clean, straw matting on the floor and chairs, table, 
 iuid ceiling fairly glistening with cleanliness. There was a 
 wide fireplace opposite the door, filled with fragrant pine- 
 boughs, and sitting in a low rocking-chair of Erminie's, in 
 the corner, was our old friend, Mr. O. C. Toosypegs, per- 
 fectly unchanged in every respect since we saw him last. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Toosypegs, how do you do ? I hope you have 
 been quite well since I saw you last 1 " cried the spirited 
 voice of Ray as he grasped Mr. Toosypegs's hand and gave 
 it a cordial shake. 
 
 " Thank vou, Master Raymond, I've been quite well, I m 
 very much 'obliged to you," said Mr. Toosypegs, wriggling 
 
 'til 
 

 ■mr 
 
 
 TJ.VO 
 
 
 t: i 
 
 „8 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 '"Toogs and all, I hope, Orlando?" said Pet, as she en- 
 
 '''' Yes, Miss Pet. the dogs arc quite well. Im obliged to 
 
 ^-: ..: 'rrr;i!r^ ^n;^:f l^nl IVe been in a 
 statc^^f nUnd all the week, and there's no telling how longU 
 
 '"'' clood'gracious 1 you don't say so I " said the alarmed 
 Mr Too^'sypegs. 'it's not anything dangerous, I 
 
 ^'Tvvell people generally think the smallpox is^ dangerous !'' 
 began Pet' with f sort of gloomy ^^-nness when she was >n 
 terVuptcd by Mr. Toosypegs, who, seizmg his hat, rushed to 
 the door, shriekmg out : . p 
 
 .^The smallpox! Oh, my gracious! ^5^7. J^'^J [^J; 
 how could vou go to come here, and give it o us all like 
 £ 'go Jd gracious 1 for to think of being all full of hdt^ 
 like a potato-steamer 1 " said Mr. Toosypegs. wiping the cold 
 
 P^^f C th^ ^alli^x "n't no circumstance to my trouble^^ 
 went on Pet. as if she hadn't heard him. '« I'm going to be 
 sent to school I " u^.^'f cr^* the small- 
 
 Srngerri" asfu7e' you"' pft .as only using an illustrat.on 
 
 """Good'graciousl" exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, dropping 
 i„,oachaifand wiping his face with h.shandkerch.ef, .f 
 
 out of 1 " said Pet, . ...nging her nding-whip. I m apt 
 
 ^^'.?nUM''thinrso:"'i:id r':;. ■.■ ?o you renumber .he 
 „i,,,t She coaxed vou «- sailing »-th her, Mr Joos^^^^^^^^ 
 
 TumnTyou t sh^r^rt'hair o. your head ! That was 
 
 .<Y haven't got it out of my bones yet," saia Mr. x.u./- 
 
AFTER MANY DAYS." 
 
 139 
 
 rtn _» 
 
 1 uuaj- 
 
 pegs, mournfully. " I never oxpectcd such treatment from 
 Miss Pet. I'm sure, and 1 don't know what I had ever lUrnt: 
 to (leserva it." 
 
 " Well, don't he mad, Orlando. I'll never do it again," 
 waid Ptt, in a ,u.c'ply-j)enitent tone. " Ihit. I say, Minnie, 
 when we a;e going to have breakfast ? I've an awful ap- 
 petite this morning." 
 
 " In a moment. Hurry, Lucy," said Erminie, as she en- 
 to'cd the room. 
 
 " I was just upstairs, bringing grandmother her break- 
 fast." 
 
 " Hem I How is the old lady ? " inquired Miss Pet. 
 
 " As well as usual. She hardly ever comes down-stairs 
 now. Do hurry, Lucy. Miss Lawless will soon be starved, 
 if you keep on so slowly ! " 
 
 " Lor' sakes 1 I is hurryin', Miss Minnie," said Lucy, as 
 she bustled in, drew out a small, round table, laid the cloth, 
 and prepared to arrange the breakfast-service. " 'Spect dat 
 ar' little limb t'inks folks ought to git up de night afore, to 
 have breakfast ready time 'nuff for her," muttered Lucy to 
 herself, looking daggers at Pet Lawless, who, swinging her 
 riding-hat in one hand and her whip in the other, watched 
 Lucy's motions wi*^h a critical eye. Erminie, with her sunny 
 face and ready hands, assisted in the arrangements ; and 
 soon the whole party were assembled round the table, doing 
 ample justice to Lucy's morning meal. 
 
 And while they were thus engaged, I shall claim your 
 patience for a moment, dear reader, while we cast a brief 
 retrospective glance over the various changes that have oc- 
 curred during those ten years. 
 
 By the kind care of good-natured Mr. Toosypegs and his 
 friend. Admiral Havenful, the gipsy Ketura had htvn amply 
 provided for. As Raymond and Erminie grt-w up. they had 
 been sent to Judestovvn to school, with the children of Judge 
 Lawless, whose daughter, Miss Pet, has already been intro- 
 luced to the reader. The dark, gloomy recluse, Ketura, 
 Was an object of dread and dislike to the neighborhood 
 around. She shunned and avoided them, lived her own in- 
 ward life independent of them all, and was therefore hated 
 by them. And when, about a year previous to the present 
 time^ she received a severe paralytic strokej from the effects 
 
 Iff! 
 
n> 
 
 
 :aiva 
 
 'I 
 
 l^' 
 
 130 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 of which she never fully recovered, very little sorrow was 
 felt o expressed. Sweet, gentle little Ermmje was however 
 a favorite with all, and so was the bold, bright, high-sp.nted 
 Rayr^ond. to wh;m the somewhat eccentric old Admiral 
 Salenful took such a fancy that he insisted on sending hm 
 to college with his nephew, Ranty, or Randolph La^^less 
 To colle^ge, therefore, the boys went ; and Lrminie remained 
 i the Bfrrens, and went every fine day to Judestown to the 
 d strict chool sometimes, but very rarely, accompanied by 
 Pe Lawless; for that wild young lady voted schools and 
 ^rhool-teachers and " Committee men," unmitigated bores, 
 t and;^t^red her own '« sweet will "and her pony Star- 
 liaht to suffering through " readin', writin and refmetic. 
 f vain her father, the fudge, stormed and threatened her 
 with all sorts of calamities. Pet, metaphysically speaking 
 Tapped her finger in the face of all authority ; and the mo^e 
 they wanted her to go, the more .she^'°"^^",Vtt herto 
 ^//ofTer to do her best to learn if they would let her go 
 with Ray and Ranty. But gaiters were things forbidden in- 
 TidetheUege gates; and besides Ranty very ungalla^^^^^^ 
 protested that all girls in general, and "our Pet j" P^^ c- 
 E, were nothing but "pests," and that he wouldn t have 
 her near him at any price. Master Ranty Lawless did no 
 ke the female persuasion, and once gruffly announced that 
 ;;'^dra of heavL was, a place where boys could do as they 
 liked and where there were no girls. So as Pet naa no 
 mother to look after her. and queened it over the servants 
 Thome she erew up pretty much as she liked, and was 
 no ed far and'near as 'the wildest, maddest, skip-over-the- 
 moon madcap that ever threw a peaceable community into 
 
 '"^Thls niuch being premised, It is only necessary to say that 
 R.v a Id Ranty had returned from college for a few n^^nths 
 ^;i:Uon the day previous to the commencement of this 
 chapter, and then go on with our story, t,^^^^__„ > m 
 
 -'When is Miss PrisciUa coming over, Mr, Toosypegs . 
 asked Erminie, as she filled for the third time his cup with 
 
 *''?'Moifrrtv"en'ing/' "replied Mr. Toosypegs, speaking with 
 his mouth full ; " she's going to bring you a parcel of musim 
 things to work for her." 
 
I HHii>miB|BI" ' II ' T'l""*'""' ' 
 
 AFTER MANY DAYS." 
 
 I3« 
 
 " The collar and cape she was speaking of, I guess," said 
 Erminie, with her pleasant smile. 
 
 " How in the world, Ermie," exclaimed Pet, " do you find 
 time to work for everybody ? I never saw you a moment 
 idle yet." 
 
 " Well, it is pleasanter to be doing something," said Erminie ; 
 " and besides. Miss Pr'scilla can't do fine sewing, her eyes 
 are so weak, you know. I can't bear to sit still and do noth- 
 ing; I like to sew, or read, or something." 
 
 " Ugh t sewing is the most horrid thing," said Pet, with a 
 shrug; " I don't mind reading a pretty story to pass time now 
 and then ; but to- sit down and go stitch — stitch — stitching, 
 for hours steady — well, I know I'd soon be in a strait-jacket 
 if I tried it, thafs all ! I was reading a real nice book the 
 other night." 
 
 " What was it ? " asked Ray. " I should like to see the 
 book you would like to read." 
 
 " Well, there ain't many I like, but, oh 1 this one was ever 
 so nice. It was all about a hateful old Jew who lent money 
 to a man that wanted to go somewhere a-courting ; and then 
 this Jew wanted to cut off a pound of his flesh, to eat, I ex- 
 pect — the nasty old cannibal ! And then this lady, I forget 
 her name, came and dressed herself up in man's clothes, and 
 got him — the fellow who went courting, you know — off some- 
 wheres. Oh, it was splendid I I'll lend you the book, some- 
 time, Minnie."' 
 
 " Why, it must have been the ' Merchant of Venice ' you 
 read," said Ray, " though such a jumbled up account of it as 
 that, I never heard. I'll go over for the book to-morrow and 
 read it to Min, if she cares about hearing it." 
 
 Before Erminie could reply, a surprised ejaculation from 
 Pet made her turn quickly round. Ray's eyes wandered in 
 the same direction, while Mr. Toosypegs sprung from his 
 seat in terror ; thereby badly scalding himself with the hot 
 coffee, at the sight which met hie astonished eyes. 
 
 fl> 
 

 :3xva 
 
 132 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 t: 
 
 V'v 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 MASTER RANTY. 
 « A rare compound of oddity, frolic .nd i^^"^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 A LITTLE old, decrepit woman, bent double with age, 
 leaning on a staff, and shaking with palsy, ^tood ^^ -d- 
 
 UnTv before them as if she had sprung up through the earth. 
 H'^d^ess wa the most astonishing comi^lication of rags 
 
 h. eve hung together on a human back before. A lon^ 
 
 cHaJhioned'cloak that, a hundred years ^orc^f^^^ 
 
 1 11 u,...,, ell thp r'12-e swept behmd her, ana as lu 
 Sl^ ng:Lm:d ilflmminLt danger of throwing the 
 
 m ortun xte old lady over her own head, every mnnite. A 
 Wn sun-b ned^face, half hidden in masses of coarse 
 ^ °v ha rs peered wildly out ; and from under a pair of 
 Sy o:;rLnging, grJy eyebrows, gleamed two kee^ 
 needle-like eyes, as sharp as two-edged stdettob. ims 
 sine h^^^ wore a man's old beaver hat on her head 
 
 whtch was forcibly retained on that palsy-shaking member 
 by a scaJlet bandanna handkerchief passed over the crown, 
 
 ^"ll^^rJ:^ UtS"iooping, unearthly-looking crcm.^ 
 one oHhe mist singular sights that mortal eyes ever beheld 
 So completely antazed were the whole assembly .hat for 
 some five minut'es they stood staring in silent wonder a^ this 
 unexpected and most startling apparition. The little oia 
 woman steadying herself with some difficulty on her cane 
 Thaded her eyes with one hand, and peered at them withher 
 
 '^< 'Don't' be afeard, pretty ladies and gentlemen ''said the 
 little oW ady, in a shrill, sharp falsetto. " I won't hurt none 
 o' vou ef vou behave yourselves. I.guess I m.y come in ? 
 ■ And suiting the action to the word, liie ntue owwc. U the 
 
sf^mff** 
 
 MASTER RANTY. 
 
 133 
 
 >" 
 
 extraordinary head-dress hobbled in, and composedly 
 dumped herself down into the rocking-chair Mr. Toosypegs 
 had lately vacate . 
 
 " Now, what in the name of Hecate and all the witches, 
 does this mean ? " exclaimed Pet, first recovering her pres- 
 ence of mind. 
 
 " It means that I'll take some breakfas', if you'll bring it 
 down, Miss," said the little old woman, laying her formi- 
 dable-looking stick across her lap ; and favoring the company, 
 one and all, with a prolonged stare from her keen bright 
 eyes. 
 
 " Well, now, that's what I call cool," said Pet, completely 
 taken aback by the old woman's sang /mid. " Perhaps your 
 ladyship will be condescending enough to sit over here and 
 help yourself ? " 
 
 " No thankee," squeaked her ladyship. " I'd rather have 
 it here, if it's all the same to you. I ain't as smart as I used 
 to was; and don't like to be getting up much. Perhaps 
 t'other young gal wouldn't mind bringing it here, she added, 
 looking at the astonished Erminie. 
 
 Roused out of her trance of astonishment, not unmingled 
 with terror, by claims of hospitality, Erminie hastened to 
 comply ; and placing a cup of fragrant coffee and some but- 
 tered waffles on a light waiter, placed it on a chair within 
 the old woman's reach. 
 
 That small individual immediately fell to, with an alacrity 
 quite astonishing, considering her size and age ; and coffee 
 and waffles in a remarkably short space of time were " among 
 the things that were, but are no longer." 
 
 " Thankee, young 'oman, that was very nice," said the old 
 woman, drnwing out a flaming yellow cotton pocket-handker- 
 chief, and wiping her mouth, as a sign she had finished ; 
 " my appetite ain't so good as it used to be ; I reckon that'll 
 do for the present. What's your dinner hour, young gals ? " 
 " Little after midnight," said Pet. 
 
 " Humph 1 I reckon you're trying to poke fun at me, Miss 
 Pet Lawless ; but no good ever comes of telling lies. Mave 
 ye ever heard tell on Ananias and Sapphira ? " asked the 
 old woman, turning sharply on Pet. 
 
 " Whew 1 ghosts, and goblins, and warlocks I She knows 
 my name 1 " whistled Pet, in unbounded astonishment. 
 
" y m" ' 
 
 axva 
 
 ri 
 
 ^4 
 
 134 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 u Yes ; I know more about you than I want to know," 
 said the little old woman, with a scowl. 
 
 ''Well, you ain't the only one in that plight, if that's any 
 consolation," said Pet, carelessly. 
 
 " Do vou know who I am, too ? said Ray. 
 
 -Yes I've heern tell on you," said the old woman, shortly. 
 
 " And no good either, I'll be bound ! " said Pet. 
 
 '' Well, no ; sence you say it 1 never did hear any good o^ 
 him "said the old woman, taking out a huge snuil-box, and 
 composedly helping herself to a pinch. 
 
 " What did you hear about me, mother ? said Ray, laugh 
 ing, as he shook his curly black locks. 
 
 ^' Well, I heard you was a noisy, disagreeable, figh in 
 characte;; alius a-kickin' up a row -ith somebody and for- 
 ever a-tormentin' of that nice young gentleman, Master Ranty 
 Lawless who is a brother of that little yeller gal over there 
 and worth a dozen like her 1 " said the little old woman, with 
 
 '''?' Wdl, upon my word, if that ain't polite not to say com- 
 plimentao-," said' Pet, drawing a long breath. Little 
 
 ^^^ W?n you^l^t S:;i know," said the old woman 
 who whatever her other infirmities might be, was certainly 
 not diaf. " You're rayther of the tawniest, as everybody 
 wha's^t eyes can see'for themselves. It's a pity you am 
 good-looking, like your brother ^nty ; I don t thmk I ever 
 «;tw 1 nrettier voung man nor he is, in my lite. 
 
 "why you Ltefui old thing! " burst out Pet indignantly ; 
 losing all her customary respect for old age m these unflatter- 
 injr remarks " I am'f tawny ; and I am pretty— I ]ust am ! 
 and I'm no ■ going to believe anybody that says anything 
 dse If you^and everybody else think I'm ugly, its aU your 
 bad tasted Ranty preitier than me! Likely story!" said 
 Pet, between contempt and indignation. 
 
 ' ' Well, look what a nice white skin he has 1 said the old 
 woman, with whom Master Ranty appeared to be an im- 
 mense favorite. ... , „ p„pi^,med 
 "White skin! bleached saffron, more like! excla^"^^d 
 Pet ; " if our Ranty's good-looking, I guess he keeps his 
 beJutv in his r>ocket: for nobody but you ever discovered it. 
 Humph l" ''Little yeller gal ! ' 1 vow, it's enough lo pro- 
 
MASTER RANTY. 
 
 135 
 
 , " 
 
 know, 
 
 It's any 
 
 shortly. 
 
 good of 
 •ox, and 
 
 y, laugh- 
 
 fightin' 
 and for- 
 er Ranty 
 er there, 
 nan, with 
 
 say com- 
 
 " ' Little 
 
 woman — 
 
 certainly 
 
 verj'body 
 
 you ain't 
 
 ik I ever 
 
 iignantly ; 
 
 unflatter- 
 
 just am ! 
 
 anything 
 
 's all your 
 
 ry ! " said 
 
 id the old 
 )e an im- 
 
 exclaimed 
 keeps his 
 :overed it. 
 ;h to pro- 
 
 voke a saint 1 " exclaimed Pet, in a higher key, at the re- 
 membrance of this insult. 
 
 •' May we ask the name of the lady who has favored us with 
 her company this morning ? " said Ray, at this point, bowing 
 to the old woman with most ceremonious politeness. 
 
 " Yes, you may, young man," said the old lady, with a 
 sharp asperity that seemed rather uncalled for ; " it's a name 
 I ain't never ashamed of, and that's more'n some folks can 
 say. I'm Goody Two-Shoes ; and if you don't like it you 
 may lump it." And the shrill falsetto rose an octave higher, 
 as she gave the snuff-box a furious tap on the lid. 
 
 " A mighty pretty name," remarked Pet. 
 
 " And we like it, exceedingly," said Ray ; " though, if we 
 didn't, what awful meaning lies hidden under the mysterious 
 phrase of " lumping it ' ? I confess, it passes my compre- 
 hension. Perhaps, my dear madam, you would lie good 
 enough to tianslate it from the original Greek, to which 
 language I should judge it belongs, and let us know its im- 
 port in the vulgar tongue, commonly called plain English." 
 
 " Young man 1 " exclaimed the beldame, facing -sharply 
 round, " I dare say you think it mighty amusing to keep 
 poking fun at me — which shows all the broughten up ever 
 you had, to go showing no respect to people what's in their 
 old ages of life. But if you think sich onchristian conduct " 
 —here the sharp voice rose to the shrillest possible treble — 
 " will go onpunished on this airth, or in the airth to come, 
 you're very much deceived, young man : let me tell yon 
 that 1 I have power, though you mayn't think so, and could 
 turn you into a cracked jug, or a mustard-pot, just as easy 
 as not." 
 
 " I wish to mercy you would, then, old Goody Two-Shoes I 
 Lor' I what a showy appearance you'd make, Ray, as a 
 mustard-pot I " said Pet, bursting into a fit of laughter. 
 
 "Why, my dear madam, I hadn't the slightest idea of 
 ' poking fun' at you, as you elegantly expressed it," said Ray, 
 looking deeply persecuted and patient ; " and as to being 
 turned into a cracked jug, or a mustard-pot, I think would 
 rather retain my present shape if it's all the same to you." 
 
 " Take care, then, how you rouse my wrath," said the old 
 woman, with a scowl, which was unfortunately lost in a suc- 
 cession of short, sharp sneezes, as her pinch of snuff went 
 
 ; I'l 
 
:3iva 
 
 M 
 
 ! 1 
 
 vi 
 
 136 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 the wrong way. " I'm a patient woman ; but 1 can't stand 
 everything. I'm used to be treated with respect. Where 1 
 came from, no such conduct was ever heerd tell on." 
 
 " It's a warm climate there— ain't it ? " msinuated Pet, 
 
 meekly. . t 1. j 1 
 
 " Humph 1 there's some inference m that, if a body onl> 
 could make it out," grunted the old woman ; "anyways, I 
 was always treated with respect thc-re, young 'oman ; which 
 I'd advise you to remember, for you need it." 
 
 " Now who would think the little demons would treat tlie 
 old one with respect? " said Pet, musingly, but in an ex- 
 ceedingly audible tone. " I never knew they were so po.ite 
 down there, before." , . „. , 
 
 " Young woman," began Goody, with kindling eyes, when 
 Pet interrupted her impatiently with : 
 
 " Look here, now 1 old Goody Two-Shoes, I ain t a young 
 woman, and I never intend to be ; and I'd thank you not to 
 keep calling me out of my name. I'm Miss Petronilla Law- 
 less, and if it's not too much trouble, I'd feel grateful to you 
 if you'd call me so. There 1 " 
 
 '' Good gracious ! Miss Pet, take care 1 whispered Mr. 
 Toosypegs, who, gray with terror, had been all this time 
 crouching out of sight, in a corner; "it's real dangerous to 
 rouse her ; she might bring the roof down about our heads, 
 and kill us all, if you angered her." 
 
 " Who is that young man ? " said the old woman, in an 
 appalling voice, as she slowly raised her finger, and pointed 
 it, like a pistol, at the trembling head of Mr. O. C. Toosypegs 
 .. I— I— I'm Orlando C. Toosypegs, I— I'm very much 
 obliged to you," stammered Mr. Toosypegs, dodging be- 
 hind Pet, in evident alarm. 
 
 " Young man, come over here," solemnly said the beldame, 
 keeping her long finger pointed, as if about to take aim, and 
 never removing her chain-lightning eyes from the pallid 
 physiognomy of the unhappy Mr. Toosypegs. 
 
 " Go, Horlander," said Pet, giving him an encouraging 
 push. " Bear it like a man ; which means, hold up your 
 head, and take your finger out of your mouth, like a good 
 boy. I'll stick to you to the last." .... 
 
 with cnauenng iccm, n^niumiii a-.i-.D:., .!r..,i!s..^ , --- 
 
 terror-stricken face, Mr Toosypegs found himself standing 
 
MASTER RANTY. 
 
 137 
 
 before the ancient sibyl, by dint of a series of pushes from 
 the encouraaring hand of Pet. 
 
 .'Young man, wouldst thou know the future ? " began the 
 old woman, in a deep, stern, impressive voice. 
 
 .. T i_I_l'm very much obliged to you, Mrs. Two 
 Shoes," replied poor^ Mr. Toosypegs. " It's real kind of 
 
 vou I'm sure, and — , ., . ^ i 
 
 ^ -Vain mortal, spare thy superfluous thanks," mterrupted 
 the mysterious one, with a wave of her hand, " Dark and 
 terrific is the doom Fate has in store for thee-a doom so 
 dreadful that dogs will cease to bark, the stars in the firma- 
 ment hold their breath, and even the poultry in the barnyard 
 tur-^ pale to hear it. Woe to thee, unhappy man! Better 
 for thee somebody else had a millstone tied round his neck 
 and were plunged into the middle of a frog-pond, than that 
 thou shouldst live to see that day." 
 
 '<Gooa gracious!" ejaculated the horror-stricken Mr. 
 Toosypegs, wiping the cold drops of perspiration off h.s 
 face, as the sibyl flourished her snuff-box in the air, as if in- 
 voking kindred spirits to come to her aid. 
 
 " Sublime peroration 1 " exclaimed Ray, laughing inwardly. 
 " Live to see what day?" inquired Pet, whose curiosity 
 was aroused. " The day he gets married, maybe. ^^ 
 
 " Awful will be the results that will follow that day, went 
 on the seeress, scowling darkly at the irreverent let 
 " Tremendous clouds will flash vividly through the sky, the 
 blinding thunder will show itself in all the colors of a dying 
 dolphin, and a severe rain-storm will probably be the resu t 
 On thyself, oh, unhappiest of mortals, terrific wiU be the 
 effects it will produce 1 These beautiful snuff-colored 
 freckles will shake to their very center ; these magnificent 
 whiskers, which, I perceive, in two or three places show 
 symptoms of sprouting, will wither away in dread, like the 
 grass which perisheth. This courageous form, brave as a 
 lion, which has never yet quailed before man or ghost, will 
 be rent in twain like a mountain in a gale of wind ; and an 
 attack of influenza in your great toe will mercifully put an 
 end to all your earthly agonies and troubles at once , Un- 
 happy mortal, go 1 Thou hast heard thy doom 
 
 A more wretched and woebegone face than Mr. Toosypegs 
 
 -. - . . . 1 1 n^ '^irthl" ev*" ever lell on 
 
 dispiayea, as ne luiucu luuiju, no ^.ari!.!^ cj?- 
 
nmk € 2 IV' 
 
 :aiwn 
 
 138 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 before. Ray had turned to the window in convulsions of 
 
 laughter. 
 
 '< I ain't well," said Mr. Toosypegs, mournfully, as he 
 took up his hat. " I've got a pain somewhere, and I gueps 
 I'll go home. Good-morning, Mrs. Two-Shoes. I'm very 
 much obliged to you, I'm sure." 
 
 And slowly and dejectedly Mr. Toosypegs crushed his hat 
 over his eyes, and turned his steps in the direction of Dismal 
 
 Hollow. , , , 
 
 " Poor Horlander 1 " said Pet ; " if he isn't scared out of 
 his wits, if he ever had any. Say, Goody, won't you tell 
 my fortune, too ? " 
 
 " Come hither, scoffer," said the sibyl, with solemn stern- 
 ness. " Appear, and learn the dark doom Destiny has in 
 store for thee. Fate, that rules the fortunes of men as well 
 as little yaller gals, will make you laugh on 'tother side of 
 your mouth, one of these days." 
 
 " Oh, Hamlet! what a falling off was there 1 " quoted Ray, 
 laughing. " What a short jump that was from the sublime I 
 Don't pile on th'^ agony too high, Mother Awful." 
 
 '« Peace, irreverent mortal I " said Goody Two-Shoes giv- 
 ing her snuff-box a solemn wave ; " peace, while I foretell 
 the future fate of this tawny little mortal before me 1 " 
 
 <' Well, if you ain't the politest old lady 1 " ejaculated Pet. 
 " But go on ; I don't mind being called ugly, now. I'm 
 getting used to it, and rather like it." 
 
 ' You'll never be drowned," began the sibyl, looking down 
 prophetically in Pet's little dark palm. 
 
 " Well, that's pleasant, anyway," said Pet. 
 
 " Because you were born to be hanged," went on the old 
 woman, unheeding the interruption. 
 
 " Whew ! " whistled Pet. 
 
 '< Your days are numbered — " ^^ _ 
 
 '« Well, I never saw a number on one of 'em yet," inter- 
 rupted the incorrigible Petro ^illa. 
 
 " Peace, scoffer 1 " exclaimed the beldame, fiercely. 
 *< The fate's disclose a speedy change in thy destiny." 
 
 « I expect they do," said Pet ; " for I'm going to be sent 
 
 to school soon." 
 
 " jjomc Uuik lurxui^ ij ><^ .s\-,H^ I". J — - t--- -o-»-, — 
 nothing can alleviate, a nameless secret misery—" 
 
MASTER RANTY. 
 
 139 
 
 if it is, I 
 
 u Perhaps it's the coUc," suggested Pet.^ 
 
 a tawny woman, with a dirty tace, 
 
 if Spanking then, all round." interrupted Pet. eagerly. 
 
 « U she isn't, It am '"'=•_•( t^j ,he ancient prophetess, 
 
 " W.U you be silent ? /°'^ "J/.f^,^ ;, ,he doom of those 
 vith incrcasmg sharpness 1-rrb.e ^^^_^^ 
 
 L'n7"u?s ^e-plaiMy're^^ear 'that if you travel .uch 
 
 ^°"^^^"P^^^:xr:^^yo.. he rich.- 
 
 llftl-'trs^bTl-rertoTe-irtheunhelieving 
 ^If Andt^ou don't d.e, youH, live to he pretty old." 
 
 ::L°rmt't'^;Si^nv^^^^^^^^^^^^ 
 
 mng^\%wayW's "-"i^t^toSdt th mpunU^"^ ' 
 but beware 1 I am not to be mocked w J ^^ ,^^.^^^ ^ 
 " Neither am 1," said Pet , so 1 m " S b , 
 
 word about them thirteen ''t,^"^'^^ f \th i I Sn't such 
 
 dozen, too ; as if twelve wasn t enough ! I o.r 1 
 
 a goose, Goody Two-Shoes. ,„nburned, unfortunate, 
 
 .-dtnTs'^d ^::^^:^^}^, - - h™r; 
 
 tt^co^e'^^eirSiembtrXy w^Ltold by Goody 
 
 Two-shoes." . , -o . ,< if T wasn't the patientest, 
 
 " Well, I declare I " said Pet. H 1 w^^" ' J" f ^.-.^^ 
 
 b ^mpered ^tle girl in MaryW, 1 -u^t'd '';:^ "e%e , 
 
 ::!d";rntTiniu;;d you oranybody else in its Ufe.- 
 

 imr 
 
 :qiivn 
 
 140 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 And Pet, with a deeply-wounded look, ran her finger along 
 the insulted proboscis, as if to sootlie its injured feelings, 
 
 " Will you tell my fortune. Mother Two-Shoes ? " said Ray, 
 turning round. " I am particularly anxious to know the 
 future." 
 
 "Well, you needn't be, then," said Goody, snappishly; 
 " for it has notiung good in store for a miserable scapegoat 
 like you. 1 won't tell it ; but I will tell that little gal's," 
 pointing to Erminie, who all the time had been quietly look- 
 ing on, not knowing whether to laugh or b«' afraid, and wholly 
 puzzled by it all. " She gave me some 'jreakfast ; and ' one 
 good turn deserves another,' as the liible says. Give me 
 your hand." 
 
 Afraid of offending the old lady, Erminie held it out. 
 
 " You'll be rather a nice-looking young woman, if you 
 don't grow up ugly," began the seeress, looking intently at 
 the little white palm that lay in hers like a lily-leaf ;" and 
 will have some sense, if not more, unless you get beside your- 
 self, as most young gals nowadays mostly do. It's likely 
 you'll be married to somebody, some time ; very likely the 
 first letter of his name will be Ranty Lawless, who, by that 
 time, will be one of the nicest young men you or anybody 
 else will ever see. If he makes you his wife — which is 
 a blessing you ought to pray for every day — don't forget to 
 learn to make slap-jacks and Johnny-cake, two things that 
 good youth is very fond of, as I am given to understand. 
 As he will probably be away up there among the big-wigs 
 in Congress every day, don't forget to give him your bless- 
 ing, and a paper of s. idwiches every morning before he 
 starts ; and meet him at night, when he returns, with a smile 
 on your lip, and a cup of tea in your hand. By following 
 these directions, an unclouded future will be yours, and you 
 will probably be translated, at last, in a cloud of fire and 
 brimstone, and your virtues inscribed on a pewter-plate, as an 
 example for all future generations." 
 
 " What an enviable fate, Erminie I " exclaimed Ray. 
 
 " Seems to me, old lady, our Ranty's a great bother to 
 you," said Pet, suspiciously, as she fixed her bright, search- 
 ing eyes keenly on her face. 
 
 " 1 always take an interest in nice youths," said the old 
 woman, rising and grasping her stick, preparatory to starting. 
 
 ■MWm^WMMiHM* 
 
•"•(idir'fwi 
 
 OUR ERMINIE. 
 
 141 
 
 u I guess I won't mind staying for dinner. HI call some, 
 
 ^'^fNot^^fat Goody Two-Shoes." exclaimed Ray, coolly 
 catclg tl.e old woman by the collar. " I've discovered 
 
 ^^VnVtfthe'ho^;o^?orE;rie,he grasped the cloak and 
 torf U off in spite of the vigorous struggles of the beldame. 
 Then fo owed the hat, and red handkerchief, and the vener- 
 airJ^y locks; and Erminie stifled a scream as she fancied 
 head md all was coming. The bushy ^ray eyebrows c^jme 
 oft'loo and the brigl', handsome, mischievous face of Mas- 
 ter Ranty Lawless stood revealed. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 OUR EUMINIE. 
 
 " A lovely being scarcely formed or moUled- ,, 
 A rose with all its sweetest leaves yet f^l^f^-j^^^^j^^ 
 
 « Well, I never ! " exclaimed Pet. . 
 
 " Whv, it's Rantv 1 " said the surprised Erminie. 
 .< Yes " said Ranty. giving his hat so well-aimed a kick 
 thatlt^truck the cat! ;md hurled that unfortunate ^uad^ 
 
 rgTe cf^tl^^roff^her back, f ithout ^^ r.^.^^ce^V^ 
 or the slightest veneration for gray hairs B> the wa>, 1 
 Isr ake^care of that wig. It belongs to Unce Harry, and 
 T ^tole it last night when he was in bed. What do you 
 think of my < get-Sp,' Ray ? 1 laid on the brown and black 
 
 "".'wlf your complexion would be improved by having 
 
 r ^ .UnA " n-nlied Rav. " However, it's very cred- 
 
 ^^hl and" shows ho v t^^ef v^Uy you can employ your time 
 
 when%ou'like Where, in the'n me of all the witches that 
 
 peai;;;^^ Wn-^^^^^ ^:t^-v^ 
 
 ent youtn, 1 ^01 n up ^ b i,^,,=em^id« to dress me. 
 
 and stuff, and 1 coaxea one ui the ....i.sem_ia_ .. 
 
 i 
 

 l£ilu. 
 
 .^i>tn 
 
 142 
 
 THK GYPvSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 . \ 
 
 I flatter myself I made a showy appearance when I entered 
 — eh ? Poor Orlando Toosypcgs I Unhook this confounded 
 frock, Pet." 
 
 " Well, now, to think I never knew you," said Pet, as she 
 obeyed. " I thought it might he a trick, but I never s«"i- 
 pected such a stupid thing as you could have done it." 
 
 " That's the way I Merit never is appreciated in this 
 world," said Ranty, as he stepped out of his rather dilapi- 
 dated g#-ment, " I expect nobody will find out what a 
 genius I am until it is too late. Darn the thing 1 I can't get 
 it off at all." 
 
 " Patience, Ranty I patience, and smoke jour pipe," said 
 R.iy, as he assisted him off with his dress, and Ranty stepped 
 out in his proper costume, and stood there, tall, human, 
 handsome, and as different from the old witch of a few mo- 
 ments before as it was possible to be. 
 
 '• Oh, Ranty 1 what a trick 1 " said Erminie, laughing. 
 '* It was a shame to frighten poor Mr. Toosypegs, though." 
 
 " He won't get much sympathy from Miss Priscilla, I 
 guess," said Ranty. " I do think he believed every word 
 of it." 
 
 " To be sure he did," said Ray ; ",and such an expressior* 
 of utter wretchedness as his face wore when he went out, I 
 never want to see again. It will be as good as a play to 
 see him when he goes home, and tells Miss Priscilla." 
 
 "I'm going there to spend the day," said Pet. "Miss 
 Priscilla can't bear me, so I go there as often as I can. I'll 
 be able to tell you all about it when I come back." 
 
 " You had better not," said Ray. " There are two or 
 three runaway niggers in the woods, and it's dangerous for 
 you to go alone." 
 
 " Now, you might have known that would just make that 
 intensely-disagreeable girl go," said Ranty, rocking himself 
 backward and forward in Erminie's chair. " Tell her there's 
 danger anywhere, and tliere i,he"ll be sure to fly^ The other 
 day, some one told her the typhus fever was down at the 
 quarters, and nothing would sjrveher butshe must instantly 
 make hci appearance there, t< - see what it was like. Luckily, 
 it turned out to be something else ; but if it had been the 
 fever, Nilla would have been a case by this time — and serve 
 her right, too. It's very distressing to a quiet, peaceable 
 
 
 ., I 
 
-■.-«*S(*ilS*«WWM*1*'ll'--' W«W«IW * 
 
 OUR KRMINIK. 
 
 143 
 
 individual like myself." said Master Rnnty P<^.'^- 'y>^ 
 n. his head on his hand with a deep s.gh. ^^"^ '^^J*- * 
 o\se in .ne exhorting her. she don t nunc ^'^ ^^^^ J^^ ;« 
 I've talked to her like a father ; I've preached to htr on tlic 
 ewt olher ways till all was blue , I've lectured her tune ami 
 ..in like a pocket-edition o\ Chryso.tom and look at he 
 rSultl I don't expect to live out half my days long of that 
 
 '^^l^Ma^:^ J^^n:; sS^r^;;:ply over the degeneracy of 
 
 the human race in ^^-^^f',^^'^^^^^^;^^^,^^, Nilla 
 
 •' Spoken like an oracle," cned Ray , !:> ut t"""»^ 
 won't take your advice. as a generalthmg. 1 hope she 11 take 
 
 ""'"no I won't! "was Miss Petronilla's short, simp and 
 decisive reply. " I won't take you nor your adv.ce, neither 
 n.? jus t going to Dismal HolloSv. and I'd hke to see who U 
 
 ''°?Why,'the half-starved n.ggers will." said ^-^^V}^^^^ 
 what's more, they'll swallow you, body and bones. -^^^^l^'J^ 
 out salt too which will be adding insult to mjury. I hey U 
 find ylu sharp and arid enough, though, if that's any conso- 
 
 ^'';°l"ndeed, Pet. I wouldn't go if I were you." said Erminie. 
 
 '"f/wetyou ain't me; so you needn't," said Pet. "But 
 I'm going ; and y- "-y ^^l ^alk till you are black m the 
 
 ^^rd^r:n^uUlf";ur^^ hat. and .ok h. .hip ar.d 
 
 cloves and looked defian..^ at the assembled trio. 
 ^TvVvteU; when you've departed 'hi' '■<""'' f"^'° 
 
 the p^^c-c ... disagreeable ^^^'^^ ^'e^plup a 
 wuiavou of your danger,' said Raity. >>e u p f 
 monument to your memory, with the inscription : 
 
 Sacred to the Memory 
 Of that sunburned, se\f-willea femaU N.mrod. 
 Pftronii.la Lawless, ^ 
 
 Who ought to lie here, but she doesn t. 
 For having lied all ihe time she afflicted this earth. 
 Now that she ha departed to a worker and. 
 She lies n the siomach of a great btg nigger 
 Who swallowed her at a mouthful one night. 
 ijf .;., h is the i^mgdom of Maryland. 
 
:3JWi 
 
 * '.. 
 
 I -i 
 
 144 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " You had better let me go with you," said Ray, 
 " No ; you sha'n't," said Pet, whose wilful nature was now 
 thoroughly aroused by opposition, and who fancied, if she 
 accepted this offer, they might think it was cowardice; " I'll 
 go myself. You ride with me, indeed ! Why, I'd leave you 
 out of sight in ten minutes." 
 
 Ray's dark cheek flushed, and he turned angrily away. 
 " Well, be sure to come home before dark — won't you, 
 Pet ? " said Erminie, following the capricious fairy to the 
 door. 
 
 " No, I sha'n't leave Dismal Hollow till nine o'clock," 
 said Pet, looking back defiantly at the boys. " I'm just go- 
 ing to show them that if two great boys, like they are, are 
 afraid, little Pet Lawless ain't. I'll ride through the woods 
 after dark, in spite of all the runaway niggers this side of 
 Baltimore." 
 
 "All right," said Ranty, "I'd rather they'd eat you, 
 though, than me ; for you're like the Starved Apothecary- 
 all skin and bones. They'll have hard crunching of it, I'll 
 be bound 1 Luckily, though, darkeys have good teeth 1 " 
 
 " Oh, Pet I what will you do, if the niggers should see 
 you ? " said Erminie, clasping her hands. 
 Pet touched her pistols significantly. 
 
 " Two years ago, Ranty taught me to shoot, you little pinch 
 of cotton-wool 1 and I haven't forgotten the way for want 
 of practice since, I can tell you. I can see by the light of 
 a nigger's eye, in the dark, how to take aim as well as any 
 one." 
 
 " You shoot ! " said Ranty, contemptuously . " you're noth- 
 ing but a little boaster and a coward at that ; all boasters 
 are. You'd fall into fits at the first glimpse of a woolly 
 head." 
 
 " I wouldn't 1 and I ain't a coward ! " cried Pet, stamping 
 her foot passionately, while her fierce black eyes seemed fairly 
 to scintillate sparks of fire. " 1 hate you, Ranty Lawless, and 
 I'll just do as I like, in spite of you all I " And flushed with 
 passion, Pet fled out, sprung on her fleet Arabian, as wild 
 and fiery as herself, and striking him fiercely with her whip, 
 he bounded away as if mad. Two minutes after and the 
 black, fiery horse and little, dark, fiery rider were both out 
 of sight. 
 
iiitstit'm'l 
 
 ..wwiwfci-.wwww';' 
 
 wjtlSiSipi?- 
 
 OUR ERMINIE. 
 
 M5 
 
 And looking deeply troubled and anxious, gentle little 
 Frminie returned to the house. 
 
 ^Whew what a little tempest 1 what a tornado I what a 
 hombsheU she is ! Now, who in the world but her would 
 fire up n that way for a 'trifle ? This getting up steam for 
 nolhhig Ts all a humbug! Girls always ^r. a humbug, 
 ?hou^h^ anyway," said the polite and gallant Mr. Law- 
 le^s'' Luckily^ there's one sensible individual m the 
 
 ^^■^'Yourself, I suppose," said Erminie, as she proceeded to 
 set the roon,' to rights, like the neat little housewife that she 
 
 ''''Yes," said Ranty ; " all the good sense and good looks 
 too of the family have fallen to my share, except what uncle 
 
 "^.^^^oJfSm tohrvf°agreat ideaof your own beauty," said 
 RayyturnTng from the window, where he had stood to hide 
 Ms mortification, ever since his rebuff from Pet. 
 ^"uTo be sure I have," said Master Ranty, stret<:hing out 
 his lees and glancing complacently in the mirror. "Nobody 
 can see my perfections but myself; so I lose no chance of 
 impressing U.em on the minds of the community in general 
 Z I s^y^, Ray, come out, down to the trout f reams I ve 
 ^ot a plan in my head that promises good un which 1 11 
 fell you while we're catching something for Minnie's dinner- 
 
 ^''^^ All right," said Ray, as he turned and went out with 
 him, Uttle^dr;aming how dearly he was destined to pay for 
 
 ^^u goJ' l" know they're going to torment somebody and 
 it's such'a shame," said Erminie to herself, as she took the 
 pocket-handkerch ef she was hemming, and sat down by the 
 'window " I guess it's the admiral ; RarUy's always plagu,ng 
 him when he's at home, and it s too bad ; cause tne au 
 n kal" the nicest old man ever was. My 1 I hope the n.,- 
 geJs wo?t catch Pet." she added, half-aloud, as her thought, 
 strayed to that self-willed young lady. 
 
 A shadow fell suddenly across the sunshine stream ng 
 through the open Joor ; and looking up, ^rmmie saw, to her 
 greatLprise; the tall, lank figure, and pallid freckles of Mr. 
 O. C. loobypegs. 
 
::;iiwn 
 
 146 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 rij 
 
 " Why, Mr. Toosypegs, I thought you had gone," she said, 
 in vv'onder. 
 
 " No, Miss Minnie, I ain't gone, I'm very much obliged 
 to you," said Mr. Toosypegs, mournfully, seating himself. 
 " I didn't like to go home ; for when Miss Prisciller ain't 
 well, she ain't always as pleasant as she might be, you know. 
 She means real well, I'm sure ; but then it's distressing some- 
 times to be always scolded. I ain't got long to live, either, 
 s'ou know," said Mr. Toosypegs, with increasing mourn 
 fulness ; " and there is no use in me suffering more than is 
 necessary — is there, Miss Minnie ? I always thought I was 
 to have troubles, but I never knew before they were to be 
 so dreadful. I intend going to Judestown right after dinner, 
 and having my will made out in case anything might— well, 
 might happen, you know. I'm going to leave half to Aunt 
 Prisciller, and t'other half to your grandmother. She's been 
 real good to me, and I'm very much obliged to her, I'm 
 sure," said Mr. Toosypegs, with emotion. 
 
 •' Why, Mr. Toosypegs, you ain't weeping about what that 
 old woman told you — are you ? " said Minnie, looking up 
 with her soft, tender, pitying eyes, as Mr. Toosypegs wiped 
 his eyes and blew his nose, with a look of deepest affliction. 
 " Why, it was only Ranty dressed up." 
 
 " Ranty 1 " said Mr. Toosypegs, springing to his feet. 
 
 " Yes : Ranty Lawless, you know, dressed up in old 
 clothes. He is always doing things like that, to make people 
 laugh. It wasn't any old woman at all — only him." 
 
 " Mr. Toosypegs took off his hat, which, all this time, had 
 been on his head ; looking helplessly into it, and, finding no 
 solution of the mystery there, clapped it on again, sat down, 
 and placing both hands on his knees, faced round, and 
 looked Erminie straight in the face. 
 
 " Miss Minnie, if it isn't too much trouble, would you say 
 that over again ? " inquired Mr. Toosypegs, blandly. 
 
 " Why, it isn't anything to say, Mr. Toosypegs," said 
 Minnie, laughing merrily ; " only Ranty, you know, wanted 
 to make us think him an old witch, and dressed himself up 
 that way, and made believe to tell your fortune. You needn't 
 be scared about it, at all." 
 
 "Well. I'm. sure!" ejaculated Mr. Toosypegs. "You 
 really can't think what a relief it is to my feelings to hear 
 
 ■ 
 
<. *i mwimw* «** 
 
 OUR ERMINIE. 
 
 147 
 
 that. Somehow, my feeling are always relieved when I m 
 with you, Miss Minnie. Young Mr. Lawless means real 
 well I'm sure, but then it kind of frightens a fellow a little. 
 I felt, Miss Minnie," said Mr. Toosypegs, placing his hand 
 on his left vest-pocket, " a sort of feeling that kept going m 
 and out here, like-like- anything. I felt as if I was headed 
 up in a hogshead, all full of spikes, with the points inward, 
 and then being rolled downhill. You've often felt that way, 
 I dare say, Miss Minnie ? "' ., , , ... -j 
 
 Minnie, a little alarmed at this terrible description, said 
 
 ^^' '' WeU,^ I keT'better now. I'm very much obliged to you," 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, drawing a deep breath of intense relief ; 
 '^d I guess I wSn't mind my will this afternoon ; though 
 I sha-n't forget Mrs. Ketura when I'm f ^"S- /^^^^'^^^^f^^^ 
 happen to survive me. How does she feel to-day, Miss 
 Minme ? Excuse me for not asking before ; but, really I've 
 been in such a state of mind all the morning that I actually 
 couldn't tell which end I was standing en, if I may be allowed 
 
 ^^SdmS'strll'a; she always is," replied Minnie. 
 .. She is able to sit up, but she can't walk, or come down- 
 stairs. She won't let me sit with her either, and always 
 says she wants to be alone." „ 
 
 '' 1 expect her son preys on her mind a good deal, said 
 Mr. Toosypegs, reflectively, , , „ 
 
 " He was drowned," said Erminie, in a low tone 
 « Yes I know ; she was real vexed with Lord De Courcy 
 about it,' too. I dare say you have heard her talk o him 
 
 "Yes," said Erminie, with a slight shudder; " I have 
 heird her tell Ray how he must hate him and all his family, 
 'rd do SI all tL harm he could. I don't Uke to hear 
 such things. They don't seem right. I heard Father Mur- 
 ay saying, last Sunday, in church, we must forgive our en- 
 emies,^r^;e won't be forgiven ourselves. always used o 
 come away, at first, when grandmother would begin to ta k 
 about hating them and being revenged ; ^ut her eyes used to 
 blaze up like, and she would seem so angry about it, that 
 a ?erward I stayed. I don't like to hear it though, and I 
 tu^y^lfy not t^ listen, but to think of something else all 
 
 the time." 
 
 I 
 
i^itmmwi' 
 
 :=]ivn 
 
 148 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW 
 
 
 •' I suppose young Germaine don't mind," o«trt.erirfe(! Mr. 
 
 Toosypegs. 
 
 « No. Ray gets fierce, and looks so dark and dreadtul 
 that I feel afraid of him then," said Erminie, sadly. " He 
 always says, when he is a man he will go to England and do 
 dreadful things to them all, because they killed his father. 
 I don't think they killed him; do you, Mr. Toosypegs? 
 They couldn't help his being drowned, I think." 
 
 " Well, you know. Miss Minnie," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 with the air of a man entering upon an abstruse subject, " if 
 they hadn't made him go on board that ship, and he hadn't 
 took anything else, and died, he would have been livmg yet. 
 He didn't care about going, but they insisted, so he went, 
 and the ship struck a— no, it wasn't a mermaid— the shfp 
 struck a coral reef— yes, that was it. The ship struck tha^ 
 and all hands were lost. Now, where the fault was, 1 can't 
 say, but it was somewhere, Miss Minnie 1 That's a clea\ 
 
 case." . • u u 
 
 And Mr. Toosypegs leaned back m his chair with th*j 
 complacent smile of a man who has explained the whok 
 matter, to the satisfaction of the very dullest intellect. 
 
 Little Minnie looked puzzled and wistful for a moment, as 
 if, notwithstanding all he had said, the affair was not much 
 clearer ; but she said nothing. 
 
 " You're his daughter— ain't you. Miss Minnie ? ' said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, briskly, after a short pause. 
 " Whose, Mr. Toosypegs ? " asked Minnie. 
 " Why, him, you know : him that was drowned." 
 " No, I guess not," said Erminie, thoughtfully ; " Ray 
 called me his little sister, one day, before grandmother, and 
 she told him to hush, that I wasn't his sister. I guess I'm 
 his cousin, or something; but I don't think I'm his sister." 
 
 " Your father and mother are dead, I reckon," said Mr. 
 Toosypegs. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so ; but I dare say you'll laugh, Mr. 
 Toosvpegs. but it never seems so. I dream sometimes of the 
 strangest things." And Erminie's soft violet eyes grew 
 misty*'and dreamy as she spoke, as though gazing on some- 
 thing afar off. ^. . ^ 
 *" Good gracious I what do you dream, Mias Mmnie ; i m 
 

 1 
 
 OUR ERMINIE. 
 
 149 
 
 as 
 
 I'm 
 
 sure T haven't the least notion of laughing at all. I feel 
 serious as anything, said Mr. Toosypegs, in a 1 sincerity. 
 
 But Erminie, child as she was, shrunk from telling any one 
 of the sweet, beautiful face of the lady who came to her so 
 often in her dreams ; and so, blushing slightly, she bent over 
 her work in silence. , 
 
 « Doesn't young Germaine know who your father and 
 irotherwere?'' asked Mr. Toosypegs, after a while, seeing 
 Erminie was not going to tell him about ^^^r d'-eams 
 
 <' No Ray doesn't know, either. Grandmother won t tell, 
 but he thinks I'm hio cousin ; I guess I am, too, said Er- 
 minie, adopting the belief with the careless confidence of 
 
 '^'.1 Wellfyou were born in England, anyway/' said Mr Too- 
 svpegs, "for you were only a little baby, the size of tha 
 when you left it," holding his hand about an inch and a half 
 above the floor. " Most likely you're a gipsy, though-./^^ s 
 a gipsy, you know," added Mr. Toosypegs, in a rnystenous 
 whisper, pointing to the ceiling. 
 
 <' Yes I knows" said Ermiuie, with an intelligent nod ; I 
 heard her tell Ray so ; she used to tell him a goo^ "^^"X 
 thTngs but she never tells me anything. I guess she thmks 
 I don'i love her, but 1 do. Did you ever see that Lord De 
 
 ^°"No!'but I saw his son. Lord ViUiers, and his wife. Lady 
 Maude. My gracious I " exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, with an 
 unexpected outburst of enthusiasm, " she was the handsomest 
 woman in the world I I can't begin to tell you b ^w good- 
 Lking she was 1 If all the handsome women ever you saw 
 w.?e meltedlto one, they wouldn't be near so good-looking 
 
 "..nt ^"h'ould like to see her 1 " said little Erminie 
 laying down her work with a wistful sigh. ' lell me about 
 
 ^'''wdl,'^shrhrd^fo^^^ ^/.'.\^''u' ^°" 
 
 know, but long and soft; and the most splendid black eyes 
 -bright straight through a fellow, easy 1 She was pale 
 and swfef 1 always used to think of white cream-candy 
 wi™ Isaw her^Iiss Minnie; and then her smile^i^ 
 ,.,-, 1.... v.u^ op on,r*>l's— not that I ever saw an angel, Miss 
 
TOTf 
 
 ::3iwn 
 
 150 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 Minnie," said Mr. Toosypegs, qualifying his admission, 
 reluctantly, "but they must have looked like her." 
 
 Erminie had listened to this description with clasped 
 hands, flushed cheeks, parted lips and dilating eyes. As 
 Mr. Toosypegs paused, she impetuously exclaimed : 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Toosypegs, I've seen her! I've seen her 
 often 1 " 
 
 " Good gracious I " said the astonished Mr. Toosypegs, "I 
 can't see where; 1 guess you only think so, Miss Minnie." 
 
 " Oh, no, I don't ; indeed I don't ; I know I have seen 
 her. That lovely lady with the beautiful smile, and soft 
 black eyes. Oh, I know; I've seen her, Mr. Toosypegs," 
 
 «' Land of hope 1 where. Miss Minnie ? " 
 
 But Minnie had recovered from her sudden joy and sur- 
 prise at hearing of the resemblance between this beautiful 
 lady and the lovely vision of her dreams, and pausing now, 
 she blushed, and said ; 
 
 " Please don't ask me, Mr. Toosypegs; yo.: would think 
 me silly, I guess. I must go and help Lucy to get dinner 
 now. You'll stay for dinner — won't you, Mr. Toosypegs ? '' 
 
 " Thank you, Miss Minnie," said the gratified Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, " I certainly will, with a great deal of pleasure ; I'm 
 very much obliged to you." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 
 pet's peril. 
 
 " Who '■ " express the horror of that night, 
 
 W; darkness lent his robes to monster fear? 
 And , iven's black mantle, batiishing the light, 
 Made everj-thing in ugly fonn appear."' 
 
 Miss Petronilla Lawless having, as Ranty would have 
 expressed it, got the steam up to a high pressure, thundered 
 over the heath, entered the forest road, and looked with eyes 
 sparkling with defiance at the dark, gloomy pine woods on 
 either hand. The brio-ht moi'nine: sunshine, fallinsx in a 
 radiant shower through the waving boughs of the pines. 
 
i^juw^^fl^M ^^*""^^^ 
 
 PET'S PERIL. 
 
 '51 
 
 her 
 'I 
 
 ? '■ 
 
 irilded the crimson glow on her thin cheeks and hps, and 
 b uuoht fiery circlets of flame through all her short, cnsp, 
 
 ettv'curls. Darkly beautiful looked the little w. ful e f. as 
 ihe slackened her pace through the narrow sylvan forest 
 path, as if to give any hidden enemy, if such lurked there, a 
 
 uU opportunity of making his appearance. None came, 
 nowever ; and twenty minutes brought her in sight of the 
 gloomy gorge in the cleft mountain, so appropriately named 
 
 ^ pa slackened the mad pace at which she had started still 
 more, and loosening her bridle-reins, allowed her sure-footed 
 pony, Starlight, to choose his own way down the narrow, 
 unsafe bridle-path. . , 
 
 As she approached the house, she ran her eye, with a 
 critical look, over it, and muttering, " Miss Pnscilla s been 
 making improvements," prepared to alight. 
 
 \ great change for the better, too, had taken place in the 
 appearance of Dismal Hollow, since the advent of Miss 
 PrisciUa. The great pools of green slimy water were no 
 [onger co be seen before the door ; the receptacles for mud 
 and filth had vanished, as if by magic. A clean, dry plat- 
 form spread out where these had once been ; the windows 
 were no longer stuffed full of rags and old hats, but with 
 glass panes, that fairly glittered with cleanliness ; broken 
 fences were put up, outhouses were repaired, and the whole 
 house had evidently undergone a severe course of regenera- 
 tion Inside, the improvements were still more remarkable. 
 Everv' room had undergone a vigc -ous course of scrubbing, 
 washing, papering, and plastering, ind the doors and win- 
 dows had^^een closed, and hermetically sealed, and no 
 sacrilegious foot was ever permitted to enter and " muss up 
 as Miss PrisciUa expressed it, those cherished apartments 
 wherein her soul delighted. The only rooms m the old 
 house which she permitted to be profaned by use were a 
 couple of sleeping apartments, a little sitting-room, and the 
 kitchen. The servants, for so long a time accustomed o do 
 as they liked, and lazy about as they pleased, were struck 
 with dismay at Miss Priscilla's appalling vigor and neatness 
 That worthy lady declared it was not only a ^h^J"^^'.^^"^ f 
 .in. to be eaten out of house and home by a parcel of shit- 
 less niggers ; " and one of her very first acts was lo mrchalt 
 
taiwn 
 
 152 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 1 :i 
 
 of them out to any one who would employ them. The re- 
 mxinder were then informed, in very short terms, that if they 
 did not mind thei'- P's and Q's, they'd be " sold to Georgy " 
 — a threat su.T.-ient to terrify them into neatness and order 
 sufficient even to satisfy " Miss 'Silly," as they called her. 
 
 On this particular morning, Miss Priscilla sat up in her 
 sitting-room — a little, stiff, square, prim, upright and down- 
 right sort of an apartment, with no foolery in the shape of 
 little feminine nicknacks or ornaments about it, but every- 
 thing as distressingly clean as it was possible to be. Miss 
 Priscilla herself, radiant in a scanty, fady calico gown, reach- 
 ing to her ankles, a skimpy black silk apron, and a stiff, 
 solemn, grim-looking mob cap, was ensconced in a rocking- 
 chair, that kept up an awful " screechy-scrawchy," as she 
 rocked backward and forward, knitting away as if her life 
 depended on it. Very hard, and grim, and sour looked 
 Miss Priscilla, as she sat there with her sharp, cankerous 
 lips so tightly shut that they reminded one of a vise, and 
 her long, bony nose running out everlastingly into the thin 
 regions of space. 
 
 The sharp clatter of horse's hoofs arrested her attention, 
 and she turned and looked sharply out of the window. The 
 sour scowl deepened on her vinegar phiz, as she perceived 
 Pet in the act of alighting. 
 
 " That sharp little wiper of a Lawless girl," muttered Miss 
 Priscilla, " coming here, with a happetite that's hawful to 
 contemplate, when she's not wanted ; turning heverything 
 topsy-turvy, not to speak of that there pigeon-pie what's for 
 dinner being honly henough for one. Wah I wah ! " 
 
 And with a look that seemed the very essence of distilled 
 vengeance, and everything else sour, sharp and cankerous, 
 Miss Priscilla went to the head of the stairs and called : 
 
 " Kupy 1 Kupy 1 " (her abbreviation of Cupid), "go and 
 hopen the door for that Lawless girl, which is come, and 
 bring her pony hinto the barn, and show her hup 'ere; hand 
 don't mind a-givin' hof her hany boats. Be quick there 1 " 
 
 As Miss Priscilla, who looked with contempt upon bells as 
 a useless superfluity, had a remarkably shrill, ear-splitting 
 voice of her own, the order to be quick seemed quite unnec- 
 essary ; for Cupid, clapping his hand over his bruised and 
 wounded ear-drums, hastened to the door as rapidly as. 
 
 c 
 tl 
 
 tl 
 .1 
 s 
 c 
 I: 
 c 
 r 
 
PET'S PERIL. 
 
 153 
 
 
 >g 
 
 possible, in order to get rid of the noise. Then Miss Pns- 
 cilla walked back to her chair, and deposited her bony form 
 ^l^^.rein— determining, with a sort of sour grimness, to make 
 the l^est of a bad bargain. Not that Miss Priscilla thought 
 anything of the courtesies of hospitality. She was above 
 such weakness. But Pet Lawless was the daughter of one 
 of the richest and most influential men in the State— would 
 he a great heiress and fine lady some day ; and Miss Pris- 
 cilia being only flesh and blood, like the rest of us, could 
 no^ help feeling a deep veneration for wealth. Personally, 
 she disliked our mad little whirligig more than anybody else 
 she knew. But money, like charity, covereth a multitude 
 of sins • and as Miss Pet would inherit half a million some 
 day, Miss Priscilla Toosypegs, looking into the womb of 
 futurity, was disposed to forgive her now the awful crime of 
 " mussing up " her immaculate rooms, in the hope of a sub- 
 stantial return when the little madcap entered upon her fort- 
 Pet having by this time alighted, ran up the steps, and, 
 with the end of her riding whip, knocked so vociferously that 
 she awoke everj slumbering echo in the quiet old house. 
 
 Cupid, half-deafened between the piercing voice of Miss 
 Priscilla within, and the vigorous clamor without, threw open 
 the door; and Pet, with her ridinghabit gathered up in one 
 hand, and flourishing her whip in the other, stood there, 
 bright, and sparkling, and fresh as a mountain-daisy before 
 
 ^^"Well, Cupe how are you these times ? Eh ? Miss Pris- 
 cilla at home ? " . „ 
 
 " Yes, Miss Pet. Miss Silly tole me to tell you you was 
 
 to walk right up," said Cupid. . , . , , 
 
 " Very well. Take Starlight, and give him a good rub- 
 bing, and then plenty of oats and water. He's had a hard 
 gallop of it this morning-poor fellow!" said Pet, as she 
 passed Cupid, and ran up-stairs. "Now to face the old 
 dragon ! " she muttered, as, puckering up her rosy mouth m 
 a fruitless attempt to whistle, she swaggered into the pres- 
 ence of the dread spinster, with her usual springing, jaunty 
 
 Air 
 
 " She hates me, and she hates kisses," said Pet, mentally ; 
 
 " SO i U kiss ncr, ii X UiC in mu an.--iS.iK - : -XS-- ■ -- o- 
 
:ai%in 
 
 ,54 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ancel verdigris 1 vitriol, and vinegar 1 I'd as lief swallow 
 a dose of sourkrout, and have done with it. It's going 
 
 to be awful, I know ; but I'll do it 1 " 
 
 •• Morning, Miss Pet," said Miss PrisciUa, looking grimly 
 
 <«0h, Miss Priscilla, how do you do 1 Oh, Miss Pris- 
 ciUa 1 'I'm so glad to see you again I " ,. , ,• 1 • 
 
 And before Miss Priscilla dreamed of her diabolical in- 
 tention, the elf had sprung forward, clutched her by the 
 throat, and clung to her like a clawfish, while half a dozen 
 short, sharp kisses went off like so many pop guns on the 
 withered cheek of the luckless old maid. 
 
 With no gentle hand, Miss Pri.cilla caught the monkey 
 by the shoulder, and hurled her from her with a violence 
 that sent her spinning like a top across the room. 
 
 " It's all very well for people to be glad to see people, 
 which is honly uman nature," began Miss Priscilla, in a 
 high, shrill falsetto, while she adjusted her dislocated mob- 
 cap- "but that hain't no reason why people must ave the 
 clothes tore hof=f their back by people, just because they re 
 glad to see them— which is something I never was used to, 
 Miss Pet ; and though hit may be the fashion hin this ere 
 country, hit's something I don't happrove of hat all, Miss 
 Pet Now, you'll hexcuse me for saying I would rather you 
 wouldn't do so no more— which is disagreeable to the feel- 
 ings, not to speak of mussing up people's caps as is some 
 bother to hiron ; though you mayn't think so. Miss Pet. 
 
 And having delivered herself of this brilliant and highly- 
 grammatical oration, and thereby relieved her mmd, Miss 
 Priscilla picked up a stitch in her knitting, which, in the ex- 
 citement of the moment, she had dropped 
 
 " Why, Miss Priscilla, I'm sorry ; I'm sure I didn t mean 
 to make you mad," said Pet, in a penitent tone. "But I 
 was so glad to see you, you know, I couldn't help it. Where s 
 
 Orlando?" . , ^ , . . 1 i 
 
 " Hat them there Barrens, which is the desolatest place 1 
 hever seen," said Miss Priscilla ; « hall weeds ; and there 
 you'll find him, with nothing growing but nasty grass hall 
 halong hof that there hold gipsy woman and little gal, stead 
 
 hof stavin.f^ at ome, 
 
 hand 'tending to his 'fairs, as a respect- 
 
 able member hof s'ciety bought for to do; heaving away 
 
 his 
 
)«»*«»*»*.•■ 
 
 PET'S PERIL. 
 
 155 
 
 money, with me slavin' hand to.lm' from week s hend o 
 week's hend, smoking hof nasty cigars as spiles he t«th 
 and luindermines the hintellecks; ^.hlch was something s 
 blessed father (now a hangel hup there in the gravey.ird 
 never did ; and shows 'ow youth is u degeneratin . Wah I 
 wah!" said Miss Priscilla, concluding with her usual gnm- 
 
 ^^^Jur^'i:^Pri^illa.rve often had to talk to our 
 Ranty about it, to<V' said Pet, gravely ;" but these boys 
 are all a nasty set, you know, and don't mind us gir s at al . 
 rve come to \tay all day, Miss Priscilla " And Pet tocM. 
 off her hat and gloves as she spoke. " I thought you migh 
 be lonesome, and knew you'd be glad to have me here ; and 
 I don't really know of any place I like to be so well as I do 
 
 to be here ! " . , . r 1 cu u« ..,-,0 
 
 All the time Pet had been uttering this awful fib, she was 
 takinjr of! her things, and pitching them about in a way that 
 mad^Miss Priscilla gasp with horror. Her hat was thrown 
 into one corner, her gloves into ^"°J»^^'^',,»^^er^whip in o 
 a third, and her pocket-handkerchief, collar and brooch 
 nnvwhere thev cho^e to fall. 
 
 ?. You needn't go putting yourself out about dinner. Miss 
 Priscilla," said Pet, who well knew the spm.ter s parsimoni- 
 ou ne s n this respect, and thought she would just give her a 
 hUit " Anything will do for me-.i broiled chicken, with a 
 minie pie and some grapes ; or some nice mutton chops, 
 fried lii butter, with a lice-pudding, or a cu.tard-anything. 
 voii know But don't put yourself out 1 " 
 ^^ don't hintend to," said Miss Priscilla, knitting away 
 crimlv. " I never do put myself hout for hanybody ; wouldn t 
 for the President hof the United States or the King ho 
 Hingland-no, not hif he was to come hall the way fiom 
 Lunnon hon his two blessed bare knees to hask h. hof me 
 has a favor. Hand hif you'd pick up them there clothes of 
 your'n. Miss Pet, which his hall pitched habout, hand gives 
 he room a' huntidy look, and put them hon the table hand 
 call to Haunt Bob to carry them hup-stairs, I'd feel heasier 
 
 '"^Sluetthlm layl" said Pet, indifferently. " They're 
 old things ; and I ain't particular about them. I guess the 
 floor won't dirty them much 1 " 
 
156 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ••My floor's clean, Miss Pet, I'd have you for to know, 
 hand wouldn't dirty hanybody's things 1 " answered Miss 
 Priscilla, sharply, and with flashing eyes; "but them there 
 things hof your'n musses hit hup, which his somethmg I 
 ■lever likes my room to be, being neat myself, a-slavin'. and 
 toilin', and strivin' to keep things to rights from mornmg 
 till night, with people a-pitchin' hof things round huntil hit 
 looks Hke a 'og-stye. VVah ! wah 1 " 
 
 And Miss Priscilla got up and picked up all Pet s gar- 
 ments, and carricKl them up to her own bedroom, out of the 
 
 way. , • 1 • f 
 
 And then Pet, with her diabolical spirit of mischief up- 
 periiK^^t, went flying through the house, opening, shutting, 
 slamming and banging the doors, in a way that drove the 
 peace loving spinster to the verge of madness, and made 
 her sour temper ten degrees sourer, until her very look 
 would have turned treacle to vinegar. In and out, up and 
 down stairs, getting astride of the bannisters and sliding 
 down, at the imminent danger of breaking her neck, ran- 
 sacking every room, and turning everything topsy-turvy and 
 upside-down, and 'mussing things" generally, until Miss 
 Priscilla Toosypegs '^ vowed a \ a- " in her secret heart that 
 the next time she saw Miss Petronilla Lawless coming, she 
 would loc k every door in the house, and send Cupid out 
 witii his " biunderingbuss " to shoot her, rather than let her 
 ever darken her do(jrs again. 
 
 Dinner at length was announced, and Miss Priscilla be- 
 <Mn to breathe freely again, in the hope of at least a few 
 moments, respite from her tormentor. As Pet entered the 
 sitting-room— for Miss Toosypegs dined in her sitting-room 
 —her thin, dark, bright face all aglow with fun and frolic ; 
 her black eyes dancing and sparkling with insufferable light ; 
 her short, crisp, black curls all tangled and damp over her 
 shoulders and round, polished, saucy, boyish forehead, she 
 looked the very embodiment, the very incarnate spirit of 
 mischief and mirth. She looked like a little grenade, all 
 jets r.nd sparkles—a little barrel of gunpowder, at any mo- 
 ment ready to e.vplode— a wild, untamed little animal, very 
 beautiful, but very dangerous. 
 
 And there, at the head of the table, the greatest contrast 
 
 'lat could well be 
 
 o her dark, bri^ 
 
 LU 
 
 fierv little neighboi 
 
PET'S PERIL. 
 
 »57 
 
 found, sat Miss Toosypegs, as pr^m. stiff and ^V^^^^ /^ 
 she had swallowed a ramrod-as sour, sharp and .ud as ,f 
 she hud been spoon-fed on verj. ce from mfancy upward 
 
 Pel's eyes went dancing over the table to examine the 
 bil of fare. Now, reader, our Pet was not a gourmand, nor 
 ya an l:^:^u.e, by'any means-what she got to cat ^^ 
 little trouble to her, indeed ; but she knew Miss Prr-clla 
 " intent'y miscrl '. and. having plenty, ^l^^-^^.^^^^ 
 ruhuleaton at her boa. 1 'i'^^r^-'fore the walked httle 
 elf detcrmi,.ed to give her a slight idea of what she couU. 
 fin in the eatintr-line when provoked to it. 
 '^BtaUf little was there on that table to P-voke he ap- 
 Detite Two cups of pale, sickly-lookmg tea, a plate >Mth 
 Four smaC dropsical-looking potatoes, a <— Ptwe re^" 
 herring. and, by way of dessert, a p.geon-pie. Ihat -.as 
 
 ^^^Pet's face fell to a formidable length for an instant ; the 
 next a S iclea strv;ck her, and she inwardly excla.n.cn. 
 as^;c sa%iss Priscilla's eyes rest lovingly on the p.g'XM> 
 
 ^''' Pet hikl, vo. 'U be starved, you know, if you don't k.ok 
 
 out bef)' you ^-.t home. It's your duty to show Miss 
 
 t^XX:i si;, owes to her quests ; so you wak^.^ 
 
 into that p. or.pie, and eat every morsel of it, though you 
 
 ''^t'1wr!,"Mi.. Pet;- said Miss Priscilb solemnly, 
 pointing to her chair, and holding her knife and fork threat> 
 ?n nLlv over the ghostly-looking red-hernng, " for wha we 
 r^out to receive. Which dt you like best, the 'ead or 
 
 vigorously cutting it up. Priscilla " 
 
 '' 1 always make myselt at home here Miss ^"sciiia 
 
 ..ir/pet soeakinti with her mouth full. " I know you am t 
 
 otlofdXts^nd nobody has such nice pi^eonP,-^- 
 
 von hive You made t on purpose for me—Uicin t you . i 
 
 L^d rnot\o put you..,f t^^,an>--„t Mis^'' pSS ' 
 but you would, you know. It s real nice, mis^ 
 
»f^>f 
 
 TWff 
 
 ::9tMn 
 
 158 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 and I'd ask you to have some, only I know you don't care 
 
 about it." 
 
 And all this time Pet had been crunching away, half 
 choking herself in her haste. 
 
 And Miss Priscilla 1 What pen shall describe her feel- 
 ings when she saw that cherished pigeon-pie— the making 
 of which she had been deliberating about for a week before 
 
 that pigeon-pie, which had been uppermost in her mind 
 
 all morning, vanishing before her eyes with such frightful 
 rapidity ? The English language is weak, is utterly power- 
 less to describe how she felt. There she sat, as if turned 
 to stone, her knife and fork still poised over the herring, 
 speechless with horror and amazement, her eyes frozen to 
 the face of Pet, while still her cherished pigeon-pie kept dis- 
 appearing like mist before the morning sun. 
 
 " Do take your dinner, Miss Priscilla. \\'hy, you ain't eat- 
 ing anything, hardly," said the wicked little wretch, as her 
 fork went up and down from her plate to her mouth with 
 the nearest approach to perpetual motion the horrihed spin- 
 ster had ever seen. "Just see how I'm getting along. 
 This pie is really beautiful, Miss Priscilla. Oh, I love 
 pigeon-pie; and only I know you'd rather see me eat it, I'd 
 make you have a piece. There! I've finished 1 " said Pet, 
 pushing aside the empty plate, and leaning back in her chair 
 in a state almost " too full for utterance." " Oh, that 
 pigeon-pie was — was— actually divine I It just was, Miss 
 Priscilla; and I'd come to see you every day if you'd only 
 make me one like that." 
 
 Without a word, but with a look that might have turned 
 scarlet any face less hard than that of the wicked little elf, 
 Miss Priscilla began her dinner. Nothing daunted. Pet sat 
 and talked away unceasingly ; but never a word came from 
 the penknife-lips of Miss Priscilla Toosypegs. Then, when 
 the slender repast was over, Aunt Bob was called up from 
 the lower regions to clear away the service ; and Pet sat in 
 her chair, feeling it inconvenient to do anything but talk, 
 just then ; and talk she did, with a right good will, for two 
 mortal hours ; and still Miss Priscilla sat knitting and knit- 
 ting away, and speaking never a word. 
 
 " The cress, cantankerous, sharp-nosed old thing 1 " mut- 
 tered Pe*^ at last, gelling tired of this unprofitable occupa- 
 
,mfS*^^--<'*"T-' 
 
 care 
 
 PET'S PERIL. 
 
 159 
 
 tion. "The stingy old miser ! to sit there sulking because 
 I ate the only thing fit to eat on the table. 1 declare I if 1 
 haven't a good mind to come every day and do the same, 
 just for her ugliness 1 Oh, yaw-w-w ! how sleepy I am . I 
 guess I've done all the mischief I can do, just now, so I 
 ao to sleep. I'd go home, only I said I wouldn t go till 
 dark and I won't, either 1 So, now. Pet, child, you drop 
 into 'the 'arms of Murphy,' as Ranty says, as fast as you 
 
 ' And curling herself up in her chair, with her head pil- 
 lowed on her arm, Pet, in five minutes, was sound asleep. 
 
 From her slumbers she was awoke by a vigorous shake, 
 given by no gentle hand. Pet started up, rubbed her eyes, 
 tnd beheld Miss PrisciUa, by the light of a lamp she car- 
 ried, bending over her. . 
 
 " I'm a-going to bed, Miss Lawicss," said Miss Pnscilla. 
 grimly ; " hand hunless you intends staying all night— 
 which! shouldn't be hany surprised at hif you was-hit s 
 time vou was a-going 'ome." . , „ . • * u 
 
 « Why, how late is it ? " e laimed Pet, jumping to her 
 
 feet 
 
 "Height o'clock, hand as dark as a wolf's mouth, hat 
 
 iL J. >> 
 
 " My stars 1 And isn't tea ready yet. Miss Priscilla ? " 
 " I've 'ad my tea a' hour ago," said Miss Pnscilla, with a 
 grim sort of smile. "You was so sound hasleep I didn't 
 care about wakening hof you, not to speak hof aveing heat 
 so much for your dinner, I didn't think you'd care for hany 
 tea. 'Ere's your things. Miss Pet, and your oss is at the 
 door ; but you can stay hall night, hif you like." 
 
 "I won't stay ail night 1 I'll never come here again— 
 yes I will too 1 Fll come every single day— see if I don t, 
 exclaimed Pet, bouncing across the room, and giving her 
 hat a slap on her head. " I know you don't want me and 
 I'll just come ! If you was to our house, do you think I d 
 pack vou oflE without any tea ? No, I wouldn t if I had to 
 boil the tea-leaves we used the last time for it ! It just shows 
 the sor^ of f^lk«; Englishers are. and I wish there wasn t one 
 
:3ii%fn 
 
 i6o THE GYPSY QUEENS VOW. 
 
 in the world-I just do ; and I don't care who hears me 
 savin- it I'm a-going. Miss Priscilia, and I vow to Sam ! 
 I'll be back to-morrow, and the next day, and the next— see 
 
 it I don't ! " ,«••,•!♦ 
 
 \nd while scolding furiously, and flingmg things about 
 in .1 manner perfectly awful to so neat a housekeeper as the 
 •,ricit spinster, Miss Petronilla had managed to dress hcr- 
 '.; It and descend the stairs, while Miss Priscilia, grim as a 
 cist-iron statue, stood at the head, hMmg the light. 1 et 
 i-lounced out of the hall, giving the door a terrihc bang be- 
 hind her, and stepped out into the night. 
 
 liy the light that streamed from the glass top of the door. 
 Pet saw Cupid holding her pony. Springing lightly on his 
 back, she gathered up the reins, and paused a moment before 
 
 starting to look around. xt . u u 
 
 The night was pitch dark, still, and sultry. Not a breath 
 of air moved, not a leaf rustled ; but from the inky pall of 
 deepest gloom overhead, short, fitful flashes of lighLning at 
 intervals blazed. A storm was at hand, and would soon 
 
 burst. ... ,, J /^ • I 
 
 " For de Lor's sake 1 hurry. Miss Petronilla, said Cupid, 
 in a frightened whisper. " Bar's de awfulest storm a-comin 
 to-night you ever see'd. Miss 'Silly oughtn't 'lowed you to 
 eo froo de woods to-night." 
 
 "Miss 'Silly, indeed 1 I guess she hopes I may only get 
 my neck broke before I get home," said Pet, shortly as she 
 turned her pony's head in the direction of the bridle-path 
 
 leading through the gorge. , , a ,u. 
 
 The sure-footed steed, left to himself, securely trod the 
 narrow path, and entered, at last, upon the forest road. 
 Having nothing else to do. Pet began ruminating. 
 
 "If that ain't what I call mean 1 " she indignantly mut- 
 tered- " sending me off like an Arab, without anything to 
 eat. The hateful, stingy old thing 1 I like that soft green, 
 good-natured Orlando, but I can't bear her. 'Sh-h-h 1 softly. 
 Starlight, my boy 1 there's niggers in these woods, you know, 
 who wouldn't mind chawing you and me nght up. 
 
 Even while she spoke, a hand graspec aer bndle-rein, and 
 a deep, stern voice cried : 
 
 H Stop 1 " , 1. , • 
 
 At the same moment there came a vivid flash of lightning, 
 
lars me 
 
 Sam ! 
 xt — see 
 
 s about 
 r as the 
 ess hcr- 
 rn as a 
 It. Pet 
 )ang be- 
 
 le door, 
 
 on his 
 
 it before 
 
 a breath 
 J pall of 
 ming at 
 lid soon 
 
 i Cupid, 
 a-comin' 
 
 1 you to 
 
 only get 
 J, as she 
 idle-path 
 
 trod the 
 est road. 
 
 itly mut- 
 y'thing to 
 ft, green, 
 \ 1 softly, 
 ,^ou know, 
 
 !-rein, and 
 
 PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. i6i 
 
 and Pet beheld, for a second, the face of a negro black as a 
 demon. The next instant all was deepest darkness again. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. 
 
 « Thinkest thou there dwells no courage but in breasts 
 That set their mail against the ringing spears 
 When helmets are struck down ? Thou little knowest 
 Of nature's marvels."— Mrs. Hk.mans. 
 
 Miss Petronilla Lawless was an exceedingly precocious, 
 an exceedingly courageous, and an exceedingly self-possessed 
 young lady, as our readers are aware, yet now her brave 
 heart for one moment seemed to die within her, and a ter- 
 rified shriek arose and was barely suppressed on her lips. 
 The hour, the scene, the darkness, the danger, might have 
 made an older and stronger person quail. Alone in the 
 woods, where no scream for help could be heard, with the 
 gloom of Hades all around, save when the blue blaze of the 
 heat-lightning flashed for a moment through the darkiiess, 
 helpless and alone, in the power of a fierce, blood-thirsty 
 negro For one instant, a deadly inclination to swoon came 
 over her ; but the next, " coward and boaster," as she heard 
 the words from P.anty's lips, came borne to her ear, nerving 
 her heart with new courage and her childish arms with new 
 
 strength. 
 
 " Am I a coward and boaster, as he said ? " she mentally 
 exclaimed, while her eye lit fiercely up. *' Yes, I am, if I 
 scream and faint; so I won't do either. It wasn't for 
 nothing I learned to shoot and carry pistols about, and 
 Ranty won't call me a coward again, if I die for it! " 
 
 All these thoughts had passed through her mind in half 
 an instant, and now the dauntless little amazon sat erect on 
 her horse, and one little brown hand dropped to the pistol 
 she carried in her belt. 
 
 The black, meanwhile, had held her rearing steed firmly 
 by the bridle-rein. 
 
 ■* .. -r-i 4. ^sx _.:*!, ..^.. I »» B>^\A 4-K'» rjP"^'^ ornifflw. " I'll 
 
 " V^OIUC, get UJi WllH J-w-u : Sa-.U i!!-.- ''^£,- --; i> *- 
 
a»«- 
 
 :ai wn 
 
 :i|s| 
 
 1 I 
 
 162 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 look after you for a few days, Miss Pet. Come ; I've got a 
 nlace all ready for you in here." 
 
 ^ Now, Pet was too young and guileless to fear any worse 
 fate than robbery, imprisonment, or, perhaps, death ; but as 
 the negro attempted to pass one arm around her waist and 
 m hefirom her saddle, her face blanched with horror and 
 loathinff. and shrinking back she shrieked : 
 
 ««Let me go-let me%o, I tell youl I'll kill you if you 
 
 ''" Orcoml'°ow, missy-none o' this. Little kittens spit 
 and snap%u; we ain't afraid of 'em. You've got to cornel 
 so vou may as well come at once. . j-„. 
 
 "^Lift her off, and carry her 'long. No use a-standin 
 foolin' here 1 " said another deep guttural voice. 
 
 .< Let me alone 1 I tell you let me alone 1 U murder 
 you if you don't 1 " screamed Pet, passionately, her finger 
 
 ''''^^!?:^^^r!ni^s yer 1 " exclaimed the black, 
 as he resigned the horse to his companion. 
 
 And, going over to Pet, he flung his arm around her and 
 attempted to lift her from her saddle. 
 
 A flash of lightning at that instant revealed the black 
 shining visage plainly to Pet as his face was upra:sed to 
 
 ^^Her teeth were clenched hard, her pistol was raised, one 
 sw!^ short prayer for help, and the brave little amazon 
 
 ^' A loud cry, that arose even above the sharp report, burst 
 from the l?s of him who held the horse, as he let go the 
 reins and sprung toward his wounded companion 
 
 The frightened Arabian, the moment he felt himself 
 released, bounded madly away, and in five minutes Pet was 
 
 'The'c'ottfge' on the Barrens was the nearest habitation ; 
 but all was dirk there, and the family had evidently retired 
 
 '° While Pet paused to deliberate a moment whether she 
 woulS rouse them up or ride home to HeaU. Rill she dianc^ 
 to turn her eyes in the direction of the White Squall-as the 
 , , : " „ L^;.oi Mnvpnfnl. had named his huge white 
 palace^Tpartedwood-and perceived a long line of red 
 
PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. 
 
 163 
 
 e got a 
 
 (T worse 
 ; but as 
 list and 
 ror and 
 
 1 if you 
 
 ;ens spit 
 3 cornel 
 
 ■standin' 
 
 I murder 
 ;r finger 
 
 le black, 
 
 her and 
 
 le black, 
 raised to 
 
 ised, one 
 I amazon 
 
 ort, burst 
 ;t go the 
 
 himself 
 s Pet was 
 
 abitation ; 
 tly retired 
 
 lether she 
 ic chanced 
 all — as the 
 uge white 
 ine of red 
 
 light streaming from one of the windows far over the dry 
 level moor. 
 
 '' Uncle Harry's up yet I " exclaimed Pet. " I'll go there, 
 and stay all night. Gee up, Starlight ! You have carried 
 me out of danger once to-night ; just take me to • Old Har- 
 ry's,' as Deb says, and then you rnay put your head under 
 your wing and go to sleep as fast as you like." 
 
 As if he had understood her, her fleet steed bounded 
 furiously over the heath; and five minutes later. Pet was 
 standing knocking away with the butt-end of her whip on the 
 door, loud enough to waken the dead. 
 
 The terrific thumping brought three or four servants 
 scampering to the door ; and close at their heels, holding a 
 bedroom candlestick high over her head, came the " grand 
 seigneur " of the household, himself looking slightly be- 
 wildered at this attempt to board him by force. 
 
 " Law 1 if it ain't Miss Pet 1 " ejaculated the man who ad- 
 mitted her. " Might 'a' known 'twar she ; nobody else 
 would come thumpin' like dat. Fit to far de ruff off ! " 
 
 " Don't be afraid, Uncle Harry ; it's only me I " said Pet, 
 as she came in dispersing the darkeys by a grand flourish of 
 her whip. 
 
 " Port your helm ! " exclaimed the admiral, still slightly 
 bewildered, as the held the candlestick aloft and stared at 
 Pet with all his eyes. 
 
 " Well, how can I port my helm out here, I want to know ? " 
 cried Pet, testily. " Look at these niggers gaping, as if I 
 had two heads on me, and you, standing staring at me, with 
 that old candlestick over your head, that's got no candle in 
 it. Here I go along with you ! Be off with you 1 " 
 
 And again Pet flourished her whip among them, in a way 
 that had the effect of speedily sending them flying to the 
 kitchen regions, while she gave her passive uncle a push 
 that sent him into the parlor from which he had just 
 emerged. 
 
 This done, Pet followed him, shut the door with a bang, 
 flung her whip across the room, and dropped, with a long, 
 deep breath of relief and security, into an arm-chair. 
 
 The admiral sunk into another, still holding the candle- 
 stick in his hand, and never removing his eyes from her face. 
 Thus they sat for some minutes, she gazing on the floor, he 
 

 Twr 
 
 :aiwn 
 
 Hi 
 
 ,64 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 was a " plentiful scarcity oi i ^^^^ ^^^^ 
 
 hers, a great P-P^^^^^^^^^.^.p^'^ he w ndows were shaded 
 
 covered by a ^^'^^ ^^^^^ "^'^re «s while as the largest 
 by blue-pnper ^ ^^s he wall^wer^ ^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ,,dadorr.ed 
 
 possible amount of whittwasn cou corvettes, and 
 
 possible amount OI w"'^VV''^'V:Ur^ si '>ooT>ers, corvettes, ai 
 
 Over the mantel-p.ece was ^l;"8^i^P^een3ea, blazing 
 
 colored and ,>mk ■"^,";"f-;"' ''" ,^,, 'o„lhose deck could 
 away at a 'er.^t.ed-lookn, l.ttle cmter on ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ 
 
 ^^-itilrt^fwit^f^ ■Sfe-f-'■'"•- 
 hug. cages, ailed with «^^ PJf^^j w -1^ e the model 
 
 on the mantel-piece, right under //.' I^mtin . ^^ 
 
 A huge, wide fi-P^-^';;", tn ^g,^^^^^^^^^^^ one corner 
 the evening, a bright h re ^^as b rm g, 1^ ^^^^^ ^^^^^_ 
 
 of the apartment, and close beside ^^^^^ ^'" j^ 
 f ul, in I 's elbow-chair, ^^dl star-g a^^h . n -c^^^^ ^^^^^^^^ 
 
 The admiral was a man of ^^^^y °;,:^' ^,^^°^^^^ ^^^^ simple, 
 .vith a rubicund face, a pi ly sailo ^^^^ ^S^^^' ^^^art w.um 
 crood-naturcd look, naturally, that "^^^^^^^^y easily 
 
 Toward him. Very rich, very f^XTalHhe poor in the 
 ^. taken in," he was the guardian angel o a^l tl e P ^^^ 
 
 neighborhood. The admiral ^^^^^^"^^^^J^^" settle down 
 only quitted the service a few yea s btfo e o 
 ani end his d ^ys m ^the pride of '- hean,J^ ^^isly-punch, 
 eye-blinding ••Vvmteoquai.-^tY^. noticeable 
 
 children, and nautical phrases, were 
 
-Mii^tfc'-asws^* 
 
 .-«#<« 
 
 ley are 
 nd the 
 
 i, there 
 
 unlike 
 )or was 
 shaded 
 
 largest 
 idorned 
 :es, and 
 art of a 
 
 i\ 5,ira'vV 
 blazing 
 ;k could 
 Iv taller 
 ide and 
 stranger 
 lit make 
 
 e or six 
 a dozen 
 ;ie model 
 i set, her 
 -for none 
 ;ea, stood 
 
 i-armth of 
 ne corner 
 d Haven- 
 plethoric, 
 
 a simple, 
 ;art warm 
 ery easily 
 )Oor in the 
 , and had 
 ettle down 
 Lige, white, 
 sky-punch, 
 
 noticeable 
 
 PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. 165 
 
 traits in the old man's character. His niece, Pet Lawless, 
 had never ceased to astonish him, from the first moment he 
 saw her, and now he sat hopelessly gazing at her, and trying 
 to make out what, could have brought her there at that 
 hour of the night, looking so pale and excited. 
 
 Pet, with her dark eyes fixed on the floor, was uneasily 
 wondering whether she had killed the man she had shot at, 
 and shuddering to think what a dreadful thing it was to shed 
 blood, even in self-tlefense. 
 
 "Oh, I hope— I do hope I haven't killed him! she ex- 
 claimed at last, involuntarily, aloud. , , • , 
 
 " Killed who ? Firefly ? " inquired the astounded admiral. 
 
 "Uncle Harry," said Pet, looking abruptly up, "I've 
 
 gone and killed a man 1" u 1 j 
 
 This startling announcement so completely overwhelmed 
 the worthy admiral, that he could only give vent to his feel- 
 ings by a stifled " Stand from under 1 " 
 
 "Yes, I just have; and I expect they'll hang me for it, 
 now. Ranty said I was to be hung, but who would think he 
 could really tell fortunes?" , , ,• 
 
 " Killed a man ! St. Judas Iscariot I " ejaculated the dis- 
 mayed admiral. " When, Flibbertigibbet ? " 
 
 " To-night ; not fifteen minutes ago. I expect he s as 
 dead as a herring by this time 1 " said Pet, planting her 
 elbows on her knees,' dropping her chin in her hands, and 
 gazing moodily into the fire. 
 
 Admiral Havenful glanced appealingly at the candlestick ; 
 but as that offered no clue to the mystery, he took off his 
 hat, scratched his head (or, rather, his wig; for he wore 
 one), and then clapped it on again, and turned briskly to 
 
 his niece. 
 
 " Now, litde hurricane t just shake out another reef or so 
 —will you ? I'm out of my latitude altogether." 
 
 " Well, I guess you'd have been more out of it, if you had 
 been caught as 1 was to-night," said Pet, with a sort of 
 <doomy stoicism. " I was coming through the woods, you 
 know, between Dismal Hollow and the Barrens, when, all of 
 a sudden, two great, big black niggers jumped from behind 
 the trees, and caught hold of my horse." 
 
 With something like a snortof terror and dismay, the ad- 
 
i J iWU. mvo 
 
 j66 the gypsy QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 „ tn his feet and brandished the candlestick 
 tmral sprung to his ^^^ ' J^^^ j , f„, ^.^,^, ,,.,, to come. 
 
 fiercely over ;^^ f ^';^^;^ V^'^^And wh?t did you do, whirligig? " 
 
 ;; ^,f tlid lll^n^ let^o, and they Wouldn't ; and then 
 
 I took a^pistol, and shot one of them 1 exclam.ed Pet, .ith 
 
 ^*'^ilfo?di ! '• shouted the admiral, waving the candlestick 
 
 '''^:.Ti^l^:tXL^ , •: .-area .he adn,.a,^as he 
 sprung forward a,Hi catching ^J^^'^^k^l^ Z^.^l 
 t::^:^^^ "B>.'sa-n'lOopher Co, Jnbus > you 
 "'/vVdrtt'n'rnicc to kill a man, or even a nigger 1 
 
 ' r^xlV; he "ouldTtiough I don't see where would be 
 
 admiral, puffing up and down the room, with his hands stuck 
 in his pockets, like a stranded porpoise 
 
 "no the girl doesn't want to get killed, said Pet, 
 
 ;rvtrof;e'^T:s^nf^Terii^^^^^^ 
 
 n him bv his bleeding. There's a reward offered, too 
 for whoever takes them up; and who knows bu. . ...ay 
 get it?" • 
 
> " 
 
 may 
 
 PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. 167 
 
 «• Set fire to the reward 1 That's a good notion, though, 
 about going in search of them when they're wounded, Pet. 
 Oh you're a jewel, FHbbertigibbet, and no mistake about 
 itl' There ought to be a song made about you 111 go, 
 tooi and there's no lime to lose. Pipe all hands, i-irehy, 
 while I go and look for my boots." 
 
 " Now, why couldn't he say ' Call the servants, as well as 
 ' Pipe all hands ' ? which hasn't a sensible sound at all, said 
 Pet, as she arose to obey. " Here, you I Jake, lorn, Hob ! 
 she added, opening the door, and shouting at the top of her 
 lungs, " come here as fast as you can. There s murder in 
 
 the camp I " , . , , -.t • 
 
 " Tumble up ! " roared the admiral, from within. ^ 
 
 " Tumble up 1 " repeated Pet, imitating the old sailor s 
 uruff roar as well as she could. " Uncle says so." 
 
 lake, and Tom, and Bob, most probably thinking from 
 the uproar, the house was on fire, " tumbled up " accordingly, 
 precipitating themselves over one another, in their eagerness 
 to be first on the field of battle. 
 
 <' Clear out, and saddle four horses, and arm yourselves 
 with boarding-pikes and cutlasses!" commanded the ad- 
 miral, fastening a rusty sword to his side, and sticking a 
 couple of pistols in his belt. " And then moun , and ride 
 round to the front door, and stand by for further orders. 
 Oh, the blamed black villain 1 He deserves to walk the 
 plank, if ever any one did 1 " . .• j 
 
 All this time, the admiral had been going panting and 
 puffing round, like a whale, arming himself with every con- 
 ceivable weapon he could lay hands on, and vociferating, 
 alternately, to himself, to " heave to 1 " and " stand from 
 
 ""pet had run out, and sprung upon Starlight, while the 
 three alarmed servants rode behind her. And in a few mo- 
 ments the admiral made his appearance, and got astride a 
 solemn, misanthropic-looking old roan, with many grimaces 
 and contortions ; for the admiral did not believe in nding 
 himself, and would sooner have faced a tornado, any day, 
 on the broad Atlantic, than ride three yards on horsebacK. 
 The ni-ht was still intensely dark, but perfectly calm, and 
 hv the command of PetroniUa, the men had provided dark 
 lanterns. All were now ready; but the admuai, iike most 
 
nKJft ^IV-iU =aivo 
 
 i!f 
 
 SI. 
 
 •J 
 
 i68 THE GYPSY QUKKN'S VOW. 
 
 ^enerMs leading his troops to battle, considend it his duty 
 generals itaun ^ i • j^pgeches on the eve of a 
 
 h.ulf ^rrr'Seve n«. effiTado'us, and, acting ,.„ .his 
 CO to on, Admiral Hav.nful's wa.s brid, pul,; and <o U,e 
 
 Vn. 1 ■/ C that'? no matter. The enemy's before ,.u , 
 Ave 'em'a raking broadside first, and then board 'em, sword 
 g.vc em a ra»«"K j^ ^^,,. ^p^n you IKA^ -or 
 
 '" ^M K V ?h. V arc slecnmg about this time ! Clap on 
 
 would be only they are sieti)mi, . -.i^.^nhl Gee up, 
 
 all sail; and scud before the wind 1 Hoorah 1 up, 
 
 ""'rt'eliect of tms spirited add.ess could not be seen in the 
 dark ind resolved at all hazards to practice what he 
 \'^^ thridmiral gave b^th heels a simultaneous dig 
 preached, the '^'^ ^^'j ^^^^ j^^kh^g ,teed, which had the 
 etct o1 se t ng'th t o'muZly-naniil animal off at a shu- 
 
 groan after'groan «as jerked from h.s Jolted boson >y tl.e 
 
 ""f."U:l;:jhl-'nkl^an--old_hulk-^n-a-swell 1 •• 
 
 canre cbur'ned. word by word like ^•■'\^;j!Z,Z 
 
 ,ips of the -'"•■-^:;.^,7,l';V-<'^^'— " ''^'<'" 
 j'jl be — capsized — cJiu ciiy — uy 
 
 ^''"^^'" , ^i« > " pxrhimed Pet, 11. i)atiently, 
 
 t"t„etUct.-^ :^;%-.n^rneTw'i-..e.y old nag of yours 
 "•'^'rl.:!:iU'edT<:^dea.h_a..eady_Pet Eve^- 
 
 a— =t<.p — • - ,- g — ^ — particular — 
 
 the— ocean— and— ask— it--ot--uie as—* v 
 
 Uvorl " grunted the jolted admiral. 
 
»i««fl*l««fra 
 
 PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOL . 169 
 
 n.ounted before ^ '"'f J;^';^^f*,'J''„,i,utes brought her to 
 And off went • A very lew ^^^^ 
 
 the cottage. Ahgnt.ng from ^^^/J^^ ^^'^f;/^ KVir.i^ie. 
 
 voice demanded : 
 
 :: U's mefLuc'i-Pe. Lawless. Come down .nd open -he 
 
 o„sarcv,mc,sed hour ol dc n fe ^^^ _^ ,he window 
 
 -r^oi^i ^e,^^^^^^^^^^^^ rtn:;!S dt 
 
 '"'now'" 'en 1" Is Ray in bed?" abruptly demanded 
 nrScy, who e.pec.ed «„^;s -rLt!ir"is' ind: 
 
 ro^rrs^^oTsrdotn H" tS'" *--•' '-'-" 
 
 scandalized and indignant. „ ^^.j 
 
 u Well— don't you hear me ? Is Kay in oea f 
 
 our impatient Nimrud, in a hi^he^key. ^^^^^^^ 
 
 ;/'rnd';:rgar!\tat h : co^sSe tas m^re light than 
 stiffly, and t^'^g^^^'"'- '; ' .. Y^r is mighty fine, to come at 
 dignified, " you may t ink dis y^''^^^ J ,,^^Vs'r's in bed, 
 
 de^dead hours ob ^^,^1^ .^^ "'^j Vr,c^^ 
 butit'ssomefinlwouldntdo efl b^^^^^^^ ^ ^.J ^^^ 
 
 rs allers tooken care not to be cotched ^^^^.i^es, 
 
 young ladies, now-a-days, as have no speci 
 
 ^^V:\^;^^:ut;;ful cm thing l" exclaimed P^angTil>-. 
 
 :i:ip l;^^; ur ^— r^sru^^^ '"' 
 
 wmp c^ c^ y ^j^^ I ^jo to you. 
 
 me, or i ii— leavC j^}- -j o - 
 
— »' "W" 
 
 I' tj f l"" ? " 
 
 :aivo 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 170 
 
 The noise of voices in violent allercati.n now brought 
 Erminic to the scene of action, looking like an angel in her 
 
 flowinu snowy night-dress, , , • 1 
 
 "\Av Pct^vhat is the matter ?" she asked m a arm. 
 
 -Nothing, only 1 want Ray. Is he in bed? H he is. 
 
 ''''-lie 'is llot home. He and Ranty went away somewhere, 
 after tea. and haven't come back. Wc thought they had 
 gone to Heath Hill. Oh, Pet ! has anything happened to 
 them?" said Krminie. tlaspin- her hands. 
 
 - Not is 1 know of. Like as not they're at Heath 1 1 lU. 
 I hav.'., I been there, myself, since early this mornmg. Now, 
 don't get frightene.l and be a goose Minme 1 i vvan^^'^ 
 Rayto^u-lpme in a splendid piece of-o mischief; bu 
 Ts he's not in. it's no matter. Good-night, and pleasant 
 
 dreams. I'm off." . , 1 , • 1 
 
 And olT she was, like a shot, slamming the door behind 
 
 her after her usual fashion, and just succeeded in spr.ng- 
 
 ing'into her saddle as the slow cavalcade came tramping 
 
 "^Slowlv as they rode, a short time brought them now to 
 the forest-road. Just as they entered it. a figure came rush- 
 
 ^"^.XlplheipT whoever you are, or he'll bleed to death !" 
 " Why, It's Ranty 1 " exclaimed Pet, in amazement, as she 
 
 recognized the voice. , . , 
 
 Aithe same moment, one of the men, 'if^mg his lantern, 
 
 let its rays stream upon the new-comer, and all started to 
 
 behold a black, shinuig, ebony face. ^ . ,. . , 
 
 "it's a nigger 1 " howled the admiral. " Blow him out of 
 
 '''.utnol'a nigger 1 " shouted the voice of Ranty. "If this 
 soot was off, I'd be as white as you, if not cons.devab y 
 whiter. Come along ; he'll die soon, if he's not dead al- 
 
 '^^'!' Who'Tdie^? ""vVho are you talking about ? Oh, R.inty ! 
 who is it ? " exclaimed Pet, growing faint and sick with sud- 
 
 '^"Xy?R;'Germaine, to be sure. You'll have some. 
 
 , ■'urn-T ~f »"♦ T -^vvlPQ.; after troiner and shooting Kay 
 
 GZl:;^t<;^VyoZ'now7^ Y always k.cw your luggmg 
 
 P' 
 
 g' 
 lii 
 
 w 
 
 d 
 
 h 
 1( 
 ii 
 
 s 
 3 
 ( 
 
.^ ^I»# j gr ^ 
 
 ..♦«u«.-* 
 
 PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. 
 
 171 
 
 . * 1 «nnrl like a fcmalc Blackbeard, would come to no 
 
 Su d howl of minglea grief ""f nd.gnanon 
 
 For one dreadful moment Pet reeled ''"^J^'^l'l ^^^ 
 , 1J»^ Then w th a long, wild, passionaic •-•;', 
 
 H'Ved t^-n her hu,re, and spel like .n arrow from a bow 
 into the woods. , . (^,( j flashes of 
 
 She had not far to go. By °"^ °;, 7jd,,u, she saw 
 
 sheet-lightning <^»' "^.'t^ Iv 1^™" o"'«» °" '"^ '•'V 
 a .lark, s ender >'°>;'^\';™„',>^"„^, ,he was kneeling beside 
 drenched grass 1 he •«•''''"''"• ^ clasping his cold, 
 him, holding h.^ head on her breast, and c^p^^^g^^ ^^^ 
 
 "'i^rRaVl T'nej:;ra"t U >' I never -«.r thought .t 
 
 doom's day, it won t bring him to. ^ ^ j^ ff ^s 
 
 nrV'^''X%^or(annwrstrd"o bel,eve),to 
 
 '"^.•^rRam;. 1 do';r-;ink ho «>. aie^ - exc,ai^.ed P^^^^ 
 
 which "^"-^^^'^ °," ';", t°^^^^^ cottage, the best thing you can 
 you've sent the ^"^^^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^j^e sheriff and save him 
 do is to go and give yoursdt Pj^^'^ 3^ off, now, 
 
 the trouble of coming to ^^^^ ' ^^^^^f f J ^he mischief y.u 
 and ride fast, if y^^^^^J"'' , '7'^ on \'^" ^""^ '' '''"'" 
 
 duu s^^ , ^^^, p^y home. 
 
 make a nuer tu c^ir) p- - ^— .- 
 
^ iiva 
 
 172 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 « Go for the doctor, Pet," whispered the admiral. *' I've 
 got out of my reckoning again, somehow. Don't see where 
 
 the wind sits, for my part." , 1, j 1 ,^a 
 
 Without a word. Pet leaped mto her saddle and darted 
 off, according to Ranty's directions, as if " Satan was after 
 her " And then, superintended by Ranty, a rude litter was 
 made and the cold, rigid form of Ray placed upon it 1 he 
 negroes carefully raised it on their shoulders, and headed 
 by Ranty and the admiral, the melancholy cavalcade set out 
 
 for the cottage. ,,,.,,• n 1 jm 
 
 " How in the name of Beelzebub, did this all happen ? 
 was the worthy admiral's first question, as he rode along 
 beside his afflicted nephew. 
 
 '< It's my opinion Beelzebub, or some other of them old 
 fellows, has had a hand in it, all through," said Ranty. with 
 another suppressed howl of grief. '• The way of it you see, 
 Uncle Harry, was this : Pet would go to Dismal Hollow 
 this mornin- in spite of all we could say or do. We told 
 her there were savage negroes in the woods who would send 
 her to kingdom come as fast as they would look at her ; but 
 it was only a heaving away of breath and cl(;quence to talk 
 to her Go she would and go she did. Well, I persuaded 
 Ray to play a nractical joke on her by blacking our faces 
 and waylaying her on her road home, to see whether or not 
 she was as courageous as she pretended to be, Ray con- 
 sented, and we stopped her here, and by George ! befx)re 
 we knew what we were about she fired at Ray, and then 
 dashed off before you could say ' Jack Robinson. Ray 
 fell li'ce a stone, and I, with a yell like an Indian war-whoop, 
 rushed up to him, and raised him up, and asked him if he 
 w IS killed. He said ' no ' but that he thought he was pretty 
 badly wounded in the shoulder, and 1 could feel his coat 
 all wet with blood. If I had been a grown-up man the 
 way I would have sworn at Pet, just then, would have been 
 a caution ; but as I wasn't, I contented myself with wishing 
 I had a hold of her for about five minutes— that was all ! 
 A little later, Ray went and fainted as dead as a mackerel, 
 and there we were, left like the two ' Babes in the Wood, 
 and I expect, like those unfortunate infants, the robins 
 
 micht have made us a grave, li yuu h.t^n l ^on,. j, -i- 
 
 the nick of time to my relief. I didn't like to leave poor 
 
PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. I73 
 
 '"'i^^;e're1"'SerLty>oking invo.untatri.y in the d. 
 
 '''aToUl Moto Ketura finds out Firefly has shot her boy, 
 there'llte mutiny amon^ the crew ."^ said the adm.ral, in a 
 
 ■">:nv>tr:iUr4^tnV''LirRanty;..su^ 
 heriJeandJtJrc flighting a duel in a peaceable, fr.endiy 
 
 -^i^!,,"ii:n\;°i::;rs.i'rfr';ruth. every ..^ 
 l;-r-Se^ ir ^Sd'Ta\°tvTr:Sr "ta;t 
 
 was shot accidentally ' 
 
 " On purpose," interrupted Ranty. „ 
 
 .' Or L' he was shot by mistake--so he was, you know. 
 . All right 1 I'll fix it up ; trust me to get up a work ^f 
 
 fiction founded on fact, at a moment's notice 1 Here v^e 
 
 "^i^nlf ktcS, a^d'^^lin the window up above was 
 r.itd .ndthe simesabfe head, a second time aroused 
 f ?omt; rmbers, was protruded, and in sharp, irritated tones 
 
 demanded: 
 
 " Who's dar now, I'd like ter know ? 
 
 - A mighty polite beginning," muttered Ranty-then rais 
 ing his voice-" it's me. Lucy-Ranty Lawless 
 
 - Ugh 1 might have known it was a Lawless I Nev er seed 
 Mich a rampageous set-comin' and rousin' people out der 
 bed dis hoSe night. Fust de sister, den debrudder ; fust 
 de 'un den de uddlr," scolded Lucy, quite unconscious she 
 was "'aX poetry ; '' what in de name of Marster does yer 
 
 " -ro'get in, you sooty goblin I " fof^ ^^L't ufilf ' 
 in a ragl "Come down and open the door, and let us in , 
 don't stand there asking questions." - • i :« - 
 
 "Belay yo"^ jawing tackle 1 " roared the aamiral, m a 
 voice like distant thunder. 
 
saiva 
 
 174 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " Deed, I won't den 1 Does yer tink I's no sort o' 'steem 
 for myself to go lettin' in men dis hour de night ? I hasn't 
 lived forty odd years to comet o dis in my old ages o' life." 
 And down the window went with a bang. 
 
 Before Ranty could burst out with a speech more vigorous 
 than proper, the door was softly opened, and Erminie, like a 
 stray seraph in her white floating dress, stood before them, 
 with a face pale with undefined apprehension, and exclaim- 
 ing, with clasped hands : • • i i 
 
 " Oh, Ranty, something has happened 1 what is it ? I 
 could not go asleep after Pet left, and I felt sure something 
 was going to happen. Where's Ray ? " 
 
 "Hush, Erminie; don't be frightened. Go in and get a 
 light, and don't wake your grandmother— go." 
 
 " But tell me first what has happened. I won't scream. 
 I'll be very good," pleaded Erminie, her face growing whiter 
 
 and whiter. , ,r. , 
 
 " Well, then— Ray's got hurt pretty badly, and Pet s gone 
 for the doctor. Now don't go crying, or making a time, 
 but light a candle, and kindle a fire, and get some linen 
 bandages and things ; they're always wanted when wounds 
 are dressed. That's a good girl— worth your weight in gold 
 not to speak of diamonds. Hurry up! " 
 
 Pale and trembling, but soon wonderfully quiet, Ermi- 
 nie obeyed, but started back with a faint cry of terror, when 
 the light fell on the black faces of the boys. 
 
 " Hush, Erminie I give me some soap and water 'till I 
 wash all this black off before the doctor comes," said Ranty. 
 " I dare say, I ain't very pretty to look at just now ; but 
 never mind ; a good scrubbing will set it all right. And now 
 get some more, and wash the black off Ray's face, too ; I 
 fancy you'll find him white enough underneath by this time." 
 
 Still trembling, and with a face perfectly colorless, Ermi- 
 nie obeyed ; and while Ranty was giving his frontispiece a 
 vigorous scrubbing, Erminie was more gently bathing that 
 of Ray. When the dusky paint was off, the deadly pallor 
 of his face seemed in such striking contrast, that she barely 
 repressed a cry of passionate grief. Cold, and still, and 
 white he lay, like one already dead. Then Ranty, with a 
 face shinin"- from the combined influences of sincere grief, 
 and a seve're application of soap and water, went to the 
 
 c 
 h 
 r 
 t 
 
i-«miw-»*sw« 
 
 PLAYING WITH EDGED TOOLS. i75 
 
 door to see, like Sister Annie in " Bluebeard," if there was 
 ^anybody doming/' Very soon he returned with the wel- 
 come intelligence^hat he heard the tramp of approaching 
 horses- and the r.xt moment Pet burst wildly into the 
 room followed by a grave, old, baldheaded gentleman- 
 the nhvsici.-n of Tudestown. , t. ^ 
 
 ..Oh doctor, will he die?" passionately exclaimed Pet, 
 looking up, with a face as white as Raymond s own. 
 
 iSpe^i^ot ; can't tell just yet," said the doctor, as he 
 proceed^ed to rip up Ray's coat-sleeve, and remove the 
 
 "l^fto^undwas in the shoulder; and the doctor, with 
 very little difficulty, extracted the bullet, dressed the wound 
 and proceeded to administer restoratives. 1 hen seeing 
 Pet'sThite, terrified face, and with black eyes looking a 
 him so bes;echingly, he chucked her good-naturedly under 
 
 ''^. Dt't'be ataid, little blackbird 1 Master Ray's good as 
 half-a-dozen dead people yet. All you have go^o do is, to 
 nurse him carefully for a couple of weeks, and you U see 
 S alive and kicking as briskly as ever by the end of that 
 
 ^'"^'%h I'm so glad," said Pet, drawing a long, deep breath 
 and droppTng^^to a chair, she covered her face with her 
 
 ^"^The doctor now gave a few directions to Erminie. and 
 then took his leave. 'Fhe admiral followed him to the door, 
 
 "':! DoctCwill you just stand of! and on around here tiU 
 the bd?n there g'ets seaworthy again? I'll stand the dam- 
 ajres and don't you say anything about it. , , • , 
 
 ^The doctor nodded' and rode off; and then the admiral 
 seeing he could be of no use in the cottage, mounted, with 
 mn/ groans and g-nts. Ringbone, and wended h,s^w^y, 
 followed by his three valorous henchme.i, to the White 
 
 ^"^''Ranty go home," said Pet ; " we don't want you. You 
 can fen7apa!if he ^sks you, how it all happened and say 
 ain't coming home until to-morrow. As I ve shot Ray, 1 
 going to stay here and nurse him ; so be on i 
 
„,0t» 
 
 "ffrt 
 
 irriffil L..,jatMa.. 
 
 1/6 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 FIREFLY GOES TO SCHOOL. 
 
 " Puck found it handier to commence 
 With a certain share of impudence ; 
 Which passes one off as learned and clever, 
 Beyond all other degrees whatever. 
 
 —Song of Old Puck. 
 
 Judge Lawless was in a rage ! If you have ever seen an 
 angry lion, an enraged bea'-, or a young lady with her 
 mantle pinned awry," you may conceive in some measure 
 the state of mind in which that gentlemen trod up and down 
 his library floor, while he listened to Ranty's account of 
 Pet's exploit of the previous night. , , ^ u 
 
 Tudge Lawless was a man of forty or so, and had been a 
 widower for five years. His face was not particularly pre- 
 possessing though extremely handsome; h.s haughty, super- 
 cilious expression ; his cold and somewhat sinister eyes and 
 slightly sensual mouth, were, on the whole, rather repelling. 
 h! prided himself, as a general thing, on his gentlemanly 
 urbanity; but on the present occasion he quite forgot all his 
 customary politeness, and paced up and down m a towering 
 
 ^^Hb"son and heir, Master Ranty, had ensconced himself in 
 a velvet-cushioned easy-chair ; and with his feet on a stool, 
 and both hands stuck in his coat-pockets, took things very 
 
 coolly indeed. , , • u * 
 
 " To think that my daughter should act in such an out- 
 rageous manner!" exclaimed the judge, passionately; 
 " making herself a town's talk, with her mad actions. What 
 other young lady in her station of life would associate famil- 
 iarly with those people at Dismal Hollow, who are a low set 
 as far as I understand ; or ride through those infested woods 
 after night ? I shall put an immediate stop to it, if 1 have 
 to lock her up in the attic on bread and water. I have a 
 good mind to keep her on bread and water for a month or so 
 and see if that will not cool the fever in her bioou i And 
 
FIREFLY GOES TO SCHOOL. i77 
 
 you, sir," he added, stopping in his excited walk, and turn- 
 W furiously upon Ranty, "deserve a sound thrashing for 
 play ng such a trick upon your sister. It would have served 
 n young puppy Germaine right if she had put an end to 
 h "worthless Hfe^ 1 never liked that boy, and I command 
 you instantly to cease your intimacy with hnn. If your uncle 
 chooses to make a fool of himself, adoptmg every beggar s 
 brat for ^ protect, thafs no reason why I should follow his 
 lead NoC, sir, let me hear no more of this. As the son of 
 Judge Lawless, you should look for better companionship 
 than the grandson of an old gipsy." • , t, ^ 
 
 " I don't know where I'd find one. then," said Ranty, 
 sturdily "There isn't a boy from Maine to Louisiana a 
 better fellow than Ray Germaine. He can beat me at every- 
 thing he lays his hands to, from mathematics down to PuHing 
 a stroke-oar ; and there wasn't another boy at school he 
 couldn't knock into a cocked hat." 
 
 And with this spirited declaration. Master Ranty thrust 
 his hands deeper into his pockets, and planted his feet more 
 
 firmly than ever on the stool. ., , j u-„ f^.u^r 
 
 " How often must I tell you, sir," vociferated his father, 
 in a voice of thunder, "to drop this vulgar habit you have 
 got of talking slang? I presume your accomplished friend 
 Germaine, has taught you that, as well as your manifold other 
 acquirements," he added, with a sneer. , , /j 
 
 "No, he didn't," said Ranty, stoutly; ''and he could 
 knock them into a cocked hat, if not further, too I Ray 
 Germaine's a tiptop fellow, and I shouldn't wonder if he d 
 be a President some day. It will be the country's loss if he 
 
 "'"'Wence! str l' ' thundered the judge. " How dare you 
 have the brazen efTrontery to speak in this manner to me 
 You have improved under your sister's tuition rapidly, since 
 vou came home 1 Go .mediately to old Barrens Cottage 
 Ind bring Petronilla here. I shall see that she does not go 
 there aeain in a hurry." . , 
 
 Ranty rose, with anything but a sweet expression and 
 went out, shaking his fist grimly at the door, I am sorry to 
 sav. once it was safely shut between them. 
 
 On reaching the coUage, he found Ray flushed and feverish 
 ^.uu p..^ <>^A Frminip <iittiner OH either side of mm. 
 
T)«»- 
 
 'WTTWI 
 
 aivo 
 
 I-: 
 
 178 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 "Pet, go home; father says so," was his first brusque 
 
 " I won't then— not a step 1 " said the obstinate Pet. 
 
 " He'll be after you with a horsewhip mighty sudden, if 
 you don't," said Ranty. " I wish you could see how he's 
 been blazing away all the morning. I reckon he's stamping 
 up and down the library yet, nursing his wrath to keep it 
 warm till lit gets hold of you." 
 
 " Well," said the disrespectful vixen, "if he s a mind to 
 get mad for nothing, I can't help it. I shan't go." 
 
 " Oh, Pet I you'd better," said Erminie, anxiously. " He 11 
 be so very angry. 1 can take care of Ray, you know ; and 
 your father will scold you dreadfully." 
 
 " La 1 I know that 1 I'm in for a scolding, anyway, so 1 
 may as well earn it. Might as well be hung for a sheep as 
 
 a lamb, you know." „ u 1 • 
 
 " Oh, Pet 1 don't stand bothering here all day, broke in 
 Ranty, impatiently. " I've got to bring you home, anyway, 
 and I suppose you think a fellow has nothing to do but stay 
 here and wait 'till you're ready. Father will half-murder you, 
 if you don't come right straight along." 
 
 "Yes; go, Pet— p'.ease do," pleaded Erminie. "1 had 
 
 rather you would." ^ „ j 
 
 " Oh, well, if I'm to be turned out I suppose 1 must, said 
 
 Pet, taking her hat. " I'm ready, Ranty. Good-by, Minme ; 
 
 I'll be back after dinner." . . 
 
 "I don't know about that," muttered Ranty, sprmgmg 
 
 into the saddle. " People ain't got out of attics so easily as 
 
 you think." ... 
 
 A rapid gallop of half an hour brought them to Heath Hill, 
 a gently-sloping eminence, on which stood an imposing 
 mansion of gray sandstone, the aristocratic home of Judge 
 Lawless, the one great potentate of Judestown and environs. 
 
 The judge, from the window of the library, saw his son 
 and daughter approach, and flinging himself into the loung- 
 ing chair Ranty had vacated, he rung the bell, and ordered 
 the servant who answered his summons to send Miss Petro- 
 nilla up-stairs directly. 
 
 '^ Now, you'll catch it, Pet," said Ranty, with a malicious 
 
 chuckle. ^1. • 
 
 " Will I ? Wait 'till you see," retorted Pet, as, gathering 
 
if 
 
 FIREFLY GOES TO SCHOOL- 
 
 179 
 
 up her riding-habit in her hand, she prepared to follow the 
 
 servant up-stairs. 
 
 With his face contracted into an awful frown, destined to 
 strike terror into the flinty heart of his self-willed little heiress, 
 the judge sat, awaiting her coming. In she came, her hat 
 cocked jauntily on one side of her saucy little head ; her 
 round, polished, boyish forehead laughing out from between 
 clusters of short, crispy, jetty curls ; her black eyes all 
 ablaze with anticipated defiance ; her rosy mouth puckered 
 up ready to vindicate what she considered her legitimate 
 riVhts Not the least daunted was Pet by her father s look, 
 as swinging her riding-whip in one hand, she stood erect 
 and fearless before him. , . , 
 
 " Well, Miss Petronilla Lawless," began the judge, in a 
 measured, sarcastic tone ; " no doubt you are very proud of 
 last night's achievement. You think you have done some- 
 thing excessively clever now — don't you ? " 
 
 "Yes I do," said Pet; "and so would you and every- 
 body else— if I had only shot a real nigger, instead of Ray 
 Germaine. It wasn't my fault. I'd just as lief shoot one as 
 
 t'other." . . ., »• ^4. 
 
 " No doubt. The race of Joan D'Arc is not quite extinct, 
 I see. How will you like to have your name bandied from 
 lip to lip 'till it becomes a common by-word in every low 
 tavern and hovel in J udestown?" „ , , . a 
 
 "Well I shouldn't mind. I like to be talked about; and 
 it isn't the first time I have given theiu something to talk 
 
 about, either." 
 
 "No; but it shall be the last," said the judge, rising 
 st-rn'v, ' " I command you, now, to go no more to that cot- 
 ta<re 'f you dare to disobey me, it will be at your peril. ^^ 
 
 *^' Why, Where's the harm of going, I want to know ? 
 demanded Pet, it.dignantly. 
 
 " I am not in the nabit of 'giving reasons for my conduct, 
 Miss Lawless," sr'a Ihc judge, severely ; " but in this instance 
 I will say, it is excce h:^gly unbecoming in a young lady to 
 nurse a youth who .s a stranger to her. No other young 
 ladv would think for a moment of such a thmg. 
 
 "Well I ain't a young lady," said Pet," no more than 
 Ray is a'stranger. And if I 7oas a young lady, and went 
 
WBnrrimi 
 
 laivn 
 
 1 80 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 and shot a young man, I ought to help to nurse him well 
 
 again, I should think." _ 
 
 " What you think, Miss Lawless, is of very little conse- 
 quence, allow me to tell you. Your duty is to do as I say, 
 without presuming to ask questions. I have hitherto excused 
 your wild, rude conduct, and made every allowance for your 
 want of proper female training ; but really, your conduct is 
 gettin<^ so oulKi-;eous there is no telling where it will end. 
 My iiUention is, therefore, to put a stop to it at once." 
 
 Pet's eyes flashed open defiance, and her face assumed a 
 look of resolute determination; but she prudently said 
 
 nothing. . , , „•,.,• 1 
 
 " 1 have resolved, therefore, Miss Lawless, said the judge, 
 re-seatin^r himself, with a look of haughty inflexibility quite 
 overpowering ; '^ to send you immediately to school. I wrote 
 some time ago to a lady who keeps a private boarding-school 
 for youn-^ giVls, and she has promised to take charge of you 
 at any time. It is an exceedingly strict establishment, and 
 the severe discipline there maintained will have the good 
 effect, I hope, of taming down your glaring improprieties. As 
 1 feel that keeping you here any longer is like holding a keg 
 of gunpowder over a blazing furnace, I intend setting out 
 with you this verv afternoon. You need dresses and various 
 other things, I know, which I am not altogether qualihed to 
 procure ; I will, therefore, leave a sum of money in the 
 hands of Mrs. Moodie, sufficient to purchase you a compete 
 ouilit. and such other things as you m.ay want. It is useless 
 for you to remonstrate. Miss Lawless," said the judge, with 
 a wave of his jeweled hand ; " for nothing you can say will 
 move me from my purpose. I anticipated violent opposi- 
 tion on your part, and I am quite prepared for it. Go. / 
 have said, this afternoon, and go you shall. If you attempt 
 to oppose my will, you shall receive the severe punishment 
 you have already merited." ,, , 1 
 
 The judge stroked his dark, glossy mustache, and looked 
 threateningly at Pet; but to his surprise that eccentric young 
 lady offered not the slightest opposition. When she first 
 he.trd his intention of sending her away to school, she had 
 started violently, and her color came and went rapidly ; but 
 as he went on, her eyes dropped, and an mexpacab.e sm.i.e 
 flickered around her red lips. Now she stood before hira, 
 
FIREFLY GOES TO SCHOOIy 
 
 i8i 
 
 with demurely cast down eyes— the very personification of 
 meekness and docility ; had he only seen the insufferable 
 light of mischief blazing under their long, drooping, black 
 lashes, resting on the thin crimson cheeks, what a different 
 tale he would have read 1 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Pet, meekly ; " I suppose I can t 
 help it, and have got to put up with it. I don't know as I 
 should mind going to school, either, for a change. Mayn t 
 I call aP' ' .ee Krniinie before I go, papa ? " 
 
 " Hem-: -m 1 ah— I'll see about it," said the judge, rather 
 perplexed by this unusual submissiveness, and intensely re- 
 lieved, too, if the truth must be told ; for in his secret heart 
 he dreaded a " scene" with his stormy little daughter. 
 »• You may call in, for a moment, as we go past, and say 
 good-by ; but once in school, vou will form new acquaint- 
 ances among your own standing in society, and drop all the 
 low connections you have formed around here. 1 he c\:\ui;h- 
 ter of Judge Lawless," said that gentleman, drawing himself 
 up, " is qualified, by birth and social position, to take her 
 place among the highest and most exclusive in the land, and 
 must forget that she ever associated with — paupers 1 " 
 
 A streak of fiery red fiamed across the dark face of Pet, 
 and her black eyes fiew up, blazing indignantly at this in- 
 sult to her friends. Hut the next moment she remembered 
 her r<'/r, and down fell the long lashes again ; and Pet stood 
 as meek and demure as a kitten on the eve of scratching. 
 
 " This is all, I believe, Miss Lawless," said the judge, 
 resuming his customary, suave blandness, and feeling in- 
 tensely proud of his own achievement in having awed into 
 submission the hitherto dauntless Pet ; " you may go now, 
 and if you have any trifiing preparations to make before 
 starting, you will have sufficient time before dinner to accom- 
 plish them. I shall expect when we reach Mrs. Moodie's, 
 you will try to behave yourself like a young lady, as my 
 daughter will be expected to behave. You must drop your 
 rude, brusque ways, your slang talk, amazonian bearing, and 
 become quiet, and gentle, and ladylike, and accomplished. 
 
 You understand ? " , ^ • u 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " murmured Pet, putting her forefinger in her 
 
 mouth. ., 
 
 " Very well, 1 hope you do. Go now.' 
 
KTTim 
 
 :3l%'« 
 
 182 THE GYPSY QUEEN S VOW. 
 
 With her long iashes still drooping over her wickcdlj- 
 scintillating eyes, her finger still stuck in her mouth Pet 
 meekly walkecl out of the august presence,' and closed the 
 library-door , but no sooner was she safely outside, than a 
 change most v;onclerful to behold came over the spirit of her 
 dream. Up flew the long eyelashes, revealing the dancing 
 eves, all ablaze with the anticipation of fun and f.ohc ; erect 
 towered the little form, as she turned , ai .1 facing the door, 
 applied her thumb to her nose, flourished lu r four fingers in 
 a gesture more expressive than elegant, and ..xclaiiued : 
 
 ''Ohl won't I be good, though! won't 1 be lady-l.kel 
 won't I forget my friends 1 won't I W so quiet, and gentle, 
 and good, that they'll make a saint out o me F^tty soon 1 
 won'l I be a pocket-edition of ' St. Rose of Lima ! Maybe 
 
 I won't ; that's all ! " , 
 
 Pet was as busy as a nailer until dinne; was announced, 
 packing up such things as she wished to take with her to 
 
 '"^Gr^eat was the amazement of Ranty, when at the dinner- 
 table his father, in pompous tones, announced his immediate 
 departure with Pet. Ranty glanced at her. as she sat 
 quietly looking in her plate, and being somewhat w ler 
 awake in respect to her than his father, inwardly muttered : 
 <. Pet's up to something ; I can tell that whene^ er she 
 looks particularly quiet and saintly, like she does now ; 
 there's always ' breakers ahead,' as uncle would say. Mrs. 
 Moodie will find her hands full when she gets our let. 
 SVui'll discover she's caugiit a tartar, I'll be bound ? 
 
 immediately after dinner, black Debby was ordered to 
 .^..^ss Miss Pet for her journey, while the judge went to his 
 own apartment to make himself as irresistible as possib e. 
 In half an hour both were ready. Pet was handed into the 
 carriage by her father, and waved a smiling adieu to Ranty. 
 The judge took his seat beside her, and the two superb car- 
 riacre-hoises, flashing with silver-mounted harness, started 
 
 ^'as rh^^c'ar within sight of the cottage, Pet who had 
 been lying back silently among the cushions, started up, 
 exclaiming: _^ , j,„ . j,^ j^oing in there for a 
 
 •• Stop Ut lllC ^W\.<.A^-~) J"l— ; - -»» o O 
 
 moment : " 
 
FIRKVi.Y GOES TO SCHOOL- 
 
 183 
 
 The C'> ichman drew . and Pet sprung out. 
 
 «« I will f;ivc you jusi five minutes to make your adieux," 
 said the jmlge, drawing out his watch ; " if you are not 
 back in that time. I shall go -.ter you." 
 
 Pets eyes again defiantly Ha bed. but without deigning to 
 reply, she ran into the cott,i;:o. 
 
 Erii ic met her at the do. looked her surprise at 
 
 seei'ng me statelv equipage < judge Lawless stop at 'he 
 cottage, and Miss Lawless herself .ill arrayed for a journey. 
 
 " How IS Kiy ?" was Pet's first ciuestion. 
 
 " fust as he was this morning. Where are you going, 
 
 !Vt ? " 
 
 " He is no worse ? " 
 
 " No. Are yoii going away ? " 
 
 «' Has the doctor been here since ? 
 
 " Yes, be has just gone. Where are you going, Pet ? " 
 
 »«Oh — to school 1 " 
 
 " echoed Erminie in dismay. 
 old boarding-school, where I 
 and sneeze by rule. Ain't it 
 
 •y. 
 
 " To school 1 goin 
 ** Yes ; going to a 
 am to walk, talk, eat 
 nice ? " 
 
 «' Oh, Pet, I am so sorry ! " 
 
 "Well, I'm not I I expect to have a real nice time. 
 Everybody mightn't see the fun of it ; but I do 1 I intend 
 to finish my education, and be back in a w-ek I " 
 
 "Oh, Pet 1 I don't know what I shall do when you are 
 gone ; I will be so lonesome," said Erminie, her sweet blue 
 eyes tilling with tears, 
 
 " Why, didn't I tell you I'd be back in a week? I will, 
 too. There's an old dragon there, Mrs. Moodie— I've 
 heard of her before — and she> to hammer learning into 
 me. Oh, I'll dose her 1" ... 
 
 " Won't you write me a letter, Pet ? " said Erminie, who 
 was sobbing now, and clinging to her friend's neck. 
 
 " To be sure I will, and I'll bring it myself, to save post- 
 age. Don't you be afraid, Minnie. I can take cate of 
 Pet Lawless, and won't let her be put down by no one. 
 Good-by, now; Ive only got five minutes, and I guess 
 they're up by this time. Now don't cry and take on, 
 Minnie ; yor 1 see I'll learn so fast that I'll be sent home 
 
 iiiiisiicvi III TTvvK. I 
 
MICROCOPY RESOLUTION TEST CHART 
 
 (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 
 
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 3.2 
 
 3.6 
 
 •^ III 
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 1.4 
 
 II 2.5 
 
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 1.6 
 
 A APPLIED IfvMGE 
 
 1653 Eos! Mam Street 
 
 Rochester, New York U609 USA 
 
 (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone 
 
 (716) 288 - 5989 -Fax 
 
rreu 
 
 .gjvn 
 
 184 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 And with these mysterious words, Pet gave Erminie a 
 parting kiss, and ran from the cottage just as the judge put 
 his head out from the carriage to call her. 
 
 The journey now proceeded uninterruptedly. They re^ 
 mained that night at a hotel, and continued their journey 
 
 next morning. 
 
 A little after noon, they reached the four-story buildmg 
 where Mrs. Moodie kept her costly and exclusive boardmg 
 establishment for the young female aristocracy of the land, 
 and " trained up " (as her circulars had it) the rismg fe. 
 male generation in all the branches of an English, French, 
 musical, and religious education. 
 
 Judge Lawless and his daughter were shown mto a magnifi^ 
 cently-furnished drawing-room, where a " cuUud pusson " 
 took the gentleman's card and went of! in search of the 
 proprietress (if the word is admissible) of the establish^ 
 
 Fifteen minutes later, the rustle of silk resounded in the 
 hall Pet drew herself up straight as a ramrod, compressed 
 her lips, cast down her eyes, folded her hands, and looked 
 the very picture of a timid, bashful, shy little country-girl. 
 Then the door opened, and magnificent in a four-flounced 
 plaid silk, with a miraculous combination of lace and ril> 
 bons floating from her head, a tall, yellow, sharp-looknig 
 lady of middle-age floated in, and with a profound courtesy 
 to the judge that made her four flounces balloon out around 
 her after the fashion of children when making " cheeses," 
 dropped into a sofa, half-buried in a maze of floatmg- 
 
 "^"^This isMiss Lawless, I presume?" said Mrs. Moodie, 
 with a bland smile and a wave of her hand toward Pet. 
 
 " Yes, madam, this is my daughter ; and I consider it 
 my duty to tell you beforehand that^ I am afraid she will 
 occasion you a great deal of trouble." , . , 
 
 " Oh 1 I hope not 1 You are a good little girl— are you 
 not, my dear ? "—with a sweet smile to Pet. " In what 
 way, may I ask, my dear sir ? " 
 
 " In many ways, madam. She is, in the first place, un- 
 bearably wild, and rude, and self-willed, and— I regret to 
 say — disobedient. ■ • ■ a 
 
 « Is it possible ? I really would never have ima^ned 
 
FIREFLY GOES TO SCHOOL- 
 
 185 
 
 it ! " cried the lady, glancing in surprise and incredulity to- 
 ward the shy, quiet looking little girl, sitting demurely in 
 her chair, and not venturing to lift her eyes. " I think 1 
 have tamed far more desperate characters than this ; m 
 f ict I may say I know I have. Oh 1 I will have no trouble 
 witli your little girl ! Why, she is one of the qmetest look- 
 ing little creatures I think I ever saw." 
 
 The Judge glanced toward Pet, and was half inclined to 
 fly into a rage at discovering her so unlike herself, giving 
 the direct lie, as it were, to his assertions. 
 
 "Come over here, my love," said the lady, holding out 
 her hand with a bland smile to Pet. " I want to see you. 
 
 Pet, after the manner of little girls when they are fright- 
 ened or embarrassed, instead of complying, rubbed her 
 knuckles into her eyes, and pretended to cry. 
 
 " Get up, and do as you are told 1 How dare you act so ? 
 said the judge, forgetting his " company manners" in his 
 rage at what he could easily see was clever acting on Pet s 
 
 ^^"Now, pray, my dear sir, don't frighten the poor little 
 thing," cried the dulcet tones of the lady. " Little girls are 
 always nervous and frightened when first ^sent to school. 
 Come here, my love ; don't be afraid of me l" 
 
 « Go !" thundered the judge, with a brow like a thunder- 
 cloud. __ T._ ,. 
 
 Pet, still sniffling, got up and went over to Mrs. Moodie. 
 
 " What is your name, my dear ?" smiled the lady, taking 
 Pet's little brown hand in her own snowy finge- 
 
 "Pet-Pet-ronilla," sobbed the elf. 
 
 " Now, you must not cry, dear ; we will take the best of 
 care of you here. Of course, you will miss your papa for a 
 few days ; but after that we will get along ver>' nicely. Were 
 vou ever at school before ?" 
 
 "Ye-es, ma-am." 
 
 " What did you learn, love?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 « Petronilla ? " sternly began the judge. 
 
 " Now, pray, my dear sir," remonstrated the silkeri tones 
 
 of the lady, " leave it to me. Just see how you are f righten- 
 
 -• " ♦b^M'y. You can read, mv dear, 01 
 
 i^ned 
 
 lag LUC puui 
 
 course I" 
 
 
mri 
 
 :86 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 "Yes, nia-am." 
 
 " What books have you read, love ? have you read 
 many?" 
 
 " Yes, ma'am." 
 
 " What was their names ? " 
 
 " ' Jack and the Bean-stalk ; ' * The Goose with the Golden 
 Egg ; ' ' Little Red—' " 
 
 " Oh ! my dear, I don't mean those ! Have you read noth- 
 ing else ? " 
 
 " No, ma'am ; only a spelling-book." 
 
 " Can you write ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am, when somebody holds my hand." 
 
 " Have you studied grammar and f^eography ? I suppose 
 not, though." 
 
 " She has, madam ; at least she commenced," said the 
 judge. 
 
 " Ah, indeed ! What is English Grammar, love ? " 
 
 " A little book with a gray cover," said Pec. 
 
 " No, no ! What does English Grammar teach ?" 
 
 " I don't know — it never teached me anything ; it was 
 Mr. Hammer." 
 
 " Oh, dear me ! You are rather obtuse, I fear. Pe»-haps 
 you know more oi geography, though. Can you tell me 
 how the earth is divided ? " 
 
 "It ain't divided!'' said Pet, stou,ly. "It's all one 
 piece 1" 
 
 " Ah I I fear your teacher was none of the best," said the 
 lady, shaking her head. " We shall have to remedy all the;>e 
 defects in your education, however, as well as we can. I 
 hope to send you a very different little girl home, judge." 
 
 " I sincerely hope so," said the judge, rising. " Farewell, 
 madam. Good-by, Petronilla ; be a good girl--remember." 
 
 "Oh, ni remember'" said Pet, significantly, accepting 
 her father's farewell salute, with - great deal of sang-froid. 
 
 Mrs. Moodie politely bowed stately guest out, and 
 
 then turning to Petronilla, said : 
 
 " The young ladies are all in the ;lass-room studying, my 
 dear. Would you prefer ;^oing there, or shall I have you 
 shown to your room ? " 
 
 •' I'll go where the girls — I mean the young ladies arc," 
 said Pet, following the rustling lady up-stairs. 
 
FIREFLY GOES TO SCHOOL. 
 
 187 
 
 «' Very well, this way, then," said madam, turnmg mto a 
 long hall with large white folding-doors at the end, through 
 which came drowsily the subdued hum of recitation. ^^ 
 
 " Well • I think I have done the bashful up beautifully ! 
 mentally 'exclaimed Petronilla. <' I reckon I've amazed 
 papa. Maybe I won't surprise them some if not more, 
 before this night's over. Oh 1 won't I dose them though ? 
 
 And, chuckling inwardly, our wicked elf followed the 
 stately Mrs. Moodie, who marched on ahead, in bUssUii 
 ignorance of the diabolical plot brewing in Pets mischief- 
 loving head. 
 
 was 
 
 one 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 
 *• A horrid specter rises to my sight." 
 
 •• I hear a knocking in the south entry. 
 Hark ! more knocking ! "— MaCBKTH. 
 
 Throwing open the folding doors, Mrs. Moodie passed 
 into the school-room, closely followed by Pet. 
 
 It was a long, high, wide r.om, with desks running round 
 the walls, and maps, globes, books and slates scattered pro- 
 f usely around. Before eacn desk was a chair, and some sixty 
 girls of all sizes and sorts sat now busily conning their 
 
 ^Twoor three teachers sat in various directions round the 
 room, before little tables, with their eyes fixed on the students, 
 ready to note down the slightest infringement of the rules. 
 
 It was seldom the commlnder-in-chief of the establishment 
 swept her silken flounces through the hot, dusty c/asse ; and 
 now! according to the long-established rule, teachers and 
 pupis rose simultaneously, and courtesied profoundly to 
 S^at august lady. Then every eye in ^^^^ty-tJiree heads 
 turned and fixed themselves upon the "^ P"P^\ ^j^^^^^,^ 
 sharp, searching, unpitying stare that only school grrls un- 
 derstand. Petronilla, however, was not ^inthe^^ ^remotest 
 degree troubled with that disagreeaole lairmg, y^^^f- -"-«^ 
 
•f.'sf H 
 
 188 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 fulness; and glancing round composedly, she swept the 
 whole room at a glance, and returned every stare with com- 
 pound interest. 
 
 " Young ladies," said Mrs. Moodie, with a graceful wave 
 of her hand toward Pet, " this young lady is Miss PetroniUa 
 Lawless, of Judestown, and will be your future companion 
 and fellow-pupil. I hope you will be mutually pleased with 
 each other, and try to make her at home among you as soon 
 as possible. Miss Sharpe she will enter your division." 
 
 And, with a stately bow of her beribboned head, Mrs. 
 Moodie rustled loudly from the room, while teachers and 
 pupils again bowed in deepest reverence. 
 
 Pet gave an assenting nod to Mrs, Moodie's remarks, 
 which had the effect of making two or three of the young 
 ladies, indulge in a little giggle behind their handkerchiefs. 
 Then, from a distant corner, came a small, keen, wiry-look- 
 ing human terrier, known by the appropriate cognomen of 
 Miss Sharpe, who immediately laid hands upon Pet, saying : 
 
 " Miss Lawless, come this way. You are to enter my 
 class." 
 
 Pet, as good a physiognomist as ever lived, raised her 
 keen eyes to the cantankerous face of the cross-looking old • 
 young lady, and conceived, upon the spot, a most intense 
 dislike to her. The other girls, at a silent motion from their 
 teachers, had dropped into their seats, and resumed their 
 studies — still, however, covertly watchmg the new pupil witt. 
 all a schoolgirl's curiosity. 
 
 Pet was led by sharp Miss Sharpe to the remote corner 
 from whence she had issued, and where sat some dozen or 
 two "juvenile ladies," all smaller than Pet. Miss Lawless 
 looked at them a moment in indisguised contempt, and then 
 stopped sl^ort, jerked herself free from Miss Sharpe's grasp, 
 and coming to a sudden stand-still, decidedly began : 
 
 " I ain't a-going to sit among them there little things. I 
 want to go over there ! " 
 
 And she pointed to where a number of young ladies, whose 
 ages might have varied from seventeen to twenty, sat in the 
 " First Division." 
 
 A very little thing will produce a laugh in a silent school- 
 room, where the pupils are ever ready to laugh at anything a 
 new scholar does or says ; and the effect of this brief speech 
 
PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 189 
 
 was a universal burst of subdued laughter from the sixty 
 « voune ladies " aforesaid. 1. , . 
 
 "Well you can't go there!" said Miss Sharpe, sharply, 
 looking daggers at Pet. " You are to sit in my division- 
 
 which is the lowest 1 " , ,. 4. „^ 
 
 a Yes I see it is," said Pet; "but you needn't get so 
 cross about it. I should think, when my papa pays or me, 
 I could sit wherever I like. I'm sure this hot old room 
 without even a carpet on the floor, ain't mixh of a place to 
 
 "'lUTun'iversal laugh, louder than the ^-t fdlowed 
 this ; and the sixty pairs of eyes flashed with wicked delight 
 —for Miss Sharpe was the detestation of the school. 
 " Silence ! " called the head monitor .ternly. 
 Miss Sharpe clutched Pet's shoulder v.ith no gentle hand, 
 and jerked her into a seat with an angry scowl. 
 
 « You must keep silence. Miss Lawless," she began, with 
 asperity " Young ladies are not allowed to talk in the class 
 room. You will have to sit wherever you are placed, and 
 make no complaints. Such rude behavior is not allowed 
 here. Hold your tongue, now, and read this. ^^ , , 
 Hereupon she took from her table the "Pirst Book of 
 Lessons,'' and put it into Pet's hand, with another scowl, 
 darker, if possible, than the tirst. 
 
 Pet look it, and holding it upside down for a while seemed 
 to be intently studying, thinking all the while that life in a 
 school-room was not only as pleasant, but considerably 
 pleasanter, than she had anticipated. ,u t ,\r..^ «;,« 
 
 But for Pet Lawless to keep silent any length of time was 
 simply a moral impossibility ; so, finding the cross teacher s 
 lynx eyes turned for a moment the other way, she bent over 
 toward her next neighbor, a little red-eyed, red-haired girl, 
 about her own age, and whispered, in strict confidence, 
 pointing to Miss Sharpe : . , „ 
 
 " Ain't she a horrid cross old thing ? , , • 
 
 But the young lady only glanced askance at the audacious 
 little law-breaker at her side, and edged nervously away 
 
 ^Tetronilla not being easily affronted or slighted, however 
 came close to little red-head, and holding her book to her 
 mouth, whispered again : 
 
liKKT t IIMU 
 
 :=iiMa 
 
 190 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S \ )W. 
 
 *• Does she ever whip you or anything ? She looks cross 
 enough to do it. Ain't it awful, coming to ; ( hool ? " 
 
 Seeing there was no escape from her persecutor, red head 
 thrust her knuckles into her eyes and began to cry. 
 
 "What's the matter now .'' " said the teacher, turning sharp- 
 ly round, and looking threateningly a^ Pet. 
 
 " Why, Miss Sharpe, she keeps a-talking to me all tlie 
 time and won't stop," whispered the unhappy owner of the 
 red hair. 
 
 *' What is she saying ? " said Miss Sharpe, in a quick, 
 irritated voice, that strongly reminded Pet of Dismal Hollow 
 and Miss Priscilla Toosypegs. 
 
 " She — she — she says you're a — a — a horrid cross old 
 thing, please, ma'am ! " wept the little one, digging her 
 knuckles still further into her eyes. 
 
 Miss Sharpe's face grew black as a thunder-cloud — ow- 
 ing to her peculiar complexion, she generally blushed black 
 or deep orange. In all her thirteen years' teaching, she had 
 never encountered a pupil who had dared to call her a "hor- 
 rid cross old thing" before. Old I — that was the the worst. To 
 L called so before the whole school, too ! Miss Sharpe sat 
 for one awful moment perfectly speechless with rage, and so 
 black in the face that there seemed serious danger of her 
 bursting a blood-vessel on the spot. 
 
 Once again a loud laugh, that would not be restrained, 
 came from the sixty pretty mouths of the sixty young ladies 
 so often spoken of. Even the teachers, although they stern- 
 ly called " silence ! " were forced to cough violently to hide 
 the smile that was creeping over their faces at Miss Sharpe's 
 
 rage. 
 
 Meantime, our dauntless Pet sat with a sort of head-up- 
 and-heels-down look, that was a sight to see ; her arms akim- 
 bo, and her bright black eyes blazing with defiance, daringly 
 riveted on the face of the justly-offended teacher. 
 
 " Did — did you dare to say that, you — you impudent, im- 
 pertinent — young saucy — " 
 
 " Abandoned, outrageous son of a gun 1 " put in Pet, com- 
 posedly. 
 
 " Silence 1 Did you dare to call me that — that name ? " 
 
 " I didn't call you any name- — I said you were a horrid 
 cross old thing ; and I'll leave it to ever}^body here if you 
 
'hor- 
 
 com- 
 
 PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 191 
 
 ain't 1 I ain't used to hold my tongue— and I'm not going 
 to do it, either 1 " said Pet, all ablaze with defiance. 
 
 Miss Sharpe sat unable to speak, her rage almost swamped 
 in her utter amazement. In all her experience she had never 
 come across so desperate and utterly depraved a case as this. 
 Every book was dropped, and every eye fixed on Pet. Even 
 the other teachers, unable longer to repress their smiles, ex- 
 changed crlnnces of surprise, and watched with interest and 
 curiosity, "the little original, who sat starin- at Miss Sharpe 
 
 as if for a wager. u j • ♦u- 
 
 u i_i won't endure this ! I am not to be insulted in this 
 manner I " said Miss Sharpe, rising passionately. " I'll go 
 and report her to Mrs. Moodie ; and either she or I must 
 
 leave this class. " . , , 
 
 « My dear Miss Sharpe, be calm, " said the head teacher, 
 a pleasant-faced young girl, as she rose and came over. 
 «' There is no use in troubling Mrs. Moodie about the matter. 
 This little girl, you perceive, has been indulged and spoiled 
 all her life, and cannot readily submit to authority now. My 
 dear," she added, turning to Pet, "you must sit still and 
 not talk. It is against the rules ; and you perceive you are 
 giving Miss Sharpe a great deal of trouble." 
 
 " Well, so is she, just as bad 1 She's giving me a great 
 deal of trouble, too 1 I want to go and sit in your class. " 
 
 " But you can't sit in my class, Miss Lawless. You must 
 keep the place allotted you. Little girls should be docile 
 and obedient, you know, and do as they are told. Will you 
 sit still now, and be quiet ? " _ 
 
 " Yes ; if she lets me alone 1 ' pointing to Miss Sharpe. 
 " You must do as your teacher says, child. Now, do be 
 a good little girl, and don't talk. '' And the sweet-voiced 
 young lady patted Pet's black curly head kindly, and went 
 back to her place. 
 
 Miss Sharpe, looking as if she would like to pounce upon 
 Pet, and pound the life out of her, relapsed scowling into her 
 seat ; and Pet, curling her lip contemptuously at the cross 
 teacher, took a lead pencil out of her pocket and began amus- 
 ing herself drawing caricatures of he: ;.■ over the book she 
 held in her hand. 
 
 A profound silence again fell on the hot, close c/asse,^:ind 
 the girls bent over to-morrow's tasks ; now and then h«\v= 
 
iULAML 
 
 ::ili#ii 
 
 X92 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ever, smiling slyly at each other, and glancing significantly 
 at tlie new-comer, whose short half-hour in school had already 
 created a sensation quite unparalleled in all the past history 
 of the establishment, and which was destined to fill sixty 
 letters home to " papa and mama " next time they wrote. 
 Then, in iialf an hour more, a bell loudly rung, and every girl 
 juniped eagerly up. This was the signal that school for the 
 day w;:s dismissed ; and books, slates and pencils were hustled 
 hastily out of sight ; and two by two the girls marched through 
 the now open folding-doors, beginning with the tallest, through 
 the long hall staircase, through another hall, out of a side- 
 room, and into an immense play-ground, furnished with 
 wings, skipping-ropes, hoops and everything else necessary 
 for recreation and amusement. 
 
 But no longer were hoops, and swings, and skipping-ropes 
 seized with loud shouts as heretofore ; newer and more at- 
 tractive game was in view now, and every one crowded 
 around our Pet, surveying her with open eyes as if she were 
 some natural curiosity. 
 
 But Pet had no intention of standing there to be looked 
 at and cross-questioned ; and breaking through the rmg 
 with the yell of an Ojibewa Indian, she sprung into one of 
 the swings, and invited " some of 'em to come and swing 
 her. " 
 
 Like hops in beer, Pet's presence seemed to throw the 
 whole assembly in a ferment hitherto unknown. The swings 
 flew wildly ; the skipping-ropes went up and down with light* 
 ning-like velocity ; the hoops whirled and flew over the 
 ground in a way that must have astonished even themselves, 
 if hoops ever can be astonished. The girls raced, and ran, 
 and skipped, and laughed as they had never done before ; 
 and the noise and uproar waxed " fast and furious." And 
 wherever the fun was highest, the laughter loudest, the excite- 
 ment wildest, there you might find Pet, the center and origin 
 of it all. Cross Miss Sharpe, who had been sent out to look 
 after them, and see that none of them broke their necks, if pos- 
 sible, wrung her hands in despair at the awful din, and rushed 
 hither and thither, scolding, shaking, threatening, and vocifer- 
 ating at the top of her lungs ; but all in vain. They were eveiy 
 
 one going 
 
 laZjf- 
 
 -iiidk was cviuciiL, 
 
 J J-U^t 
 
 .iiiu Lilai, 
 
 hat litt 
 
 IC IIIIKA., >V 
 
 ivh9 
 
PET BKGTNS HER EDUCATION. 
 
 193 
 
 1 
 
 had come there that day to throw the whole school in convul- 
 sions, was tlic cause of it all. 
 
 JUit even school-girls, with lungs, and throats, and faces 
 very often of brass, must get exhausted at last ; and after an 
 hour's steady screaming and yelling, the whole assemblage 
 shrieked, laughed and shouted themselves iucO hoarseness 
 and comparative quiet. 
 
 Pet, somewhat fatigued after her exertions, wms .seated in 
 the midst of a g-oupof girls, telling, in solemn tones, a 
 most awful •' raw-head and bloody bones " ghost-story, which 
 she " made up " as she went along, and which was destined 
 to deprive at least twenty little individuals of a wink of sleep 
 that night. 
 
 Every one was bending eagerly forward, listening breath- 
 lessly to Pet, who had just got " Jack " into the " haunted cas- 
 ile," and was announcing the coming of a "great big blacK 
 man, with red-hot coals for eyes, and flames of tire coming out 
 of his mouth," when a thin, sharp shadow fell over them, and, 
 looking up with a terrified start, they beheld Miss Sharpe 
 standing over them. 
 
 " What is she talking about now ? " queried that lady, 
 with no very amiable glances toward Pet. 
 
 '> She's telling a ghost story ; that's what she's talking 
 about!" said Pet, instantly beginning to be provoking. 
 
 " Ghosts 1 " said Miss Sharpe, turning up her nose though 
 nature had already saved her the trouble. " Such stuff I 
 You must not terrify the children by telling them such things, 
 little girl. " 
 
 " It's not stuff I " said Pet; " It's as true as preaching. 
 I've seen lots of ghosts myself. There, now I " 
 
 " Miss Lawless, do you know where little girls that tell 
 fibs go to ?" said Miss Sharpe, sternly. 
 
 " Yes, the same place you'll go to, I expect, " said Pet, 
 pertly; " but I ain't telling fibs— I never do. And I have 
 seen plenty of ghosts, too. There's a whole settlement of 
 them out where we live. I only wish I had brought some ct 
 them to school with me, and then you would sec. That's 
 all ! " 
 
 '•You na - ^hty little girl 1 " said Miss Sharpe, angrily. " How 
 dare vou i i me such a story ? You have seen ghosts, indeed I 
 Why, everybody knows there is no such thing." 
 
SBrir-rTorr 
 
 194 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 •' What do you bet there's not ?" said Pet. 
 
 •• Miss Lawless, you forj^et to whom you are speaking I" 
 said Miss Sharpe, with dignity. 
 
 " No, I don't ; I know very well to whom I am speak- 
 ing," said Pet, imitating her tone ; " and I know just as well 
 there are ghosts. They're great, tall, thin people, in white, 
 with hollow eyes, that come at midnight and scare people. 
 I've seen them, and 1 guess I ought to know." 
 
 Miss Sharpe, disdaining an altercation with the elf, who 
 was already bristling up in anticipation of a controversy, 
 turned and walked away majestically, or, at least, as majesti- 
 cally as her four feet eight inches would allow. 
 
 Pet looked after her with a boding eye that lold wonder- 
 ful tales, if she could only have read it ; but she contented 
 herself with mentally exclaiming: 
 
 "Oh, I'll dose youl Maybe you won't see a ghost to- 
 night, old Miss Vinegar." 
 
 " There, now, go on with the story," chorused half a dozen 
 voices, when Miss Sharpe was gone. 
 
 " See here," said Pet, without heeding the request, *' where 
 does she- Miss Sharpe I mean — sleep at night ? " 
 
 " With us," said one of the small girls, " in the children's 
 dormitory. The large girls have rooms to themselves, 
 every two of them ; but we sleep in a long room all full of 
 beds, and Miss Sharpe sleeps there, too." 
 
 " Hum-m-m 1 Do you know where I am to sleep?" 
 
 " Yes ; all Miss Sharpens division sleep in the children's 
 dormitory. You'll be there." 
 
 "Um-m-ml 1 should like to see the place. Would we 
 
 be let ? " . , . . ^. 
 
 " Oh, yes. If you can get one of the girls m the First 
 Division to go with you, she can take you all over the 
 
 house." 
 
 Off ran Pet, and without much difficulty she persuaded 
 one of the First Division girls to show her through the 
 
 house. 
 
 The first place they visited was the children's dormitory. 
 This was a long room, with rows of white-curtained beds on 
 either side for the children, and one larger than the rest, at 
 the turtner cnu, lui ^vnsa onaiuc. uiii«ii Ttt*.^i«v^>in«»ui> — •'-• 
 
 iViiss oiiaipc. 
 
PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 
 
 195 
 
 making I" 
 
 1 speak- 
 t as well 
 n white, 
 e people. 
 
 elf, who 
 
 troversy, 
 
 majesti- 
 
 wonder- 
 ontented 
 
 jhost to- 
 
 : a dozen 
 
 , " where 
 
 :hildren's 
 imselves, 
 all full of 
 
 )?" 
 :hildren*s 
 
 ^ould we 
 
 the First 
 over the 
 
 )ersuaded 
 rough the 
 
 lormitory. 
 1 beds on 
 le rest, at 
 
 mirrors were scattered around, and near each bed was placed 
 a small trunk belonging to the children. 
 
 Pet scanned these arrangements with a thoughtful eye. 
 Then, turning to her cicerone, she said : 
 " In which of the bods am I to sleep ? " 
 " In this one," said the girl, indicating one at the extreme 
 end of the room, opposite Miss Sharpe's. " The room was 
 full ; so they had to put it close to the window, and you will 
 have a chance to see everybody that passes." 
 
 Pet went over to examine. Within a few inches of the 
 bed was a window overlooking the street. It was partly 
 raised now, and Pet thrust her head out to " see what she 
 could see, " as they say . The first thing that struck her 
 was the fact t!iat the window was in a straight line above the 
 hall door, and only removed from it t!ie distance of a foot 
 or two. Instantly a demoniacal project of mischief flashed 
 across her fertile brain; and as she withdrew her head her 
 wicked eyes, under their long, drooping lashes, were fairly 
 scintillating with the anticipation of coming fun. 
 
 " Do they use bells or knockers 01 their doors, around 
 here ? " she carelessly asked, as she flitted about. 
 
 " Some use one, some the other. There is a large brass 
 knocker on this door. I am sure you must have seen it." 
 " I had forgotten. This is my trunk, isn't it ? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What time do they go to bed here ? " 
 "Nine in summer — eight in winter." 
 " Hum-m-m 1 I know now. And do they stay out in that 
 yard all the time ? " 
 
 " Oh, no. As soon as it gets dusk we come in, have sup- 
 per, and then the larger girls practice their music, or read, 
 or write to their friends or study, or sew, or do whatever they 
 like ; and the little girls of your division play about the halls 
 and passages." 
 
 " Um-m-m 1 I see,'* said Pet, in the same musing tone, 
 while her wicked eyes, under their long, dark lashes, were 
 twinkling with the very spirit of mischief. " Could you get 
 me a good long cord, do you think ? 1 want it for some- 
 thing." 
 
 " Yes, I think so. Do you want it now ? " 
 «* Yes, please." 
 
' i^km i*.g iwiji 
 
 *JwB-J-^. MTitJi-^'*^ 'J 
 
 196 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " Very well ; wait here till I go up to my room and get it 
 for you," said the unsuspecting young lady. 
 
 " Oh, ching-a-rirtg-a-ring-chaw ! " shouted Pet, dancing 
 round the long room with irrepressible glee, when she found 
 herself alone. " Oh, won't I have fun to-night 1 Won't I 
 .show them what spiritual rapping is 1 Won't there be weep- 
 ing and gnashing of teeth before morning 1 
 
 " ' Mrs. MacShuttle, 
 
 She lived in a scuttle, 
 Along with her dog and her cat.' " 
 
 sang the imp, seizing a huge pitcher from one of the wash- 
 stands and flourishing it over her head as she sung. Round 
 and round she whirled, until her pitcher came furiously 
 against the wall, and smash 1 in a thousand fragments it fell 
 on the floor. 
 
 Arrested in her dance. Firefly stood still one moment, in 
 dismay. Here was a winding-up of her extempore waltz 
 quite unlocked for. There on the floor lay the pitcher, 
 shivered into atoms, and there stood Pet, holding the handle 
 still, and glancing utterly aghast from the ruins on the floor 
 to the fragment of crockery in her hand. 
 
 " Whew 1 here's a go 1 " was the elegant expression first 
 jerked out of Pet by the exigency of the case. I expect this 
 pitcher's been in the establishment ever since it was an estab- 
 lishment, and would have been in it as much longer only for 
 me. Pet, child, look out 1 There'll be murder, distraction, 
 and a tearing off of our shirts 1 Fall of Jerusalem 1 won't 
 Miss Sharpe give me a blowing up. though ! " 
 
 " Oh, Miss Lawless ! what have you done ? " cried the 
 young lady, in tones of consternation, as she suddenly entered. 
 
 " Smashed the crockery," said Pet, coolly pointing to the 
 
 wreck. 
 
 "Oh, dear mel Oh, Miss Lawless! how could you do 
 
 so 
 
 > " 
 
 \\h 
 
 " Didn't go for to do it. Got smashed itself." 
 
 " Miss Sharpe will be very angry. Miss Lawless." 
 
 " Well, that don't worry me much," said Pet. 
 
 " I am afraid she will blame me. I should not have left 
 
 you here alone," said the young lady, twisting her fingers in 
 
 distress. 
 
PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 
 
 197 
 
 and get it 
 
 :, dancing 
 1 she found 
 I Won't I 
 re be weep- 
 
 f the wash- 
 g. Round 
 le furiously 
 nents it fell 
 
 moment, in 
 ipore waltz 
 ;he pitcher, 
 the handle 
 on the floor 
 
 ression first 
 expect this 
 
 ?asan estab- 
 
 ^er only for 
 distraction, 
 
 ilem I won't 
 
 " cried the 
 :nly entered, 
 nting to the 
 
 )uld you do 
 
 5S." 
 
 lot have left 
 er fingers in 
 
 « No, she won't. I'll send out and buy another one." 
 «'0h, you can't. The servants are not allowed to run 
 
 errands for the young ladies without permission from Mrs. 
 
 Moodie. You will have to tell Miss Sharpe." 
 
 " Well, come along them ; I'll tell her. Did you bring the 
 
 string?" 
 
 " Yes, here it is. Oh, Miss Lawless ! I am exceedmgly 
 
 sorry." 
 
 u Well — my goodness ! you needn't be. An old blue pitch- 
 er ! I used to throw half a dozen of them, every day, at the 
 servants, at home, and nobody ever made a fuss about it. 
 A common old blue pitcher — humph ! " 
 
 " Oh 1 but it was different at home. They were your own, 
 there ; and Miss Sharpe is so — queer. She will scold you 
 dreadfully." 
 
 " Well, so will I, then — there 1 I can scold as long and 
 as loud as she can, I reckon. An old blue pitcher ! Humph ! 
 Wish to gracious I had smashed the whole set, and made one 
 job of it." 
 
 By this time they had reached the playground ; and mak- 
 ing her way through the crowd, Pet marched resolutely up to 
 Miss Sharpe, -nd confronted that lady with an expression as 
 severe as thc.;^.i she were about to have her arrested for high 
 treason. 
 
 " Miss Sharpe, look here 1 " she began. " I've been up- 
 stairs and smashed old blue pitcher. There 1 " 
 
 " What ! " said Miss Sharpe, knitting her brows, and rather 
 at a loss. 
 
 "Miss Lawless was in the children's dormitory, Miss 
 Sharpe," explained the girl who had been Pet's guide. " and 
 she accidentally broke one of the pitchers. She could not 
 help it, I assure you." 
 
 " But I know she could help it," screamed Miss Sharpe. 
 " She has done it on purpose, just to provoke me. Oh, you 
 little limb you 1 — you unbearable little mischief-maker 1 You 
 deserve to be whipped till you can't stand." 
 
 " See here, Miss Sharpe ; you'll be hoarse pretty soon, if 
 you keep screaming that way," said Pet, calmly. 
 
 " I'll go and tell Mrs. Moodie. I'll go this minute. Such 
 conduct as this, you'll see, will not be tolerated here," shrieked 
 the exasperated lady, shaking her fist furiously at Pet. 
 
u^mui^..' aSs^ ^-■■.,^iJttm»iim:. ' ./-.vt^' 
 
 ^ :SM.MC»'r 
 
 198 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " Mrs. Moodie has gone out," said one of the girls. 
 
 " Then I'll tell her to-morrow. I'll—" 
 
 Here the loud ringing of a bell put a stop to further decla- 
 mation, and the girls all flew, flocking in, and marched, two 
 by two, into another large room, where a long supper-table 
 was laid out. 
 
 It was almost dark when the evening meal was over. Then 
 the larger girls dispersed themselves to their various avo- 
 cations, and the younger ones, under the care of a gentler 
 monitor than Miss Sharpe, raced about the long halls and 
 passages, and up and down-stairs. 
 
 Now was the time Pet had been waiting for. Gliding un- 
 observed, up-stairs, she entered the dormitory, and securing 
 one end of the string to the bed-post, let the remainder drop 
 out of the window. Then returning down-stairs, she passed 
 unnoticed through the front hall, and finally secured the other 
 end of the string to the knocker of the door. It was too 
 dark, as she knew, for any to observe the cord in opening the 
 door. 
 
 This done, she returned to her companions, all aglow with 
 delight at her success so far ; and instigated by her, the din 
 and uproar soon grew perfectly unbearable, and the whole 
 phalanx were ordered off to bed half an hour earlier than 
 usual, to get rid of the noise. 
 
 As Judge Lawless had said, it was a rigidly strict establish- 
 ment ; and the rule was that, at half-past nine, every light 
 should be extinguished, and all should be safely tucked up 
 in bed. Even Mrs. Moodie herself was no exception to this 
 rule ; for, either thinking example better than precept, or 
 being fond of sleeping, ten o'clock always found her in the 
 arms of Morpheus. 
 
 Therefore, at ten o'clock, silence, and darkness, and slum- 
 ber, hung over the establishment of Mrs. Moodie. In the 
 children's dormitory, nestling in their white-draped beds, the 
 little tired pupils were sleeping the calm, quiet sleep of 
 childhood, undisturbed by feverish thoughts or gloomy fore- 
 bodings of the morrow. Even Miss Sharpe had testily per- 
 mitted herself to fall stiffly asleep, and lay with her mouth 
 open, stretched out as straight as a ramrod, and about as 
 grim. All were asleep — all but one. 
 
 One wicked, curly, mischief-brewing little head there was 
 
iris. 
 
 rther decla- 
 irched, two 
 apper- table 
 
 ^er. Then 
 
 irious avo- 
 
 [ a gentler 
 
 halls and 
 
 jliding un- 
 id securing 
 inder drop 
 she passed 
 d the other 
 ;t was too 
 opening the 
 
 aglow with 
 
 er, the din 
 
 the whole 
 
 arlier than 
 
 t establish- 
 every light 
 tucked up 
 ion to this 
 precept, or 
 her in the 
 
 , and slum- 
 ie. In the 
 d beds, the 
 t sleep of 
 loomy fore- 
 testily per- 
 her mouth 
 id about as 
 
 . there was 
 
 PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 
 
 199 
 
 by far too full of naughty thoughts to sleep. Pet, nestling 
 on her pillow, was actually quivering with suppressed delight 
 
 at the coming fun. , , . . 
 
 '.e heard ten o'clock— eleven strike, and then she got up 
 i -ed and commenced operations. Her first care was to 
 ileal softly to one of the washstands, and thoroughly wet a 
 sponge, which she placed on the window-ledge within her 
 reach, knowing she would soon have occasion to use it. 
 
 Taking some phosphureted ether, which she had procured 
 for the purpose of " fun " before leaving home, she rubbed 
 it carefully over her face and hands. • , 1, • 
 
 Reader, did you ever see any one in the dark with their 
 faces and hands rubbed over with phosphureted ether ? look- 
 ing as though they were all on fire— all encircled by flames ? 
 If you have, then you know how our Pet looked then. 
 
 Sitting there, a frightful object to contemplate, she waited 
 impatiently for the hour of midnight to come. 
 
 The clock struck twelve, at last ; the silence was so pro- 
 found that the low, soft breathing of the >oung sleepers around 
 her could be plainly heard. In her long, flowing night-wrap- 
 per, Pet got up and tiptoed softly across the room to the bed 
 where the cross she-dragon lay. ,. , * 
 
 Now, our Pet never thought there could be the .slightest 
 danger in what she was about to do, or, wild as she was, she 
 would most assuredly not have done it. She merely wished 
 to frighten Miss Sharpe for her obstinacy, unbelief in ghosts 
 and crossness, and never gave the matter another thought. 
 Therefore, though it was altogether an inexcusable trick, 
 still Pet was not so very much to blame as may at first ap- 
 pear. 
 
 Now she paused for a moment to contemplate the sour, 
 grim-looking sleeper— thinking her even more repulsive in 
 sleep than when awake ; and then laying one hand on her 
 face, she uttered a low, hollow groan, destined for her ears 
 
 alone. , j- 
 
 Miss Sharpe, awakened from a deep sleep by the disagree- 
 able and startling consciousness of an icy-cold hand on her 
 face, started up in affright, and then she beheld an awful 
 vision ! A white specter by her bedside, all in fire, with 
 flames encircling,' face and hands, and sparks of fire seeming- 
 ly darting from eyes and mouth 1 
 
•-tttjum,. 
 
 200 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 lit 
 
 For one terrible moment she was unable to utter a sound 
 for utter, unspeakable horror. Then, with one wild piercing 
 shriek, she buried her head under the clothes, to shut out the 
 awful specter. Such a shriek as it was ! No hyena, no 
 screech-owl, no peacock ever uttered so ear-splitting throat- 
 rending a scream as that. No word or words in the whole 
 English language can give the faintest idea of that terrible 
 screech. Before its last vibration had died away on the air. 
 every sleeper in the establishment, including madame herself, 
 had sprung out of bed, and stood pale and trembling, listen- 
 ing for a repetition of that awful cry. From twenty beds in 
 the dormitory, twenty little sleepers sprung, and immediately 
 began to make night hideous with small editions of Miss 
 Sharpe's shriek. Gathering strength from numbers, twenty 
 voices rose an octave higher at every scream, and yell, 
 after yell, in the shrillest soprano, pierced the air, although 
 not one of them had the remotest idea of what it was all 
 about. 
 
 At the first alarm, Firefly had flitted swiftly and fleetly 
 across the room, jumped into bed, and seizing the sponge, 
 gave her face and hands a vigorous rubbing; and now stood 
 screammg with the rest, not to say considerably louder than 
 any of them. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Sharpe, get up ! the house is on fire I we're all 
 murdered m our beds !" yelled Pet, going over and catching 
 that lady by the shoulder with a vigorous shake 
 
 And "Oh, Miss Sharpe 1 Oh, Miss Sharpe 1 Get up. 
 Oh-oh-oh 1" shrieked the terrified children, clustering round 
 the bed, and those who could springing in and shakin<^ 
 her. *' 
 
 With a disagreeable sense of being half crushed to death, 
 Miss Sharpe was induced to remove her head from under the 
 clothes, and cast a quick, terrified glance around. But the 
 coast was clea: —the awful specter was gone. 
 
 And now another noise met her ears— the coming footsteps 
 of every one within the walls of the establishment, from Mrs 
 Moodie down to the little maid-of -all-work in the kitchen. 
 In they rushed, armed with bedroom-candlesticks, rulers, ink- 
 bottles, slate-frames, and various other warlike weaDons. nre- 
 pared to do battle to the last gasp. 
 
 And then it was: "Oh, what on earth is the matter? 
 
PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 
 
 20I 
 
 What on earth is the matter ? What is the matter ? " from 
 
 every lip. 
 
 Miss Sharpe sprung out of bed and fled in terror to the 
 side of Mrs. Moodie. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Moodie, it was awful 1 Oh, it was dreadful 1 
 With flames of fire coming out of its mouth, and all dressed 
 in white. Oh, it was terrible 1 Ten feet high and all in 
 flames 1 " shrieked Miss Sharpe, like one demented. 
 
 " Miss Sharpe, what in the name of Heaven is all this 
 about? "asked the startled Mrs. Moodie, while the sixty 
 " young ladies " clung together, white with mortal fear. 
 
 '• Oh, Mrs. Moodie, I've seen it 1 It was frightful 1 all in 
 flames of fire ! " screamed the terrified Miss Sharpe. 
 
 " Seen it 1 seen what ? Explain yourself. Miss Sharpe." 
 " Oh, it was a ghost 1 a spirit ! a demon I a fiend I I felt 
 its blazing hands cold as ice on my face. Oh, good 
 Heaven ! " And again Miss Sharpe's shriek at the recollec- 
 tion resounded through the room. 
 
 " Blazing hands cold as ice 1 Miss Sharpe, you are crazy I 
 Calm yourself, I command you, and explain why we are all 
 roused out of our beds at this hour of night by your shrieks," 
 said Mrs. Moodie, fixing her sharp eyes steadily upon 
 her. 
 
 That look of rising anger brought Miss Sharpe to her 
 senses. Wringing her hands, she cried out : 
 
 " Oh, I saw a ghost, Mrs. Moodie ; an awful ghost 1 It 
 came to my bedside all on fire, and — " 
 
 " A ghost 1 nonsense, Miss Sharpe 1 " broke out the now 
 thoroughly enraged Mrs. Moodie, as she caught Miss 
 Sharpe by the shoulder, and shook her soundly. " You 
 have been dreaming ; you have had the nightmare ; you are 
 crazy ! A pretty thing, indeed ! that the whole house is to be 
 aroused and terrified in this way. I am ashamed of you, Miss 
 Sharpe, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to terrify 
 those little children committed to your charge in this manner. 
 I never heard of anything so abominable in my life before, " 
 said the angry Mrs. Moodie. 
 
 " Oh, indeed, indeed I saw it 1 Oh, indeed, indeed I did 1 " 
 protested Miss Sharpe, wringing her hands. 
 
 '*' Silence, Miss Sharpe i don t make a fool of yourself 1 
 I'm surprised at you 1 a woman of your years giving way to 
 
 i 
 
•-1I %ar% 
 
 202 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 h 
 
 such silly fancies. You saw it, indeed I A nice 'eacher y(»^ 
 are to watch young children 1 Return to your beds, yourg 
 ladies ; and do you, Miss Sharpe, return to yours ; and don't let 
 me ever hear anything more about ghosts, or I shall instanl'y 
 dismiss you. Ghosts, indeed 1 you're a downright fool, 
 Miss Sharpe— that's what you are ! " exclaimed the exas- 
 perated lady. 
 
 But even the threat of dismissal could not totally overcome 
 Miss Sharpe's fears now, and catching hold of Mrs. Moodie's 
 night-robe as she was turning away, she wildly exclaimed : 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Moodie, let us have a light in the room for 
 this night at least ! I cannot sleep a wink unless you do." 
 
 " Miss Sharpe, hold your tongue 1 Do you see how you 
 have frightened these children ? Go to bed and mind your 
 business. Young ladies, I think I told you before to go to 
 your rooms— did I not ? " said Mrs. Moodie, with still in- 
 creasing anger. 
 
 Tren.bling and terrified, the girls scampered like frightened 
 doves back to their nests ; and Mrs. Moodie, outraged and in- 
 dignant, tramped her way to the bed she had so lately vacated, 
 niwardly vowing to discharge Miss Sharpe as soon as ever 
 she could get another to take her place. 
 
 And then the children in the dormitory crept shivering 
 into bed, and wrapped their heads up in the bedclothes, 
 trembling at every sound. And Miss Sharpe, quivering in 
 dread, shrunk into the smallest possible space in hers, and 
 having twisted herself into a round ball under the quilts, 
 tightly shut her eyes, and firmly resolved that nothing in the 
 earth, or in the waters under the earth, should make her open 
 those eyes again that night. And our wicked Firefly chuck- 
 ling inwardly over the success of her plot, jumped into hers, 
 thinking of the fun yet to come. 
 
 An hour passed. One o'clock struck ; then two, before 
 sleep- began to visit the drowsy eyelids of the roused slum- 
 berers again. Having assured herself that they had really 
 fallen asleep at last, Pet sat up in bed softly, opened the win- 
 dow an inch or two, screened from view — had any one been 
 watching her, which there was not— by the white curtains 
 of the bed. 
 
 Then lying composedly back on her pillow, she took hold 
 of her string, and began pulling away. 
 
PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 303 
 
 Knock 1 knock I knock 1 knock! Rap I rapl rapl rapl 
 
 ""^ The clamor was deafening ; the music was awful at that si- 
 l.n^ hour o7 the nght. Up and down the huge brass knock- 
 If thundered waking a peal of echoes that rung and rung 
 
 ''once IglinT house was aroused ; once again every sleep- 
 er?prun?out of bed, in terror, wonder, and consternation 
 
 .< Oh holy saints 1 what is that ? Oh good heavens 1 what 
 can that be at this time? " came simultaneously from every 
 
 ^^\nockl knock 1 knock! Rapl rapl rapl louder and 
 
 ^"^ Eve^' drl flitted from her room, and a universal rush was 
 madef^rfhe apartments of Mrs. Moodie-all but the mmates 
 ^f the dormitory. Miss Sharpe was too terrified to stir, and 
 1 chtldrTf Slowing her lead, contented themselves with 
 lying stm, aid renewing their screams where they had left 
 
 %^f Mrsl^M^odi^ 1^^^^^^^^^ out, and en- 
 
 -r^Mr: I^S^i^rC Cen'd to-night ? We 
 -^^^^k^Sik^'kS^kSrknock. The clamor 
 
 ^^.! ttaTb'etter open the door, or they will break it down 1" 
 
 said Mrs. Moodie, her teeth chattering ^^f^^^^J ?,^-^^„^,3tec 
 " Send for Bridget ; she is afraid of nothing ! suggestec 
 
 in the door. knocking instantly 
 
 Back she swung it with a J^'^f* ^^^^^''Ig.^led with a 
 ceased Up flew the poker, and down it descenaea wiu 
 ceasea. ^y "^ r^ T-up^p was ro ntiC there 1 
 
 whack, upon— vacancy » ^"^re was n .^ , . ^ Bridget, 
 '« The Lord be between us an' harm I exclaimea unug , 
 
-.«i>st»«"- 
 
 smartrwrar 
 
 904 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 r 
 
 im. 
 
 recoiling back. " The divil a one's there, good, bad, or in- 
 aiffennt! 
 
 " They must have run away when you opened the door I " 
 said Mrs. Moodie, in trembling tones. " There is certainly 
 some one there I " ' ' 
 
 Bridget descended the steps, and looked up and down the 
 street ; but all was silent, lonely, and deserted— not a livinff 
 creature was to be seen. 
 
 "Come in, and lock the door," said the appalled Mrs. 
 Moodie. " What in the name of Heaven could it have been ? " 
 " Oh, the house is haunted I— the house is haunted 1 " came 
 from the white lips of the young ladies. <' Oh,Mrs. Moodie 1 
 do not ask us to go back to our rooms. We dare not. Let 
 us stay with you until morning ! " 
 
 " Very well," said Mrs. Moodie, not sorry to have company • 
 " come into my room. Bridget, bring lights." ' 
 
 The door was unlocked. The friglSened girls hustled 
 pale, and frightened, and shivering with superstition, awe and 
 undehned apprehension, into Mrs. Moodie's room ; whil^ 
 that lady herself, crouching in their midst, was scarcely less 
 terrified than they. Bridget brought in lights ; and their 
 coming renewed the courage the darkness had totally 
 q^iCnched. ^ 
 
 " Now, Mistress Moodie, ma'am," said Bridget, crossing 
 her arms with grim determination, " I'm goin' to sit at that 
 door till mornin', if its plazin'to ye, and if thim blackguardly 
 spalpeens comes knockin' dacint people out av their beds 
 ag'in, be this an' that, I'll I've the mark of me five fingers on 
 thim, as sure as my name's Biddy Malone !" 
 
 " Very well, Bridget," said Mrs. Moodie. " It may be some 
 wickedly-disposed person wishing to frighten the young 
 ladies ; and if it is, the heaviest penalties of the law shall be 
 inflicted on them." 
 
 Arming herself with the poker, Bridget softly turned the 
 key in the door, and laid her hand on the lock, ready to open 
 it at a second's notice. 
 
 Scarcely had she taken her stand, when knock ! knock 1 
 It began again ; but the third rap was abruptly cut short by 
 her^ violently jerking the door open, and lifting the poker for 
 a blow that would have done honor to Donnybrook Fair. 
 But a second time it fell, with a loud crack, upon— nothing l 
 
 i 
 
bad, or in- 
 
 le door I " 
 s certainly 
 
 I down the 
 Dt a living 
 
 illed Mrs. 
 ve been ? " 
 dl " came 
 . Moodie I 
 not. Let 
 
 company ; 
 
 Is hustled, 
 I, awe and 
 in ; while 
 ircely less 
 and their 
 id totally 
 
 , crossing 
 sit at that 
 :kguardly 
 leir beds 
 fingers on 
 
 ■ be some 
 
 le young 
 I shall be 
 
 irned the 
 y to open 
 
 1 knock I 
 short by 
 poker for 
 >ok Fair, 
 ■nothing I 
 
 
 PET BEGINS HER EDUCATION. 205 
 
 Far or near, not a soul was to be seen. Bridget was dis- 
 mayed. For the first time in her life, a sensation of terror 
 filled her brave Irish heart. Slamming the door violently o, 
 she locked it again, and rushed with open eyes and mouth, 
 into the room where the terror-stricken mistress and pupils 
 sat terrified with fear. . , , 1 
 
 -Faith, it s the divil himself that's at it 1 Lord, pardon me 
 for namin' him 1 Och, holy martyrs 1 look down or, us this 
 night for a poor, disconsolate set ov craythers, and the Cross 
 of" Christ be between us and all harm 1 " 
 
 A^ d dropping a little bob of a courtesy. Bridge devoutly 
 cut the sigA of The cross on her forehead with her thumb. 
 
 Unable to speak or move with terror, mistress, pupils and 
 servants crouched together, longing and praying wildly for 
 
 "" a" ain t'he'knSking commenced, and continued, withotvt in- 
 terml sion, for one whole mortal hour. Even the neighbors 
 bJ^n to be alarmed at the unusual din, and windows were 
 opened, and night-capped heads thrust out to see who it was 
 Xo knocked sS inces 'antly. Three o'clock struck, and then 
 Pet beginning to feel terribly sleepy, and quite sa isfied with 
 the fun she IkkI had all night, cut the cord, and drew it up. 
 The clamors, of course, instantly ceased ; and five minutes 
 after, Firefly, the wicked cause of all this trouble, was peace- 
 
 '"If nother eye in the house was destined to close that 
 ni^^ht-or rathei-: morning. Huddled together below, the 
 fri^rhtened flock waited for the first glimpse of morning sun- 
 li..ht, thinking all the while that never was there a night so 
 long as that Up in the children's dormitory, al -from 
 M fs Sharpe downward-lay in a cold perspiration of dread 
 trembling to stay where they were, yet not daring to get up 
 and join their companions below. ,r 1 1 ^ ;f T 
 
 " I'll never stay another night m this dreadful place it 1 
 only live to see morning! " was the inward exclamation of 
 every teacher and pupil who could by any means eaye. 
 
 And so, in sleepless watchfulness, the dark, silent hours 
 of morning wore on ; and the first bright ray of another 
 dav's sunlight streaming in through the windows never be- 
 h'dan a-.mbla^e of paler or more terrified faces than 
 were gathered together in the establishment of Mrs. Moodie. 
 
nmsr 
 
 •"•• ki«M 
 
 so6 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 CHAPTER XXH. 
 
 PET FINISHES HER EDUCATION. 
 
 " And her brow cleared, but not her dauntless eye • ' 
 The wind was down, but jtill the sea ran high." 
 
 —Don Juan. 
 
 Accustomed to early rising from her infancy, the first 
 beam of morning sunshine found Pet out of bed, and dressed. 
 
 The other gn-ls, with Miss Sharpe, were up, too, hastily 
 throwing on their clothes, and looking pale, haggard and 
 worn, from the previous night's excitement and want of 
 
 _ Quivering with the remembrance of last night's frolic and 
 the terror and consternation that would follow it to-dav Pet 
 stood before the mirror bathing her hands and face, 'and 
 curling her short, boyish, black ringlets. 
 
 The others did not wait for this, but as soon as they 
 were dressed made a grand rush for the lower rooms, 
 where they knew the remainder of the household were as- 
 sembled. And here they found them, still in their night- 
 robes just beginning to find their tongues, and venturing to 
 
 rnnir'' • 1 I '^'"•"^ ^^^"^^ °^ ^^^ P^^^i^^s night. Pet- 
 ronilla, with her keen sense of the ludicrous, had much ado 
 
 %r\ZlJ'T '^"S'?'"g outright at their wild eyes and 
 affrighted whispers, but drawing her face down to the length 
 
 termor o'!,' '^^}^^^^^ ^'''^y ^^ volubly as any of them of her 
 take Lr ? r' protesting she would write to her papa to 
 
 haun pH I '""' °V'''?' '^' ^^'"'"'^ accustomed to living in 
 the vol rr;- ^' "''' becoming aware of their ^..^^l;//., 
 the young ladies decamped ujvstairs to don more be- 
 
 lZruLl7."T\'''''^ ''\^ °^^^' '" '^' P"^^^y °f their own 
 apartments, the ghost and the mysterious rapping. 
 
 with '?h. ° ' '''Tf''.^ ^'^' P'-esence of mind and dignity, 
 ha^'nf the 3?-^ of daylight, resolved to lose no time Tn 
 naxmg the maitci luily investigated. Her first act was to 
 
neir own 
 
 PET FINISHES HER EDUCATION. 207 
 
 /uf.'^he house searched from top to bottom, and the young 
 u. willingly engaging in the search, every corner, cranny 
 a crevice, fron, tltic to cellar, was thoroughly •-•xa'n.ned 
 IHd a needle been lost it must have been found, but no 
 trice of last night's visitor could be discovered. 
 
 <'Oh, it's nS use looking; it was a ghost 1" exclaimed 
 
 ''^n^';'^rit was a ghost 1 It must have been a ghost 1 " 
 echoed all the young ladies simultaneously 
 
 - But ghosts always come m though a key-hole-a lea.t 
 the ghosfs up our way do," said Pet; "so where was the use 
 of its knocking and making such a fuss last night. 
 
 No one felt themselves qualified to answer the questions 
 ,0 the hunt was given over, and the hunters, in niuch dis- 
 order, were told they might amuse themselves in the p ay 
 ground that morning, instead of reciting, '^^^/^^"^ ' ^^.';*: 
 teachers did not feel themselves able to pursue their custo- 
 rSary -wocations until some light had been thrown upon the 
 
 "" Then Mrs. Moodie put on her bonnet and shawl, and went 
 out without any definite object in view ""^^^^^ '^J^.^^^^ ^^";^ 
 if the ghost had left any clue to its whereabouts on the street 
 As a very natural consequence, her eye turned upon the 
 huge brass knocker that had been so m^t^"";^"^^^ '" '^f 
 niglit's din ; and from it, to her surprise, she beheld a long 
 sto'utcord dangling. Petronilla, of course »" cu tmg the 
 string, could not reach down to sever it, and a half-yard 01 
 so still waved in triumph in the morning air. 
 
 Mrs. Moodie, though a fine lady, was sharp and w de 
 awake," and in this cord she perceived some clue to the 
 affair if the previous night. As she ^^lU gazed on it n the 
 same way as a detective might, at the evidence o some se 
 rret crime the young girl who had given Pet the cord 
 ;;:led rough .L Ji fnd paused to look at the open door 
 which Mrs. Moodie was so intently surveying. ""^^ ^f J^^ 
 on the cord ; she started, took a step forward, looking puz- 
 zled and surprised. . , . , 
 
 .< It was no spirit, you see, that was rapping last night 
 Miss Hughes," said Mrs. Moodie, sharply ;" this cord has 
 had something to do with it." _ _ „ ^^.^ ^^^ 
 
 " Why, that cord is mine — ui lain^i .^f*-, j .-r* 
 
 M 
 
Txyr 
 
 3o8 
 
 THK GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 .^! 
 
 for 
 
 lady, examinmg >t; "we used to use it in our room 
 hangmg pocket-handkerchiefs and collars to dry on '' 
 
 ^^ yours, Miss Hughes," said Mrs. Moodie, facing round 
 with an angry light rising in her eyes. ^ ^ 
 
 nnni!^ T' ".""''. "'^'?^"' ' ^ ^^^^ '^ ^^'^ evening to the new 
 pupil, Miss L.jwless. ' ** 
 
 " To Miss l.avtless ?" 
 J^ ^t"' 1'"'''*'^' '^''^" "^^ "^^'^ '" t'^e dormitory last night 
 
 :!^-r:^i.';:/cuur i^e '^' ^ '^--^^^ ^- ^^^^' ^-^"^- 
 
 " What did Miss Lawless want of it-do you know > " 
 
 it can t^got i;:rL''" ''' "°^ ^'^^' '^ '^ '"^^ ^^-"^^ ^^o- 
 A new light suddenly flashed through the mind of Mrs 
 Moodie. She recollected what Pet's father haTltoklh.r.; 
 the mischief-loving propensities of tljyoung ady Vh 
 
 glanced up at the window beside Pefs bed, and inst- tanp. 
 ously the whole truth dawned upon her. ^n^t- -^ane- 
 
 And then a change most wonderful to see came rvpr tha 
 features of Mrs. Moodie. Dark and stern and detemned 
 
 rtt/;;nt^th7hc:r^°^' -^^^^ ^'^ -^--^ -^^^ 
 
 teaXrs\n^"n'''i''?''' ^^''^^ ^^rtly, "go and tell all the 
 
 think Jh-T^f to assemble in the school-room at once. 
 
 I^t^hink I have found out the origin of the disturbance 
 
 Wondering and perplexed, Miss Hughes went and de- 
 livered her message ; and on fire with eager cuHos ty a un^ 
 iversal rush was made for the ,/asse, and in silen expectation 
 they waited for the coming of Mrs. Moodie ^^P^^^'-^^'^" 
 
 fh.; , ^ not long to wait. With a hard, metallic tramp 
 
 that announced her state of mind, that lady rustled in Tnd 
 in ominous silence took her seat, motioning the Xrs to re 
 sume theirs with a wave of her hand 
 
 her^'tiff X'^f '''"' "P^'i.'^"'" '" ^'^^"t ^^^' as they noticed 
 IJk. ! N ^i sternness. Her eye passed over the rest and 
 bke a hound scenting nis prey, fixed itself piercingly on 
 
 " come'L^'"^^^^^ '''^' ^" ^^*^^"^' "measured tone, 
 
PET FINISHEwS HER EDUCATION. 200 
 
 "Stars and stripes! "' ejaculated Pet, inwardly, as she 
 rose to obey ; " can she have found me out so soon ? Oh, 
 Pet Lawless, m^ybe you ain't in for i. now 1 " 
 
 All eyes werr now turned in • k' ' amazement on Pet. 
 Slowly Mrs. M-.odie tluust her hand in her pocket, sull 
 -.lernly iransfixuu: Pet with her eyes, and drew out— a piece 
 
 of cord I , , J. 
 
 At the sight rill Pet's ,: nbts were removed ; sh' was dis- 
 covered. Then all personal apprehensions vanished, her 
 perverse spirit rose, and bold, dauntless and daring she 
 stood before her stern judge— her straight, lithe form de- 
 fiantly erect, her malicious black eyes dancing with fun. 
 
 " Miss Lawless, do you know anything of this ? " demanded 
 Mrs. Moodie, holding it up. ■ , , 
 
 " Slightly acquainted," said Pet ; " saw it last night for 
 
 the first time." 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to state for what purpose you 
 
 borrowed it ? " 
 
 " Yes'm, to have some fun with." 
 
 " Fun ! pray be a little more explicit. Miss Lawless. Was 
 it you that tied it to the door, last night ? " 
 
 " Yes'm." 
 
 " And by that means vou knocked at thi door, and cre- 
 ated all the alarm and confusion that so terrified us all," 
 said Mrs.Moodie with a rapidly darkening brow. 
 
 " Yes'm," said Pet, loudly, nothing daunte 1. 
 
 A low murmur of surprise and horror, a^ this atrocious 
 confession ran round the room. 
 
 "Ant' what was your design in thus throwing the house- 
 hold into terror and consternation. Miss Lawle; s? " 
 
 " I told you before— just for fun," said Pet, rx^olly, 
 
 Mrs. Moodie compressed her lips, and thougii her sallow 
 face was dark with suppressed anger, she remaii ed outward- 
 ly calm. Low murmurs of amazement, anger and indig- 
 nation ran through the room ; but Pet stood uuight, bold 
 and defiant before them all, as though she had d ne nothing 
 whatever to be ashamed of. • 1 • 1 
 
 " Perhaps, then, since you are so fond of practical jokes, 
 you were the ghost Miss Sharpe saw, likewise,' said Mrs. 
 Moodie. 
 
 " Yes, I was," said Pet, darting a flashing glan. a at that 
 
• Ut !&ill i' 9 ^Wlt 
 
 '31 wn 
 
 2IO 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 lady, who sat listening, with hand and eyes uplifted in hor- 
 ror. 
 
 " No, she wasn't," said Miss Sharpe ; " the one I saw 
 was all on fire." 
 
 " Silence, Miss Sharpe ! leave the matter to me," said 
 Mrs. Moodie, sternly. Then turning to Pet : " Since yoo 
 are so candid, Miss Lawless, will you inform me in what 
 manner you rendered yourself so frightful an object ? " 
 
 " Yes, it was easy enough," said Pet. " I just rubbed 
 some phosphureted ether on my hands and face. It shone 
 in the dark and scared her ; and that was all I wanted." 
 
 A profound silence for one moment reigned throughout 
 the room. Every one sat, overwhelmed, looking at each 
 other as though unable to credit what they heard. 
 
 " And what evil motive had you in terrifying us so ? " 
 resumed Mrs. Moodie, after a pause. 
 
 " I hadn't any evil motive. I just wanted fun, I tell you. 
 Papa sent me here, and I didn't want to come, but I had to ; 
 so, as it was horrid dull here, I thought I'd just amuse my- 
 self scaring you all, and I can't see where was the harm 
 either 1 I've always been used to do as I like, and this 
 ain't no circumstance to what's to come next ! " And Pet's 
 flashing eyes blazed open defiance. 
 
 Mrs. Moodie rose from her seat, her sallow complexion 
 almost white with anger, her sharp eyes bright with an an- 
 gry light. 
 
 " Some one else will have a voice in this matter. Miss 
 Lawless. Had I been aware of the sort of girl you were, 
 rest assured that, much as I respect your father, you should 
 never have entered here. In all my experience it has never 
 been my misfortune to encounter so much depravity in one 
 so young. I shall instantly write to your father to come and 
 take you home, for no inducement could persuade me to 
 allow you to become a member of this establishment. You 
 will consider yourself expelled. Miss Lawless, and must 
 leave the house as soon as your father can come to take you 
 home." 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I'm glad of it," said Pet, impatiently ; 
 ** for of all the stupid old holes I ever saw, this is the worst I 
 I wouldn't be paid to stay here — no, not if you were to 
 make me President to-morrow for it." 
 
one I saw 
 
 And Pet's 
 
 PET FINISHES HER EDUCATION. 211 
 
 «« No such inducement is likely to be offered, Miss Law- 
 less. Your presence here, I can assure you, is not coveted. 
 Miss Sharpe, take this young lady to one of the spare 
 rooms, and remain there to watch her until her father comes 
 and removes her. Young ladies, you will now resume your 
 studies as usual." 
 
 And with a frigid bow, Mrs. Moodie swept from the room, 
 leaving all behind her lost in a maze of wonder and indig- 
 nation. . . , 
 
 Miss Sharpe, with her little eyes glistenmg, approached 
 and took Pet by the shoulder, to lead her from the room, 
 but Pet angrily jerked herself free from her hated touch, 
 
 and exclaimed : , , i- 
 
 "Let me alone 1 I can walk without your help. Oo 
 ahead and I'll follow, but keep your hands to yourself." 
 
 Miss Sharpe, finding herself foiled even in the moment 
 of victory, walked sullenly on, and Pet, with head up and 
 elbows squared, tripped after her to the solitude of " one of 
 the spare rooms," where every amusement was debarred her 
 but that of making faces at Miss Sharpe. 
 
 An hour after, a long epistle, detailing in glowmg colors 
 Pet's wicked actions of the night before, was dispatched by 
 Mrs. Moodie to Judge Lawless. 
 
 The result of it was, that the evening of the second day 
 after, that gentleman arrived, nearly beside himself with rage. 
 Then Mrs. Moodie recapitulated the whole affair, and 
 ended by protesting that no amount of money could prevail 
 upon her to keep so vicious a child in her school another 
 day. All her pupils would become depraved by her ex- 
 ample ; and the result would be, their parents would take 
 them home, and thus she would lose her school. Judge 
 Lawless haughtily replied she need be under no apprehen- 
 sion, for he would instantly take his daughter home. 
 
 Pet was accordingly dressed, her baggage packed up, and 
 brought down to her father. 
 
 With all her boldness she yielded for a moment as she 
 met his eye. But without one single word of comment, he 
 motioned her to precede him into the carriage ; and in si- 
 lence they started. 
 
 During the whole journey home, the judge never con- 
 descended to open his mouth or address her a single word. 
 
 Ill 
 
»<&•»)& 
 
 Tor 
 
 -3Awn 
 
 212 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 Pet, just as well pleased to be left to herself, leaned back in 
 the carriage to meditate new mischief when she would get 
 home. 
 
 But Miss Petronilla Lawless soon found she was not quite 
 so much her own mistress as she thought. 
 
 The evening of the second day brought them to Judes- 
 town. As they passed the village, entered the forest road, 
 and came within sight of old Barrens Cottage, Pet began to 
 think of Ray and wonder how he was, and if it would be 
 safe to ask her father to let her go in and see. 
 
 One glance at that gentleman's face, however, convinced 
 her that it would not be safe, and that prudence was by far 
 the safest plan just then. Hoping Erminie might be at the 
 door a^ she passed, she thrust her head out of the carriage 
 window, when her father silently caught her by the shoulder, 
 pulled her back with no gentle hand, and shut down the 
 blind. 
 
 Then the very demon of defiance sprung into the eyes of 
 of the elf; and facing round, she was about to begin a 
 harangue more spirited then respectful ; but something in 
 the cold, stern, steely eye bent on her quenched the indig- 
 nant light in her own and she sulkily relapsed into silence, 
 thinking a " dumb devil " would be more agreeable to her 
 father just then than a talking one. 
 
 Ranty was out on the veranda, walking up and down with 
 his hands in his pockets and whistling " Yankee Doodle." 
 Pet favored him with a nod as she tripped into the house, 
 while Ranty's eyes grew as large as two full moons in hif; 
 amazement. Darting after her, he caught her by the arm as 
 she was entering the door and exclaimed : 
 
 " I say. Pet ; what in the world brings you home again ? 
 I thought you were gone to school 1 " 
 
 " So I was." 
 
 " Then why are you here ? " 
 
 " Finished my education. Told you I would in a week," 
 said Pet, with a nod. 
 
 " Randolph, go off and mind your business, sir," exclaimed 
 his father, sternly. " Here — this way, youy 
 
 So saying he caught Pet by the shoulder, and uncere- 
 moniously drew her after him, upstairs into the library. 
 Then shutting the door, he threw himself into his arm-chair. 
 
 LiXiaatiifa-iiig'H'iii m 
 
PET FINISHES HER EDUCATION. 213 
 
 and folding his arms across his chest, favored Pet with an 
 
 awful look. , . , , . 1 
 
 Miss Lawless, standing erect before him, bore this appal- 
 ling stare without blushing. 
 
 " Well, and what do you think of yourself now, Miss Pet- 
 ronilla Lawless," was the first question he deigned to ask her 
 since their meeting, 
 
 " Just what I did before," said Pet, nothing daunted. 
 
 " And what may that be, pray ? " said her father, with an 
 
 icy sneer. 
 
 " Why, that I'm a real smart little girl, and can keep my 
 word like a man ! I said I'd finish my education and be 
 back in a week, and— here I am." 
 
 A dark frown settled on the brow of the judge, as he lis- 
 tened to this audacious reply ; but, maintaining an outer 
 semblance of calmness, he asked : 
 
 " And how have you determined to spend your time for 
 the future. Miss Lawless ? " 
 
 " Just as I did before— riding round and visiting my 
 
 friends." 
 
 A chilling smile settled on the lips of the judge. 
 
 " So that is your intention, is it ? Well, now hear mme. 
 Since you will neither stay at school nor behave yourseK as 
 a young lady should when at home, I shall sell your pony 
 and procure you a tutor who will be your teacher and guard 
 at the same time. Whenever you move from the house, 
 either he or I will accompany you ; and I shall take proper 
 steps to prevent your visiting any of those you call your 
 friends. You will find. Miss Lawless, I am not to be 
 disobeyed with impunity in the future. Perhaps, after a time, 
 if I find you docile and attentive to my orders, I may forget 
 your past misconduct and restore you some of your privi- 
 leges again. This, however, will entirely depend on the 
 manner in which you conduct yourself. I have already a 
 gentleman in view who will undertake the office of tutor, and 
 until he comes I shall have you locked in your room and 
 your meals brought up to you. Not a word, Miss Lawless. 
 I have borne with your impertinence too long, and you will 
 now find 1 '^nn adopt a different course. Solitude will cool 
 your blood, I trust, and bring you to your senses." 
 
"iLjrf ' 
 
 214 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i , ir. 
 
 "I ' 
 
 ■1: 
 
 So saying, the judge calmly arose, rung the bell and then 
 reseated himself. 
 
 You should have seen how Pet stormed and raved, and 
 scolded, then, vowing she would kill herself ; she would 
 jump out of the window ; she would set the house afire and 
 burn them all in their beds ; she would have no tutor ; she 
 would murder him if he came. 
 
 The judge listened to all this with the most perfect in- 
 difference, until the entrance of a negress put an end to the 
 scene. 
 
 " Take Miss Petronilla up-stairs to the attic, and lock her 
 in," was the judge's command. 
 
 But he soon found this was easier said than done ; for, 
 seizing a small chair, Pet brandished it over her head, and 
 threatened instant annihilation to the first who would come 
 near her. 
 
 The judge arose, and with a sudden snatch caught hold of 
 it. Pet clung to it like a hero, scolding and vociferating at 
 the top of her lungs still ; but she was as a fly in her father's 
 grasp, and she was speedily disarmed and pinned. 
 
 " I will bring her up myself. Stand out of the way. Dele," 
 said the judge. 
 
 Holding her firmly, the judge drew her with him up-stairs, 
 opened the attic door, thrust her in, locked it, and left Miss 
 Pet in solitude and darkness, and to her own reflections. 
 
 There was no window in the attic, so her threat of casting 
 herself from it went for naught. As for her other threats, 
 the judge paid about as much attention to them as he would 
 to the buzzing of a fly on the window. He then mounted his 
 horse, and rode off having given orders that Miss Petron- 
 illa's meals should be regularly brought to her, but on no 
 condition should she be allowed to get out. 
 
 Pet, for once fairly conquered, sat down, determined to do 
 something desperate ; and in this frame of mind she was 
 discovered by Ranty, who, hearing of her melancholy fate, 
 came up-stairs and took his station outside the door. 
 
 " Hillo, Pet ! " he began. 
 
 " Hillo, yourself," replied Pet, sulkily. 
 
 " You're locked up — ain't you ? " went on Ranty. 
 
 " Where's your eyes ? Can't you see 1 am ? " snapped 
 Pet. 
 
THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER. 
 
 315 
 
 ell and then 
 
 and lock her 
 
 « Well, you know it serves you right," said Ranty, by way 
 of consolation, as he took out a jack-knife and began to 
 
 " Oh ! if I was only out at him," muttered Pet, between 
 
 her teeth. _ . , 
 
 ''You haven't seen Ermmie smce you came home, 1 sup- 
 pose," said Ranty. 
 
 " No, I haven't 1 You know very well I haven t, said 
 
 Pet, crissly. "HowVRay?" i .-. „ 
 
 " Oh he's first-rate— up and about. His wound didn t 
 amount to much. I'm going over, there now ; got any mes- 
 sage to send ? " ^ ^ ^ 
 
 -No; only to bid them good-by. I never expect to see 
 any of them again," said Pet, with a deep groan. 
 
 <' Why where are you going ? " asked Ranty, in surprise. 
 
 "To commit suicide. Do you know if choking hurts 
 
 much, Ranty ? " j, .u • .- 
 
 " Can't say— never tried it. If it's an easy death, ]us» 
 let me know when you've done it. I'm off." And Rantj 
 decamped, whistling; and Pet was left locked up in th* 
 garret. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER. 
 
 •' A brow whose frowns are vastly grand 
 And eye of star-lit brightness : 
 A swan-like n^ck, and arm and hand 
 Of most bewitching whiteness. ' '— Prakd. 
 
 And now, reader, are you willing to retrace your st«ps 
 with me, and go back to those we left behind, long ago, m 
 
 England ? , „ , -i 
 
 The sudden death of the Earl De Courcy fell heavily on 
 the hearts of Lord ViUiers and Lady Maude; but they 
 mourned as those on whom the heaviest blow Fate can bestow 
 has already fallen, and all other griefs seemed light in com- 
 
 ^^The"servants spoke of the dark, shrouded figure who had 
 
 1 ■ 
 
 _..-^ 
 
•niifMi 
 
 ' "I Oi 
 
 216 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ;•«• 
 
 
 been seen to enter but never depart ; but as it was evident 
 the earl had died, and not been murdered, no suspicion was 
 attached to this. And so, with stately pomp and ceremony, 
 Hugh Seyton, fourth Earl De Courcy, was laid to rest in the 
 family vault, and Lord Villiers took the title, and was now 
 rifth Earl De ("ourcy. 
 
 In the bustle of the funeral, and the duties of his elevated 
 station he found means to withdraw his mind at times from the 
 loss of his child ; but his lovely countess mourned still, and 
 " would not be comforted." 
 
 Had she been assured of Erminie's death, she would have 
 grieved, it is true : but not as she grieved now. Had she 
 beheld her beautiful child laid in the grave, she would have 
 mourned ; but not with mourning like this. 
 
 What had been her fate > Was she living or dead ? in- 
 to whose hands had she fallen ? What would be her future 
 fate? 
 
 Night and day, these thoughts were ever uppermost in her 
 mind, darkening her very soul with anguish and despair. 
 Enormous rewards had been offered for the slightest clue to 
 her abductor ; for upward of a year, the keenest detectives 
 in England were put on the track. Bnt all was in vain. 
 The wide sea rolled between parents and child, and as well 
 might they looked for last year's snow as for lost Erminie. 
 And so at last the search was given up in despair ; the sen- 
 sation it had created died away ; the circumstance was al- 
 most forgotten by all but the bereaved parents. But they 
 —oh I never could they forget sweet, blue-eyed little Erniinie'l 
 While the search continued. Lady Maude had hoped. Day 
 after day passed, and no tidings were brought her of the 
 lost one ; but still she wildly hoped. Month after month 
 waned away ; no trace of her child could be discovered, and 
 still she madly hoped. Each day she rose with beating heart, 
 at the thought that perhaps before night sweet Erminie might 
 be restored. Every passing footstep sent a thrill to her 
 heart, in the anticipation that it might be the bearer of the 
 glad tidings. Through all the long, weary months of vain 
 watchmg and waiting, she had hoped against hope until the 
 last. 
 
 But now — now when the search was given over in despair 
 — came the full realization of her utter bereavement. Then 
 
THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER. 
 
 917 
 
 was evident 
 ispicion was 
 
 the mortal anguish and despair she had long struggled 
 against overwhelmed her soul ; and, hating the sunlight, the 
 gfad earth, and bright sky above, she buried herself in 
 deepest mourning, shut out the light from her room, and, in 
 silence and darkness, still mourned for her lost one, and 
 '' would not be comiOrted." 
 
 On the heart of her husband th^ blow had fallen no less 
 heavily ; but crushing back his bitter sorrow to his own noble 
 heart, he calmed himself to console her. Of all her friends 
 of all who loved her, she would admit no one to her pres- 
 ence but him ; and folded to his heart, she sat for hours, 
 day after day, white, still, cold, and silent. When he left 
 her, she threw herself on her couch, and, in the same 
 strange stupor, remained there until he came back. 
 
 At first, he had permitted Nature to have her way, think- 
 ing her sc-Tow would be less enduring if left to wear itself 
 out ; but when months and months passed, and no change 
 came, and he saw her growing whiter and more fragile day 
 after day, he began to think it was time something els^ was 
 done to rouse her from this destroying grief. 
 
 " Maude, Maude 1 this is wrong — this is sinful 1 " he said, 
 holding her little wan hands, and looking sadly down into 
 the white, cold face. " This rebellious murmuring must 
 not be indulged longer. Dearest Maude, rouse yourself 
 from this trance of despair, and remember our Erminie 
 is in the hands of One who ' doeth all for the best.' He 
 who noteth even the fall of a sparrow will protect our angel 
 
 child." 
 
 A shiver, a shadow, a fluttering of the heart, and that was 
 all. No words came from the pale lips. 
 
 " Have faith, sweet wife, and trust in God. Overcome 
 tUis selfish grief, and remember there still remain many for 
 you to love — many who love you. Live for them, my own 
 Maude ; live for me ; live for the heaven where our Erminie 
 has gone." 
 
 " Oh, my child I my child I Would to God I had died 
 for thee ! " broke in a passionate cry from the white lips of 
 the mother. 
 
 The manly chest of Lord De Courcy rose and fell ; the 
 muscles of his face twitched for a moment convuiSi'i 
 his arms strained her in a closer clasp. 
 
 
) ? '• "!? ' t ue ! 
 
 3l8 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " Our child prays for her mother in heaven. Grieve not 
 for her, dear love. And am I not left to you still ? " 
 
 " Oh 1 it was my fault — it was my fault 1 I left her alone, 
 helpless and unprotected, while I was enjoying myself down- 
 stairs. There was no one to watch her — no one to save her. 
 All were gone, and she was left to perish 1 Oh, my child 1 
 my child ! " 
 
 No words can describe the agony, the remorse, the undy- 
 ing despair of her tones, so full of a mother's utmost woe. 
 Then blessed tears came to her relief and, bowing her head 
 on her husband's shoulder, she wept convulsively. 
 
 It was the first time she had shed a tear since the loss of 
 her child. Lord De Courcy hailed this as a favorable symp- 
 tom, and permitted her to weep, undisturbed, until the very 
 violence of her grief had exhausted itself ; and then raising 
 her head, and smoothing back ♦^he dark curls from her high, 
 pale brow, he said, softly : 
 
 " My Maude is morbid in her grief. She has nothing to 
 reproach herself with. Since Heaven willed we should loss 
 one angel it gave us, is it not our duty to be resigned ? " 
 
 " Oh ! if she had died — if I knew she were sleeping 
 quietly in her. grave, I could be re&.gned. But this dread- 
 ful uncertainty is killing me. Oh, Ernest ! since God gave 
 me two children to love, why has He decreed I should lose 
 them both ? " 
 
 It was the first time since her marriage she had spoken 
 of that other child ; and, for one instant, Lord De 
 Courcy's brew grew dark at the unpleasant memories it 
 brought back. The shadow was gone as quickly as it came ; 
 and, stooping down, he pressed a kiss on her brow, as he 
 replied : 
 
 " He knows best, love. If He has given us griefs, was He 
 not a sufferer of sonow himself ? Rouse yourself from this 
 lethargy of grief, Maude. Does it console you to make 
 those around you wretched? For, Maude, I can not tell 
 you how much it adds to my grief — how miserable it makes 
 all those who love you, to see you yield to this lethargy of 
 despair. Do you think I do not feel the loss of our beauti- 
 ful child ? And yet, Maude, I do not give way to this utter 
 abandon of despair, because 1 know it is positively wrong. 
 There is a sort of luxury in yielding to grief, and permitting 
 
THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER. 
 
 319 
 
 it to have its way ; but it is an essentially selfish luxury; 
 and 1 trust my Maude will view it in its proper light, and 
 nrav for a more Christian spirit." 
 
 -Forgive me, my husband," she softly murmured. 
 « Bear with me a little longer. 1 know I am weak and re- 
 bellious ; but oh 1 there never was sorrow like unto mine 1 
 
 But from that day, a change was manifest in Lady Maude. 
 Loving her husband with almost adoring worship, for his 
 sake she strove to shake off the " luxury of grief he had 
 spoken of, and resume her place in the world as before. At 
 first the trial was hard— almost too hard for her to benr, but 
 his pleasant smile, his thrilling whisper of thanks, the earnest 
 pressure of his hand, told her her efforts were understood 
 and appreciated, and more than rewarded hei for the sac- 
 rifice she had made. 
 
 And thus five years glided away, unmarked by any event 
 
 worth recording. iwio^ 
 
 The young Earl De Courcy as a statesman and politician, 
 had become a demigod with the public, and one of the lead- 
 in- men of the day. In the whirl of busy life, in the mael- 
 stfom of politics, little Erminie was not forgotten, but her 
 memory had grown to be a sweet, haunting shadow of the 
 past— a tender, beautiful recollection, that came to him like 
 a strain of sweet music heard amid the discordant crash 
 and din of the busy world. He thought of her now as an an- 
 gel-visitar/, sent to smile on him for a moment, and then 
 taken back to the heaven from which she had come, to pray 
 
 for him there. ^ ^ 1, 1 „i ,^ 
 
 The intense sorrow of the Countess De Courcy had also 
 been subdued and rendered far less poignant by time, bhe 
 too, hed been obliged, by her elevated position, to resume 
 that place in the fashionable world she was so we 1 fitted to 
 fill But when in the glittering assembly, the brilliant ball 
 the gorgeous pageant, was sweet, lost Erminie forgotten? 
 Never ? Outwardly, that one great sorrow had left its traces 
 still in the deeper pallor of th( ' wely face, in the subdued 
 light of the large, melancholy u.rk eyes, in the soft, tender 
 smile that seemed something holy as it hovered around the 
 sweet, beautiful lips. It had made her a gentler, better 
 woman. With a heart ever meiung at uic^tj Gta...,--, ■■■■- - 
 hand ever ready to relieve it. It had humbled her pride; 
 
'■ 
 
 yf ! wi ? 
 
 •Tit %tt% 
 
 2 20 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 !r, 
 
 it had elevated her soul ; it had made her gentle, tender, and 
 more saintly then ever befor. Her love for children amount- 
 ed almost to a passion ; those '' human flowers," as some 
 one prettily calls them, could at any time arrest her attention, 
 and make her forget all else. Not a child among all the 
 earl's tenantry that had not received proof of her affection, 
 in the shape of creature-comforts and even as she idolized 
 children, so was she invariably loved by them in return. 
 
 The country seat of the De Courcys was a hne old man- 
 sion, embowered in trees, with splendid parks, fine pre- 
 serves, and surrounded by beautiful scenery. Here, with 
 their friends, the earl and countess were in the habit of go- 
 ing each summer, to spend a few weeks ; and here the hap- 
 piest moments of Lady Maude were spent, wandering through 
 the dim old woods, where she could dream, undisturbed, of 
 her lost darling. 
 
 Taking her accustomed walk, one day, she was arrested 
 by the loud cries of a child near. With her sympathies 
 ever enlisted for children, she glanced quickly in the di- 
 rection, and beheld a little, infantile lociking child of two 
 years old apparently, gazing bewildered, and screaming away 
 at the top of its lungs. 
 
 Lady Maude approached, and at a single glance became 
 deeply interested in this little stray waif. 
 
 It was a face of singular beauty that met her eye. A 
 dark olive complexion, large, brilliant black eyes, coal-black 
 hair that now hung tangled and disordered over her shoul- 
 ders. Her little dress w;>p torn, and her hands and face 
 scratched with brambles. The child was evidently lost. 
 
 Lady Maude approached ; and the child, turning to gaze 
 on her, for a moment oeased her cries. Stooping down, she 
 parted the elf-locks off the dark little face, and gazed long 
 and earnestly down into the bright eyes that fearlessly met 
 her own. Something in that face haunted and troubled her ; 
 it seemed to her she had seen it before. Yet that could 
 hardly be ; for this was not a face easily forgotten, when 
 once seen. The longer she looked, the more and more 
 troubled she grew. It seemed to her she must have seen 
 a face like this somewhere before, and that it was connected 
 with some dark memory — what, she could not tell. 
 
 The child, with the confiding confidence of infancy, 
 
THE ADOPTED DAUOHTKK. 
 
 221 
 
 tender, and 
 ren amount- 
 s," as some 
 er attention, 
 long all the 
 er affection, 
 ihe idolized 
 1 return, 
 le old man- 
 s, fine pre- 
 
 Here, with 
 labit of go- 
 re the haj)- 
 ring through 
 listurbed, of 
 
 vas arrested 
 sympathies 
 ■ in the di- 
 hild of two 
 laming away 
 
 ince became 
 
 her eye. A 
 s, coal-black 
 r her shtul- 
 ds and face 
 tly lost, 
 ing to gaze 
 g down, she 
 
 gazed long 
 arlessly met 
 roubled her ; 
 : that could 
 often, when 
 e and more 
 t have seen 
 IS connected 
 ;11. 
 
 of infancy, 
 
 looked up in the pale, sweet face of the lovely lady nd 
 artlessly lisped : 
 
 " F^nX'' murmured Lady Maude, in surprise. "How 
 in the world can she have come here? Where ,s 'mother,' 
 little one ' " she asked, in the same language. 
 
 .'Gone away- bad man get Rita," lisped the httle inno- 
 cent Dulling Lady Maude's dress, as if to urge her along. 
 
 The countess was at a loss, and perhaps would have gone 
 with t1.e little one further into the woods, had not one of 
 Jhe earl's gamekeepers come up at that instant, and takmg 
 off his hat, said : , r 
 
 " Better not venture into the woods, my lady, a gang ot 
 gipsies passed through, last night." Then catchmg s.ght 
 o^f Rita, as the child Called herself, he burst out m surprise ; 
 .< Why, bless my soul 1 here's one of em 1 
 
 Vickies this child belong to the g'P^^^^ ? ^^^^^. ^^f ^ 
 Maude, who never could hear the word g.psy without a 
 sudden red light flushing to her pale cheek. 
 
 'Yes my lady; saw her with them when they passed 
 throuS' last night S'pose she's got left behmd, in a mis- 
 take 1 don't believe she's one of 'em, though ; stole, most 
 
 ^'^' Do you think so ? " said Lady Maude with interest. 
 .'She does not look unlike a gipsy. Why do you thmk she 
 
 ^'<. Whrmytdy, if she had been one of thernselves, some 
 of the women would have had her ; but nobody seemed to 
 owr^^thTs one, or to care about her. I saw one of U.e men 
 Taw her alo^g side of the head, last night, with a blow that 
 knocked her down. Lord 1 how my fingers were itching to 
 
 fin the same to him ! " , . . 
 
 -Poor little thing! "said Lady Maude, compassionate- 
 ly folding her in her arms with a sudden impulse. Poor 
 Httle thing ! Yes. now I think of it, it is more than probable 
 she ha been stokn, for she cannot speak English Carry 
 he? to the hall ; her poor little feet are all cut and bleeding, 
 and we can not allow her to perish here. 
 
 The man lifted the child in his arms, and followed the 
 
 , .u^ u^u ,„hprp ^he. eave orders to have the little 
 
 fo^lX'p-peS;' dressed a„d=-cared for, before presenting 
 
IT 
 
 .'SMJlMO.. 
 
 232 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 her to the carl. He smiled as he listened to her story, and 
 followed her to the room where little Rita, now washed and 
 neatly dressed, sat on the floor playing with some toys. 
 But as his eyes rested on the dark, brilliant face, the smile 
 faded away, and a half-puzzled, half-doubtful look took itK 
 place. 
 
 " Is she not beautiful, dear Ernest ? Does she not re- 
 mind you of some bright, rich, tropical flower .'' " said Lady 
 Maude, in admiration. 
 
 " Or some bright-winged, gorgeous little butterfly — yes," 
 said Lord De Coun y. " But, Maude, it seems to me — I can 
 not account for it — but it seems as if I had seen her some- 
 where before." 
 
 " Oh, my lord 1 have you, too, observed it ? " cried Lady 
 Maude, breathlessly. " It was the first thing that struck me, 
 too. How very singular 1 " 
 
 " I suppose she resembies some one we have both known. 
 There is no accounting for the strange likenesses we see 
 sometimes in total strangers. Well, what do you intend to 
 do with this little bird of paradise you have caught ? " 
 
 " Let her remain here in charge of the housekeeper. I 
 cannot account for the strange interest I feel in this little 
 one, Ernest." 
 
 " I should like to see the child you do not feel an inter- 
 est in, Maude," he said, smiling. " But are there no means 
 of finding out to whom she belongs ? Her parents may be 
 living, and lamenting her loss, even now, dear wife." 
 
 A sudden shadow fell on them both at his words and the 
 recollection they recalled. Earl De Courcy's eyes softened 
 with a tender light as he gazed on the child's, and Lady 
 Maude's were full of tears as she stooped down and kissed 
 the small, red mouth. 
 
 " There are no ^ans of discovering them, Ernest," she 
 said, half sadly. • . iie gipsies are gone ; but Martha found 
 a little silver cross round her neck, on which were engraven 
 the letters 'M. J. L.' I have laid it carefully aside, though 
 I fear her parentage may never be discovered." 
 
 " Well do as you like with her, dear Maude. The child is 
 certainly very beautiful. I believe you love all children for 
 our lost treasure's sake." 
 
 " Oh, I do — I do 1 my sweet, precious Erminie I Oh, my 
 
THE ADOPTED DAUGHTER. 
 
 223 
 
 story, and 
 cashed and 
 some toys. 
 !, the smile 
 )k took iti 
 
 she not ro- 
 said Lady 
 
 •fly — yes," 
 
 me — I can 
 
 her some- 
 
 :ried Lady 
 ; struck me, 
 
 oth known, 
 jcs we see 
 
 intend to 
 :it ? " 
 ikeeper. I 
 
 this little 
 
 I an inter- 
 i no means 
 ts may be 
 fe." 
 
 ds and the 
 
 :s softened 
 
 and Lady 
 
 and kissed 
 
 >nest,"she 
 ,rtha found 
 i engraven 
 ide, though 
 
 rhe child is 
 :hildren for 
 
 ! Oh, my 
 
 lord! if this little one had blue eyes and fair hair like her, I 
 could find it in my heart to adopt her, for our darhng s 
 
 ' " You would not : ;3uch a trifle as that prevent you, 
 Maude, if you really wished it. Hut let the child remain. 
 Kiui— that's her name, isn't it ?— come here, Rita." 
 
 He held out his arms. Rita looked at him from under 
 her long eye lashes, and then going over, nestled within them 
 iust is Erminie used to do. ... * 
 
 The simple action awoke a host of tender memories that 
 for a moment nearly unnerved the earl. Rising hastily, he 
 kissed Rita and left the room. But from that day the little 
 stray waif was an inmate of the hall, and with every passing 
 day grew more and more deeply dear to the earl and count- 
 ess When they returned to the city, Lady Maude would 
 not hear of parting with her pet ; so Mademoiselle Rita and 
 her nurse accompanied them ; and soon both earl and count- 
 ess learned to love her with a love only second to that 
 they had cherished for little Erminie. 
 
 And so, without legally adopting her, they learned to look up 
 on her, as time passed, in the light of a daughter sent to take 
 ihe place of the lost one. Rita addressed them by the en- 
 dearing name of father and mother ; and the world tacitly 
 seemed to take it for granted that little '< Lady Rita' was to 
 be heiress and daughter of Earl De Courcy. 
 
 At seven years old, Lady Rita had her governess and 
 commenced her education. She seemed to have iorgotten 
 she ever had any other father and mother than Lord an^ 
 Lady De Courcy ; and they, quite as willing she should 
 think so never undeceived her. 
 
 And so, while the lost daughter was living m po-erty, 
 in a little cottage, in her far distant home, depender,^ on 
 the bounty of others, the adopted daughter was growing 
 up surrounded by every luxury that fond hearts could bestow 
 upon her. 
 
 
 ?si 
 
 ! II 
 
 > m 
 
 in 
 
wm 
 
 ^ 
 
 ;aj Ma 
 
 224 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 PET GIVES HER TUTOR A LESSON. 
 
 «' Then on his blow the swelling vein "; 
 
 Throbbed, as if back upon his brain \ 
 
 The hot blood ebbed and flowed again." 
 
 — Byrow. 
 
 Your pardon, dear reader, if, without further preface, I 
 skip over a period of six years. Orie brief bird's-eye glawce 
 at the past, and then to go on with our history. 
 
 Those six years had changed Ray and Ranty from boys 
 of tifteen to young men of twenty-one, and had metarnor- 
 phosed Erminie and Petronilla from Httle girls of twelve and 
 eleven to young ladies of respectively eighteen and st-ven- 
 teen. Beyond that, it had wrought little change in J.ides- 
 town or its inhabitants. 
 
 Master Ranty having displayed, during his rapid career 
 at college, sundry " fast " tendencies, was sent to aca to 
 take the nonsense out of him. That young gentleman bore 
 his fate with most exemplary patience and resignation, 
 affirming that he always had a strong partiality for bilge- 
 water and short allowance, and rather liked the cat-o'-nine- 
 tails than otherwise. 
 
 Great was the delight of the worthy admiral, his uncle, 
 when he heard of his nephew's destination ; and it was par- 
 tially through his influence that, some months after, Ranty, 
 radiant in blue roundabout and bright brass buttons, stood 
 on the deck of the Sea Nymph, and wrote his name, in tre- 
 mendous capitals, as " Randolph Lawless, U. S. N." 
 . " Now remember, Minnie, you mustn't go and fail in love 
 with anybody else," were his parting words; " if you do, I'll 
 knock all creation into everlasting smash ; I'll hurl the whole 
 universe into the regions of space ; I'll set fire to every 
 blessed one of the United States, and bring all the world 
 and Nebraska Territory to universal ruination ! '' 
 
 Duly impressed by these appalling and biood-chiiling 
 threats, Erminie dutifully promised not to " go ahd fall in 
 
PET GIVES IIER TUTOR A LESvSON. 225 
 
 attd fall in 
 
 love with anybody else ;" and Mr Lawless, transformed into 
 a dasliing middy, gavo his friends at home his blessing, and 
 set off on his first voyage. 
 
 Ray, who, even in'his boyhood, had displayed great tal- 
 ent in legal matters, was now, by the kindness of tlie admi- 
 ral, in New York city, studying law. 
 
 Erminie, too, was absent from home now. Having com- 
 pletely captivated the heart of the generous and eccentric 
 Admiral Havenful, as she did that of most others, he set 
 about thinking, one day, what was the best means to display 
 his affection. Just then he recollected her fondness for 
 learning, and the few opportunities she had to indulge that 
 fondness; and jumping up, he struck the table a vigorous 
 blow, exclaiming: 
 
 " I'll send her to school! Pet learns all them heathen- 
 ish foreign languages, and makes a noise on that big sea-chest 
 of a piano, and so shall little Snowdrop. Ell send her to 
 school this very day! — shiver my timbers if I don't!" 
 
 And on the spur of the moment, the admiral, with many a 
 doleful grunt, dumped himself on old Ringbones back, and 
 jogged over the heath to the cottage. 
 
 There he made his proposal to Erminie, whose sweet blue 
 eyes lit up at first with joy and gratitude ; then came the 
 thought of Ketura, now a helpless cripple, unable to leave 
 her room, and her countenance fell, and the joyful Hght^ 
 faded from her face. 
 
 " I am very sorry, but I cannot leave my grandmother," 
 was her sad reply. 
 
 " Fiddle-de-dee 1" exclaimed the admiral, testily. " She's 
 got Lucy to attend to her ; and if Lucy is not enough, she 
 can have half a dozen female women from the White Squall 
 to keep her in proper saihng order. I know a good place 
 to send you to. Snowdrop, and go you shall, and that's all 
 about it ! I'll speak to the old lady myself about it." 
 
 So the admiral stamped up-stairs and spoke to Ketura^ 
 accordingly, who gave a cold, curt assent. And the resulb- 
 of this was that, three weeks after, Erminie was sent to a 
 Convent of the Sacred Heart, to study everything necessary 
 for a finished education. 
 
 So of our four voung friends, only Firefly remained at 
 home, under the surveillance of a tutor. Pet had lost none 
 
jua 
 
 226 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I 
 
 ■ 
 
 \:V 
 
 of her mischief-loving propensities as she grew up ; in fact, 
 they seemed to grow with her growth, until she became the 
 maddest, merriest, skip-over-the-moon madcap that ever 
 threw a peaceable community into convulsions. Never did a 
 pupil drive a well-disposed teacher to the verge of distraction 
 as Pet did hers ; never did a naughty daughter throw a digni- 
 fied '• parient " into such undignified paroxysms of rage as our 
 Firefly did ; never was a quiet, orderly, stately mansion thrown 
 upside down, as if a tornado had torn through it every day, as 
 Heath Hall was ; never in any other house was here heard such 
 awful banging of doors, and slamming down of windows, and 
 tearing like a maniac up and down-stairs, and rushing like a 
 living whirlwind in and out of every room in five minutes, 
 as might be seen and heard here ; never were servants so 
 completely at their wits' end ; never were quiet, business- 
 like neighbors so completely and utterly shocked and aston- 
 ished before as they were by the freaks of Judge Lawless' 
 heiress. Well-named was Pet ; for never, since the plagues 
 of Egypt, was the earth afflicted with a more lawless little 
 hurricane than the hotheaded, laughter-loving, mischief- 
 making heiress in question. Very charming, withal, and be- 
 wilderingly beautiful was Pet ; and there was not a young man 
 in Judestown, or within twenty miles round, who would not 
 have given his whiskers and mustaches for one glance from 
 her " bonnie black e'e'' But Pet didn't care a snap for all 
 the young men in America, except, perhaps, Ray Germaine ; 
 and she flirted away unmercifully, turned countless heads, 
 and had more sighing swains at her feet than all the other 
 belles of Judestown put together. 
 
 Pet was naturally clever, bright and talented, and could 
 have progressed wonderfully in her studies if she fc.d chosen ; 
 but she didn't choose, and followed her own sweet will about 
 learning, in spite of all the lectures, entreaties and persua- 
 sions of her tutor, and the stern reproofs and angry out- 
 bursts of her father. Therefore, at eighteen, she could play 
 a little, draw a little— her talents in this respect were chiefly 
 confined to caricature — sing a good deal, talk more than she 
 could sing, and was still aware that English grammar was a lit- 
 tle book with a gray cover. At first, Mr. Garnet, her teacher, 
 bad insisted upon her applying herself ; but seeing that Pet 
 only listened very dutifully and then did as she liked after, 
 
 
jp ; in fact, 
 became the 
 ) that ever 
 Never did a 
 f distraction 
 irow a digni- 
 ■ rage as our 
 sion thrown 
 very day, as 
 e heard such 
 indows, and 
 ishing like a 
 ve minutes, 
 servants so 
 t, business- 
 i and aston- 
 ge Lawless' 
 the plagues 
 awless little 
 ^, mischief- 
 thai, and be- 
 a young man 
 ) would not 
 glance from 
 snap for all 
 y Germaine ; 
 tless heads, 
 ,11 the other 
 
 , and could 
 h;d chosen; 
 et will about 
 and persua- 
 i angry out- 
 le could play 
 
 were chiefly 
 ore than she 
 mar was a lit- 
 , her teacher, 
 :ing that Pet 
 
 liked after, 
 
 PET GIVES HER TUTOR A LESSON. 227 
 
 he gave it up, nd allowed her now pretty much to do as she 
 liked. 
 
 Pet had from the first conceived a strong dislike to this 
 gentleman — a dislike that increased every day. This was 
 the more surprising, as his conduct, morals, and manners, 
 were irreproachable, and he was an immense favorite with 
 the judge and everybody else. In person he was a tall, 
 li^dit-haired, gray-eyed, effeminate-looking young man ; easy 
 and courteous in manner, polished in address, a finished 
 scholar, and — strict Christian. But Pet's keen gaze had 
 detected the concealed cunning in the eye ; the sardonic 
 smile, the unscrupulous look the face sometimes wore ; the 
 hard, crafty, cruel expression of the mouth. Therefore, all 
 his virtue was to her hypocrisy ; his goodness, a mask for 
 evil designs ; his politeness, a cloak for covert wickedness. 
 Pet disliked him. and took no pains to conceal it. 
 
 And Pet had read his character aright ; he had been a 
 young man of fortune — he was a ruined debauchee, reduced 
 to this by his excesses. At first he had looked upon his 
 scholar as a pest and plague ; but as she grew up, his feel- 
 ings changed. Love and ambition began to enter his heart. 
 What, he thought, if he could win this peerless beauty, this 
 wealthy heiress, to be his wife ? His fallen fortunes would 
 be retrieved, and his pride and passion gratified possessing 
 her. Concealing his schemes, he wound himself round the 
 heart of the judge, until he became his bosom friend and 
 confidant. He knew Pet disliked him, but he thought this 
 was because she looked upon him as a cross master ; if she 
 could be taught to regard him as a lover, it would be very 
 different. Therefore, as months passed, he became all 
 kindness tenderness, and affability — the most devoted 
 slave and admirer Miss Lawless had. 
 
 " When Satan turns saint, there's room .for suspicion!" 
 said Pet, looking at him with a cool, critical eye. " You're 
 up to something you shouldn't be, my good youth. I'll keep 
 my eye on you, Mr. Rozzel Garnet." 
 
 But though Pet kept her " eye on him" as she threatened, 
 no clue to the change could she discover ; for as a lover she 
 had never dreamed of him in her wildest moments. Until 
 one day, bursting into the library where he sat, with an open 
 letter in her hand, her cheeks flushed to a deeper crimson 
 
S5BL 
 
 MMM" 
 
 JMEL 
 
 •SLLMfiL- 
 
 |?^-fl 
 
 
 '■ ■ ti 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 228 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 than usual, her dancing curls all irradiate, her brilliant eyes 
 flashing back the sunshine, her whole face sparkling with 
 delight, he looked up from the book he was reading, and 
 
 ' " You seem in unusually good spirits to-day, Miss Lawless 
 —may I ask the cause ? " . 
 
 " Yes ; I've got a letter from Ray, and he's coming home 
 in a month or so 1 Tra, la, la, la, la, la, la." 
 
 And Pet went waltzing round the room. 
 
 A cloud settled for a moment on the bland face of the 
 gentleman, and his small eyes shot a sharp, jealous gleam at 
 the bewildering figure floating dimly over the carpet. It van- 
 ished however, as quickly as it came, as he said, in a tone ot 
 assumed carelessness : " Ah ! and who is Ray, Miss Petro- 
 
 ni 
 
 ? " 
 
 ' Why, you know well enough, " said Pet, impatiently. 
 " R ly Germaine — vou saw him when he was here last. " 
 
 "'l]less me! Yes, I had forgotten; but you remember 
 that was three years ago. Miss Lawless, so I may be pardoned 
 for p.ot recollecting him. If I took as much interest in him 
 as Y 'II seem to do, my memory would doubtless be better. 
 
 liis tones were low, bland and oily, but his gleaming eyes 
 were like two drawn stilettoes. 
 
 - I expect you would, " said Pet. " I have a faint idea that 
 I would have some trouble— if not more— in forgetting Ray 
 GcrnKiine. Don't believe he would approve of my doing so 
 
 at all, either," , , , 1 
 
 " I did not think Miss Lawless cared for the approval or 
 disapproval of any one in the world," insinuated the gentle- 
 man, Willi one of his bland smiles and needlelike glances. ^^ 
 
 «< We'll see what thought done ! That proves, Mr. Garnet, 
 Slid l!u> elf, mockingly, "how careful the general run of man- 
 kind sli-.uld be in trusting their thoughts, since even a gentle- 
 man so near perfection as you are can be deceived." 
 
 " '] hen you do care for the approval of this fellow, Ger- 
 maiiK- ^ " sai-l the tutor, trving to hide a dark scowl. 
 
 " Thi'^ fellow, Germaine"? Well, there's a nice way for a 
 voun" lady's tutor to talk of her friends. I'd prefer to heat 
 him e-.lled Mister Germaine, sir, if. it's all the same to you, 
 said P t, drawing herself up. 
 
 " Oh, very well ! " said Garnet, with a curling lip ; oni; 
 
PET GIVES HER TUTOR A I.ESSON 229 
 
 as he is a pauper, educated by the bounty of your uncle — " 
 
 But his speech was cut short by Pet's springing suddenly 
 round, with blazing eyes, passion-darkened face, and fiercely 
 and passionately bursting out with : 
 
 " It is false ' It is a foul slander! Ray Germaine is no 
 pauper ; and if you ever dare to say such a thing again, I shall 
 have you turned out of the house 1 Take care how you talk, 
 Mr. Rozzel Garnet ! It's treading on dangerous ground to 
 slight my friends before mel " 
 
 Mr. Garnet saw that he had made a false move, and that it 
 was dangerous work handling this fiery little grenade, so he 
 banished all traces of his recent scowl from liis face, and his 
 tones were of honeyed sweetness when he spoke again. 
 
 " Ten thousand pardons. Miss Lawless, for my offence. 
 Believe me, I had not the remotest intention of slighting 
 your excellent friend, Mr. Germaine. You and he were very 
 intimate, I presume ? " 
 
 " Thick as pickpockets," said Pet, forgetting her momen- 
 tary anger. " Heigho! I wish he was liere ; he was the only 
 masculine I ever knew, who wasn't as stupid as an owl.'' 
 
 " Tiiat's a very flattering speech. Miss Lawless," said 
 Garnet, biting his lip, " and a very sweeping assertion. 
 Are there no exceptions but him ? " 
 
 " Not that I've ever met. 1 dare say there may be one or 
 two in the world; but I haven't come across them." 
 
 There was a moment's pause, during which Garnet sat 
 gnawing his nether li]3, and Pet flitted round the room, hum- 
 ming an opera air. lie watched her covertly, and then, see- 
 ing her about to leave, he started impulsively up, exclaiming : 
 
 " One moment, Miss Pet — I have something to say to you." 
 
 " Well, fire away," said Pet, composedly, turning round, and 
 standing wiih her back to the door. 
 
 But for once in his life, his customary assurance seemed to 
 have failed him. There was something in the bold, fearless 
 open gaze of those brilliant black eyes that daunted him, 
 brazen as he was. A slight crimson flushed to his face, and 
 his eyes for an instant fell. 
 
 " Now, what in the name of Diana and all her nymphs is 
 coming ? "' mentally exclaimed Pet, as she watched in surprise 
 his embarrassment. " The cool, self-possessed, dignified 
 Mr. Rozzel Garnet blushing like a boiled lobster before poor 
 
■/' 
 
 1S:ML^IL ^,-l.WlX_ :a»M« 
 
 230 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ,■ It 
 
 14: 
 
 little Pet Lawless 1 Snakes and sarpints, and varmints gen- 
 erally, the world's coming to an end — that's certain ! " 
 
 Then aloud : 
 
 " Mr. Garnet, I desired you to fire away, which translated 
 from the original Greek, means go ahead, and say whatever 
 you want to. No need to be bashful about it seeing it's only 
 me." 
 
 The flush on Mr. Garnet's cheek deepened, as he said : 
 
 " Perhaps, Miss Petronilla, what I am about to say may 
 be unexpected, but it can hardly take you by surprise. The 
 change in my manner toward you for the last few months 
 must have prepared you for it." 
 
 He stopped short, and began walking up and down. Pet 
 stuck both hands in her apron-pockets, and stood waiting, 
 " like Patience on a monument," for what was to come 
 next. 
 
 " It's no gunpowder-plot, or hanging matter, now, is it ? " 
 she began. " For though I wouldn't mind setting the Chesa- 
 peake on fire, or blowing up the AUeghanies, I've an immense 
 respect for the laws of my country, Mr. Garnet, and would 
 not like to undermine the Constitution, or anything of that 
 sort. Any common matter, though, from riding a steeple- 
 chase to fighting a duel, and I'm yours to command." 
 
 " Miss Lawless, may I beg of you to be serious for a few 
 moments — this is no jesting matter," said the gentleman, 
 looking annoyed. 
 
 " Well, my goodness 1 ain't I serious ? I'll leave it to the 
 company, generally, if I'm not as solemn as a hearse. If 
 you'd only condescend to look at me instead of watching 
 the flowers in the carpet, you would see my face is half a 
 yard long." 
 
 " Then, Miss Lawless, to come to the matter at once — for I 
 know you do not like long prefaces — I love you, I worship 
 you, Petronilla 1 Petronilla, dearer then life I may I hope 
 one day to possess this dear hand ? " 
 
 Now, if our Pet had been sentimental, she would have 
 blushed becomingly, burst into tears, or covered her face 
 with her hands, maybe ; but Pet wasn't a bit sentimental, 
 and so, arching her eyebrows, and opening her eyes till they 
 were the size of two saucers, she gave utterance to her c-om- 
 plete amazement in a long, shrill whistle. 
 
mints gen- 
 in!" 
 
 , translated 
 Y whatever 
 ng it's only 
 
 he said : 
 o say may 
 •rise. The 
 ew months 
 
 iown. Pet 
 od waiting, 
 s to come 
 
 3w, is it ? " 
 ^the Chesa- 
 in immense 
 and would 
 ing of that 
 a steeple- 
 md." 
 
 s for a few 
 gentleman, 
 
 ve it to the 
 hearse. If 
 if watching 
 e is half a 
 
 once — for I 
 
 I worship 
 
 nay I hope 
 
 would have 
 d her face 
 ientimental, 
 yes till they 
 lo her com- 
 
 PET GIVES HER TUTOR A LESSON. 231 
 
 Garnet approached her, and would have taken her hand, 
 only as they were still stuck in her aproa-pockets, she didn't 
 appear to have such a thing about her. Accordingly, there- 
 fore, he attempted do the next best thing, that is, put 
 his arms around her waist ; but Pet very coolly edged away 
 
 saying : 
 
 " Hands off, Mr. Garnet, until better acquainted. I don't 
 believe in having coat-sleeves round my waist— as a general 
 thing. Just say that over again, will you ; it was mighty in- 
 teresting ! " 
 
 And Pet flung herself into an arm-chair, and put her 
 feet upon an ottoman with a great display of careless- 
 ness and ankles, and stared Mr. Garnet composedly in the 
 
 face. 
 
 " Cruel girl 1 You know your power, and thus you use 
 it. Oh, Petronilla 1 my beautiful one 1 have I nothing left to 
 hope for ? " ^^ 
 
 " That's a question I can't take it upon myself to answer, 
 said Pet. " There's your next quarter's salary, though, you 
 can hope for that." 
 
 " Is that meant as a taunt ? Oh, Petronilla I you little 
 know how deeply, how devotedly I love you 1 I could give 
 my life to make you happy." 
 
 " Thanky, Mr. Garnet— shows a highly Christian spirit in 
 you : but, at the same time, I guess I won't mind it. As to 
 your loving me, I have not the slightest doubt about it. 
 I'm such an angel in female form that I don't see how 
 people can help loving me, any more than they can help the 
 toothache. So you needn't go telling me over again you 
 love me, because you've said it two or three times already ; 
 and the most interesting things get tiresome, you know, when 
 repeated too often." 
 
 " Capricious, beautiful fairy 1 how shall I win you to seri- 
 ousness? Fairest Petronilla, I would serve for this little 
 hand even as Jacob served for Rachel !/' 
 
 " Mr. Garnet, it's real polite of you to say so, but you'll 
 excuse me for saying I'd a good deal rather you wouldn't. 
 You've been here six years now, and if I thought I was to 
 undergo six more like them, I'd take the first bar of soft-soap 
 I could find and put an immediate end to my melancholy 
 existence." 
 
^I * JIJI 
 
 a k 
 
 ^32 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " Mocking still ! Oh, beautiful Petronilla ! how shall I 
 reach this willful heart ? " 
 
 "There's no heart there, Mr. Garnet ; it took a trip to the 
 fast city of Gotham three years ago, and hasn't come back 
 since." 
 
 " With Raymond Germaine? " he said, with a sharp fiash 
 
 of his eyes. 
 
 "• Ex-actly ; you've struck the right thing in the middle 
 — htt the nail straight on the head — jumped, with your ac- 
 customed sagacity, at my exact meaning. After all, you're 
 not half so stupid as you look, Mr. Garnet." 
 
 " Miss Lawless," he broke out, angrily, ''this levity is as 
 unbecoming as it is unnecessary. I have asked you a 
 question, which, as a lady, you are bound to answer." 
 
 " Mr. Garnet, look here,"' said Pet : " did papa hire you 
 to knock reading, writing and spelling into me, or to make 
 love ? " 
 
 " Miss Lawless 1 " 
 
 " Perhaps, though," said Pet, in a musing tone, " it's 
 customary with tutors when winding up a young lady's 
 education, to put her through a severe course of love-making, 
 that she may know how to act and speak properly when oc- 
 casion requires. Mr. Garnet, excuse me, I never thought 
 of it before ; I see it all now. Just begin at the beginning 
 again, if it's not too much trouble, and you'll see how beauti- 
 fully I'll go through with it." 
 
 He started up passionately, and bit his lip till it bled. 
 
 " Once for all. Miss Lawless," he exclaimed, stifiing his 
 impotent rage, and striding fiercely up to her — " once for 
 all, I demand an answer. I love you— will you be my wife ? " 
 
 " Well, upon my word, Mr. Rozzel Garnet," said Pet, con- 
 fusedly, " you have the mildest and pleasantest way of your 
 own I ever witnessed. Here you come stamping up to me 
 as if about to knock me down, and savagely tell me you love 
 mel Love away, can't you, but don't get in a rage about 
 it 1 I'm sure you're perfectly welcome to love me till you're 
 black in the face, if you'll only take things easy." 
 
 "Miss Lawless, forgive me; I'm half-mad, and scarce 
 know what I said." 
 
 " I forgive you," said Pet, stretching out her hands as if 
 about to warm them ; " go, sin no more. I thought you 
 
 
aw shall I 
 
 . trip to the 
 :onie back 
 
 sharp flash 
 
 the middle 
 h your ac- 
 all, you're 
 
 levity is as 
 
 iked you a 
 
 er." 
 
 a hire you 
 
 r to make 
 
 tone, " it's 
 ung lady's 
 ive-making, 
 y when oc- 
 er thought 
 beginning 
 how beauti- 
 
 it bled. 
 
 stifling his 
 
 -" once for 
 
 my wife ? " 
 
 d Pet, con- 
 
 -ay of your 
 
 up to me 
 
 Tie you love 
 
 rage about 
 
 2 till you're 
 > 
 
 and scarce 
 
 lands as if 
 lought you 
 
 PET GIVES H1:R tutor A LESSON. 233 
 
 were a little light in the head myself ; but then it didnt sur- 
 prise me, as it's about the full of the moon, I thuik." 
 
 " Miss Lawless, 1 did Hiink you were too much of a lady 
 to despise and scoff nt true affection thus. HI have the 
 misfortune to be poor, that does not make me the less sensi- 
 tive to insult." . . T, ^ 
 "Now Mr. G-. .-^t, look here," said Pet, rising. "I m get- 
 tine tired of this scene, and may as well bring it to an end 
 at once. Your love I fully understand ; you have several 
 reasons for loving me— several thousands, in fact, but we 
 won't speak of them. As to insulting you, I flatly deny it ; 
 and if you think I have done so, just refer me to a friend, 
 and I'll fight a duel about it to-morrow. Scoffing at true 
 affection is another thing I'm not in the habit of domg, 
 neither in despising people for being poor; you know both 
 th -se things as well as I do. Bat, Mr. Garnet, I wouldn t 
 niarrv you if you were the last man in the world, and I was 
 to -o to my grave a forlorn, hatchet-faced old maul for refus- 
 iniTvou. If it's any consolation to you to know it, I wouldn t 
 marry you to save your neck from the hangman— your 
 soul from you know who— or your goods and chattels, per- 
 sonal, from being turned, neck and crop, into the street. 
 
 Now, there 1 " . , 1 -.i „ 
 
 His face blanched with rage ; his eyes gleamed with a 
 serpent-like light ; his thin lips quivered, and for a moment 
 he stood glaring upon her as if he could have torn her limb 
 from limb. But there was a dangerous light in her eye, too, 
 as she stood drawn up to her full hight, with reddening 
 cheeks, and defiant, steady gaze, staring him still straight in 
 the face. So they stood for an instant, and then the sense 
 of the ludicrous overcame all else in Pet's mind, and she 
 burst into a clear, merry peal of laughter. 
 
 " Well, upon my word, Mr. Garnet, if this is not as good 
 as a farce ; here we are, staring at each other, as if for 
 a wager, and looking as savage as a couple of uncivilized 
 ticrers. 1 dare say, it would be a very nice way to pass time 
 on an ordinary occasion ; but as it's drawing near dinner- 
 time, and I have a powerful appetite of my own, you 11 
 excuse me for bidding you a heartrending adieu, and tearing 
 myself away. If you have anything more to say, 1 U come 
 back, after dinner, and stand it like a martyr.' 
 
TCTOEXisair 
 
 ^f 
 
 231 THK GYPSY QUEENVS VOW. 
 
 " Not so fast, Miss Pctronilla Lawless 1 " said Garnet, 
 grasping her by the arm, his sallow face fairly livid mt\^ 
 rage ; " since it has been your good pleasure to laugh me to 
 scorn, and mock at the affection I have ofTered, just hear 
 nie. I swear to you, the day shall come when you will rue 
 this ! There is but a step between love and hatred and 
 that step I have taken. Remember, you have made me 
 your deadliest enemy, and I am an enemy not to be scorned 1 
 Girl, beware 1 " 
 
 " Well, now, I declare," said Pet, " if this is not as good 
 as a play and moral. I'm afraid you', j only plagiarizing, 
 though, Mr. Garnet, for that melodramatic ' girl, beware I' 
 sounds very like something I read in the ' Pink Bandit of 
 the Cranberry Cove.' Confess, now, you've been reading it 
 
 haven't you ? — and that's an extract from it ; and, at the 
 
 same time, you'll oblige me by letting go my arm. It's not 
 made of cast iron, though you seem to think it is." 
 
 " Laugh, girl I " he said, hoarsely, " but the day will come 
 when you shall sue to me, and sue in vain, even as I have 
 done to-day. Then you will know what it is to despise Roz- 
 
 zel Garnet." 
 
 " Why, you horrid old fright 1 " exclaimed Pet, with flash- 
 ing eyes, " / sue to you, indeed 1 I guess not, my good 
 teacher 1 How dare you threaten me, sir, your master's 
 daughter I Upon my word and honor, Mr. Rozzel Garnet, 
 1 have the best mind ever was to have you horsewhipped out 
 of the house by my servants. A pretty chivalrous gentleman 
 you are, to stand up there and talk to a lady like this 1 I 
 declare to goodness 1 i I hadn't the temper of an angel, I 
 wouldn't stand itl " 
 
 Still he held her, glaring in her face with his threatening 
 eyes, and half-choked with passion. 
 
 " Let me go," said Pet, jerking herself first one way, and 
 then another, to free herself from his tenacious grasp. "I 
 vow I'll go and tell papa every blessed word of this, and if 
 you stay another night under the same roof with me, my 
 name's not Pctronilla. Take your claw from my arm, will 
 you ? and let me go 1 " 
 
 Pet jerked and pulled in vain ; Mr. Garnet held her fast, 
 and smiled a grim', sardonic smile at her futile eltorts. 
 
 " Spit and snarl, my little kitten," he said mockingly ; 
 
d Garnet, 
 livid witlj 
 igh me to 
 just hear 
 )u will rue 
 at red and 
 iiKide me 
 ; scorned I 
 
 Dt as good 
 agiarizing, 
 , beware I' 
 Bandit of 
 reading it 
 and, at the 
 n. It's not 
 
 will come 
 
 as I have 
 
 spise Roz- 
 
 vvith flash- 
 , my good 
 r master's 
 jel Garnet, 
 hipped out 
 gentleman 
 e this! I 
 m angel, I 
 
 hreatening 
 
 e way, and 
 
 ;rasp. 
 
 I 
 
 his, and if 
 ith me, my 
 y arm, will 
 
 d her fast, 
 torts, 
 nockingly ; 
 
 PET GIVES HER TUTOR A LESSON. 235 
 
 «« see what a sparrow you are in my grasp. Go you shall 
 not, till it is my good pleasure to release you 1 " 
 
 With a sharp, passionate cry of rage, Petronilla darted 
 down like lightning, and sunk her sharp, white teeth mto 
 his hand The red blood spurted from a little circlet of 
 wounds, and with an oath of pain and fury, he sprung back 
 from the little wild-cat. No sooner was his hold released, 
 than Pet darted like a flash through the door, turned the 
 key in the lock and held him '--.ptive. ,.,,•» 
 
 '' Aha 1 Mr. Garnet 1 " she cried, exultmgly ; " little kittens 
 can bite as well as sna.., you see. You caught a Tartar 
 that time— didn't you ? You're a model gentleman ; you re 
 the saint that ought to be canonized on the spot ; you're the 
 refined scholar-am't you ? I'll leave you, now, to discover 
 the charms of solitude, while I go and tell papa the lesson 1 
 have taught you this morning. A little fasting and solitary 
 imprisonment wont hurt your blood in the least. Bon jour, 
 Sei-neur Don Monsieur Moustache Whiskerando! May 
 voirr guardian-angel watch over you till I come back and 
 keep you from bursting a blood-vessel in your rage. If any- 
 thing should happen to so precious an individual, society 
 might as well shut up shop at once, so the gods have 
 a ?are of you, Mr. Rozzel Garnet!" And off danced 
 
 Pot. . . , 
 
 In the dining-room she found her father awaiting her. 
 
 " Where is Mr. Garnet ? " he asked as she entered. 
 
 " Mr Garnet will not be down to dinner," said Pet, in- 
 wardly uetermining to keep that gentleman as long impris- 
 oned as she could. , . 
 
 The judge, without troubling himself to inqmre further, 
 took his seat, and proceeded to administer condign punish- 
 ment to the good things spread before him, assisted by Pet, 
 whose appetite was by no means impaired by the pleasant 
 scene she had just passed through, and whose stony con- 
 science was not in the least troubled with remorse for hav- 
 ing locked a young gentleman up without his dinner. 
 
 About ten minutes after, the judge started to leave the 
 room, and Pet, guessing where he was going, called to him : 
 
 "Papa!" , . , 
 
 " Well," said the judge, pausing, and turning round. 
 
 « Where are you going ? " 
 
. ■feii.j^ 
 
 laiwn 
 
 236 
 
 THK GYPvSV QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i i 
 
 " To the library, Miss Lawless," said the judge, with 
 dignity. 
 
 " Well, look here, papa, there's a prisoner of war in 
 there." 
 
 " What, Miss Lawless ? "said the judgc.knitting his brows 
 in perplexity. 
 
 " A prisoner I have taken — captivated — locked up ! In 
 other words, the pupil has turned teacher and locked her 
 master up, as mothers do refractory children, to bring him 
 to his senses." 
 
 " Miss Lawless," .said the judge, in his most stately man- 
 ner, " I have no time to listen to your nonsense. If you 
 have anything to say —say it. If not, hold your tongue, and 
 learn to be respectful when you address your father." 
 
 " Well, I never ! " (ejaculated Pet. " No matter how seri- 
 ously, sensibly, or solemnly I talk, people say I'm talking 
 nonsense. Ikit that's just my fate ; everything awful and 
 horrid is destined to happen to me ; and if I say a word 
 against it, I'm told I'm imprudent and ungrateful, and dear 
 knows what. Now, I told you I have locked my teacher 
 up, and you tell me you have no time to listen to my nor- 
 sense, I guess Mr, Garnet tinds it an unpleasant truth, 
 anyway." 
 
 '• Petronilla ! what do you mean ? " said her father, begin- 
 ing to think there might be method in this madness. 
 
 •• Why, tlmt I've locked Mr. Garnet up in the library for 
 not behaving himself," said Pet, promptly. 
 
 '• Locked him up ! " 
 
 •• Ves, sir ; and served him right, too, the hateful old 
 ghoul !" 
 
 " Locked your teacher up ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir; teachers requii\- locking up as well as pupils." 
 
 " Miss Lawless, it's not possible that you have been guilty 
 of such an outrageous act!" said the judge, with an awfuJ. 
 frown. 
 
 "Yes, it is possible,"' said Pet ; " and he deserves twice 
 as much for what he did. C)h, wouldn't I like to be a man 
 for one blessed half-hour, that I could horsewhip him within 
 an inch of his life ! " 
 
 Good IIeaven> 1 wiiat a visitation this n\ad 
 What has Mr. Garnet done, you dreadful girl ? " 
 
 girl is I 
 
idge, with 
 
 of war in 
 
 his brows 
 
 i up ! In 
 )cl<c'tl her 
 )riiig him 
 
 itely inan- 
 . If you 
 nr^ue, and 
 r." 
 
 how seri- 
 m talking 
 wful and 
 ly a word 
 and dear 
 y teacher 
 my non- 
 nt truth, 
 
 er, begin- 
 
 s. 
 
 ibrary for 
 
 teful old 
 
 s pupus. 
 :en guilty 
 an awful 
 
 I'es twice 
 be a man 
 im within 
 
 i girl is 1 
 
 r 
 
 PET GIVES HER TUTOR A LESSON. 237 
 
 «« Dreadful girl 1 " burst out Pet, indignantly, " there's the 
 way I'm abused for taking my own part. Your daughter s 
 teacher has been making all sorts of love to me all the whole 
 blessed morning 1 " and thereupon Pet commenced with a 
 " full, true, and authentic" account of her monung mterview 
 
 '" A^i'the^imige listened, the scowl on his brow grew blacker 
 and blacker till his face was like the doublc-rehncd essence 
 of a thunderbolt. IJut when Pet mentioned Ins threats and 
 indignity in refusing to free her, his rage burst all bounds, 
 and his wrath was a sight to see. ,,,.,, , j 
 
 M The villain! the scoundrel 1 the blackleg! the low-bred 
 hound! to dare to talk to my daughter m such a w-iiy 1 1 
 vow to Heaven I have a good mind to break every bone in 
 his body 1 To insult my daughter under her father s roof^ 
 and threaten her like this! Petronilla, where is the key? 
 I'll kick the impertinent puppy out of the house. ^ _ 
 
 " The key's in the door," said Pet. - I expect he s in 3 
 sweet frame of mird by this time." . 
 
 Up stairs, in a highly choleric state, marched the judge- 
 and tiu-ning the key in the library-door, he confronted Mr. 
 (lunet, who was striding up and down the room ui a way 
 not oarticularlv beneficial to the carpet, with Hashing eyes, 
 scowling browb, and an awful expression of countenance 
 generally, and began, in a tone of withering sarcasin : 
 
 " So, Mr. Garnet, you have done my daughter the honor 
 to propose for her hand this orning, and when thai digit 
 
 was refused you, you caught , and had the impudence to 
 
 insult her in her father's house. Oh ! you're a model teacher 
 of youth. Mr. Garnet 1 You're an exemplar^ young man to 
 be tr cd with the education of a young female. Come, sir. 
 out of my house, and if ever I catch sight of you agam. 1 U 
 cane you while I'm able to stand. Off with you tl^s in^ 
 stani." And the jud' •, who was as strong as half a dozen 
 broken-down roues like Garnet, caught hii 1 by tlie co lar 
 and unceremoniously dragged him down stairs. In vain the 
 ^«^W.7;« teacher strove to free himself, and make his voice 
 heard ; not a word would ih. judge listen to ; but upon reach- 
 in- the hall door, landed him by a well-applied kick on the 
 bro:- 1 of his back, and then in, slamming the door i-' 
 
 his face. 
 
 1!! 
 
•zit%trt 
 
 238 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 Crestfallen and mortified, Mr. Garnet picked himself up, 
 and glancing hurriedly around, beheld Petronilla standing 
 laughingly watching him at the window. A very fiend seemed 
 to leap into his eyes then, and shaking his fist at her, he 
 strode off breathing words of vengeance, " not loud, but 
 deep." 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 MR. TOOSVPEGS IN DISTRESS. 
 
 "Ah, me ! for aught that I could ever read, 
 Could ever hear by tale or history 
 The course of true love never did run smooth." 
 
 —Shakespeare. 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, it's kind of you to ask, but I ain't 
 \sell at all ; I'm very much obliged to you," said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, in a deeply dejected voice, as he walked into the par- 
 lor of the White Squall and took his seat without ever rais- 
 ing his eyes from the floor. 
 
 " Stand from under I " growled the admiral, in a tone like 
 a bear with the bronchitis, as he gave his glazed hat a slap 
 down on his head, and looked in a bewildered sort of way 
 at the melancholy face of Mr. O. C. Toosypegs. 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, it's my intention to stand from un- 
 der as much as possible," said Mr. Toosypegs, mournfully; 
 ' but, at the same time, I'm just as miserable as ever I can 
 be, thank you. I don't see what I was born for at all, either. 
 I dare say they meant well about it ; but at the same time, I 
 don't see what I was born for," said Mr. Toosypegs, with 
 increased mournfulness. 
 
 The admiral laid both hands on his knees, and leaning 
 over, looked solemnly into Mr. Toosypegs' face. Reading 
 no expression whatever in that " Book of Beauty " but the 
 mildest sort of dispair, he drew himself up again, and grunt- 
 ed out an adjuration to "heave ahead." 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, would you oblige me by not saying 
 that again ? " said Mr. Toosypegs, giving a sudden start, 
 and keeping his hand to his stomach with a grimace of ir- 
 tensest disgust. " You mean real well, I know ; but it re^ 
 
 ' » 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS IN DISTREvSS. 
 
 239 
 
 calls unpleasant recollections that I wish buried in oblivion. 
 Ugh ! " said Mr. Toosypegs, with a convulsive shudder. 
 
 The admiral looked appealingly at the great painting on 
 the mantel ; but as that offered no suggestion, he took off 
 his hat, gave his wig a vigorous scratching, as if to extract 
 a few ideas by the roots, and then clapping it on again, 
 faced around, and with renewed vigor began the attack. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Toosypegs, I'm considerable out of my lati- 
 tude, and if you'll just keep her round a point or so, I'll be 
 able to see my way clearer, and discover in which corner 
 the wind sets. What's the trouble, young man ? " 
 
 " The trouble, Admiral Havenful, is such that no amount 
 of words can ever express it. No, Admiral Havenful ! " ex- 
 claimed the unhappy Mr. Toosypegs, "all the words in all 
 the dictionaries, not to mention the spelling books, that 
 ever was printed, couldn't begin to tell you the way I feel. 
 It worries me so, and preys on my mind at such a rate that 
 my appetite ain't no circumstance to what it used to be. My 
 Sunday swallow-tails (the one with the brass buttons. Admiral 
 Havenful), that used to barely meet on me, goes clean around 
 me twice now. I don't expect to live long at this rate, but I 
 guess it's pleasantest lying in the graveyard than living 
 in this vale of tears," added Mr. Toosypegs, with a melan- 
 choly snuffle. 
 
 Once again the perplexed admiral looked helplessly at 
 the picture ; but the work of art maintained a strict neu- 
 trality, and gave him not the slightest assistance. Then he 
 glanced at Mr. Toosypegs, but still nothing was to be read 
 in those pallid, freckled features, but the mildest sort of 
 anguish. The admiral was beginning to lose patience. 
 
 " Belay there I belay 1 " he roared, bringing his fist down 
 -with a tremendous thud on his unoffending knee. " Come 
 to the point at once, Orlando Toosypegs 1 What the dickens 
 is the matter ? " 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, don't swear 1 " exclaimed Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, looking deeply scandalized. " I dare say you mean 
 well ; but profane swearing isn't so edifying as it might be. 
 I've a little tract ?t home that tells about a boy that told 
 another boy to ' go to blazes 1 ' and three years after he fell 
 out of a fourth-story window and broKc tv/o Oi uiS iSgs, anu 
 some of his arms. That shows the way profane swearing is 
 
 I* 
 
J,^>mLJ.LM.A%iiiT 
 
 '31 Wini 
 
 240 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 punished. I'll bring you over the book some day, Admiral 
 Havenful, if you like ; it's a very interesting story to read 
 about." 
 
 The admiral fell back with a groan. 
 
 " I haven't read anything lately but the ' Lamentations of 
 Jeremiah,' " said Mr. Toosypegs, resuming his former objec- 
 tions ; " it's very soothing to the feelings, though I can't lay 
 it to heart so much as I would like to, on account of Aunt 
 Priscilla scolding all the time. She means real well, I know, 
 but it ain't so pleasant to listen to as sorr.e things I've heard. 
 I laid awake all last night crying, but it don't seem to do 
 me much good." 
 
 And Mr. Toosypegs wiped his eyes with his handkerchief. 
 
 The ad.niral said nothing ; he had evidently given up the 
 point in dispair. 
 
 "I wouldn't mention this to anybody but you, Admiral 
 Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs; " because my feelings are 
 so dreadfully lacerated it's a great affliction to me to speak 
 of 11. I know you won't tell anybody that I've revealed it, 
 because I would feel real bad about it if you did." 
 
 " Orlando Toosypegs, just stand by a minute, will you ? " 
 said the admiral, in the tone of a patient but persecuted 
 saint. "Now, hold on — what have you revealed to me? 
 what have you told me ? There's two questions I'd feel 
 obliged to anybody to answer." 
 
 " Why, my goodness 1 " said Mr. Toosypegs, in much sur- 
 prise, " haven't I told you ? Why I thought I had. Well, 
 then. Admiral Havenful, I've went and fell in love, and 
 that's all there is about it." 
 
 " Maintopsail haul ! " roared the admiral, immeasurably 
 relieved ; " who'd ever have thought it ? Who is she, Or- 
 lando ? " said the admiral, lowering his voice to a husky 
 whispct^ 
 
 " Vour n:ece. Miss Pet Lawless," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 blushing deeply. 
 
 This announcement took the admiral so much by surprise 
 that he could only give vent to it by another appealing 
 glance at the picture, and a stifled growl of " Splice the 
 main-brace I " 
 
 " Admiral ILivenful, it's my intention to splice the main- 
 brace as much as possible. I'm very much obliged to you," 
 
 i 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS IN DISTRESS. 
 
 241 
 
 i 
 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, gratefully, "but, at the same time, I'm 
 afraid it won't do me the least good. I know very well she 
 don't care anything about me, and will go and marry some- 
 body else some day. liy gracious ! " exclaimed Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, with the energy of desperation, " I've a good mind to 
 go and do something to myself, whenever I think of it. 
 Why, it's enough to make a fellow go and heave himself 
 away into an untimely grave — so it is." 
 
 " Don't, Orlando, don't," said the admiral, in a tone of 
 grave rebuke ; " it's not proper to talk so. When you come 
 to overhaul your conscience , by-and-by, you'll be sorry for 
 such rash threats. Now, look here — I'm going to talk to 
 you for your own good. Does Pet know you've gone and 
 splashed your affections onto her ? " 
 
 " Good gracious, no 1 " ejaculated Mr. Toosypegs, in much 
 alarm ; " I wouldn't tell her for anything — no, not for any 
 amount of money you could give me for doing it, Admiral 
 Havenful. — Oh, my goodness I the idea 1 why, she would 
 laugh at me. Admiral Havenful." 
 
 " Avast there, messmate 1 avast I " growled the admiral, 
 administering a thump to his glazed hat. " Now, look here. 
 When a young man goes and falls into love with a young 
 woman, what does he do ? or, what do they do ? " 
 
 "I'm sure I don't know. Admiral Havenful," said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, looking dejectedly at the carpet ; " I never was 
 in love before, you know, and it's just the queerest feeling 
 ever was. I never experienced anything like it before. It's 
 not like the colic, or the toothache, or a cramp, or any- 
 thing : you feel — well, I don't know as I can describe it ; but 
 you kind of feel all over. And whenever I meet Miss Pet 
 suddenly and she turns them two great, black eyes of hers 
 right onto me — my gracious 1 Admiral Havenful, the state 
 it sets me into 1 Why, I actually feel as if I'd like to crawl 
 out of the toes of my boots or have the carpet open and 
 swallow me up." 
 
 And, Mr, Toosypegs, carried away by the exciting recol 
 lection, got up and paced up and down two or three times, 
 and then dropped back into his seat and began wiping his 
 heated visage with the flaming bandanna so often spoken of. 
 
 " Belay i belay i ' said the admiral, impatiently ; " you're 
 Steering in the wrong direction altogether, Orlando. Now, 
 
 I 'J 
 
 i 
 
12SMI i^ 9 SWU" 
 
 *ai w#« 
 
 42 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 •:'. 1 
 
 lii 
 
 look here; I asked you, 'when a young man goes and falls 
 in love with a young woman, what does he do ? ' and says 
 you ' I don't know, Admiral Havenful.' Well, now look here ; 
 I'll tell you. When a young man goes and falls in love with a 
 young woman, 7i>/iaf does he do ? Why, Orlando Toosypegs, 
 he goes and marries her. That's what he does I " 
 
 And hereupon the admiral administered another vigorous 
 slap to his glazed hat, that very nearly stove in the crown of 
 that ill-used head-piece ; and leaning back in his chair, looked 
 with excusable triumph and exultation at Mr. Toosypegs, 
 Tiiat young gentleman gave a sudden start, such as people 
 are in the habit of giving when they sit on a tin tack turned 
 up, and got very red, but did not reply. 
 
 " Now, look here, Orlando Toosypegs," reiterated the ad- 
 miral, bringing the forefinger of his right hand impressively 
 down on the palm of his left, " they goes and gets married. 
 That's what they does." 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs gave another start, which could only be 
 justified by the idea of another upturned tin tack, and 
 blushed deeper than ever, but still replied never a word. 
 
 " They goes and gets married. That there's what they 
 does," repeated the admiral, folding his arms and leaning 
 serenely back, like a man who has settled the matter forever. 
 " And now, Orlando Toosypegs, in the words of Scripture," — 
 here the admiral got up and took off his glazed hat — " ' go 
 thou, and do likewise.' " 
 
 And then clapping his hat on again, with a triumphant 
 slap, he sat down and 'ooked Mr. Toosypegs straight and 
 unwinkingly in the face. 
 
 "Admiral Havenful, I'm very much obliged to you, I'm 
 sure," said the " lovyer," in a subdued tone; "but — but 
 maybe she wouldn't have me. She might, just as likely as 
 not, say ' No,' Admiral Havenful." 
 
 This was a view of the case the admiral had never once 
 taken, and it took him so completely " aback," to use his 
 own phrase, that he could only cast another appealing glance 
 at the picture and growl a low, bewildered adjuration to so- 
 ciety in general, to " Stand from under 1 " 
 
 " I shouldn't be a bit surprised if she said * No,' Admiral 
 Havenful ; not one bit, sir," said Mr. Toosypegs, mournful- 
 ly ; " it's my luck, always, to have the most dreadful things 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS IN DISTRESS. 
 
 243 
 
 go 
 
 u, I'm 
 
 : — but 
 t\y as 
 
 happen to me I I declare it's enough to make a fellow mad 
 enough to go and do something to himself — it actually is." 
 
 " Don't now, Orlando, don't now," said the admiral, se- 
 verely ; " it isn't proper, you know, and you really shouldn't. 
 There's a proverb I'm trying to think of," said the admiral, 
 knitting his brow in intense perplexity ; " you know the 
 Book of Proverbs, Orlando, don't you ? Hold on, now, till I 
 see : ' Fain ' — no — yes, ' P'ain heart — fain heart never won a 
 fair lady.' " Again the old sailor reverentially removed his 
 hat. " That's it, Orlando j ' fain heart never won fair lady.' 
 Now, look here: you go straight along and ask Firefly if 
 she's willing to cruise under your flag through life, and if 
 she lays her hand in yours, and says ' I'm there, messmate I ' 
 by St. Paul Jones I we'll have such a wedding as never was 
 seen in old Maryland since Calvert came over. Hoorah 1 " 
 yelled the admiral, waving his hat over his head in an un- 
 expected outburst of delight, that quite startled Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs. 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, I'll doit! I will, by granny ! " ex- 
 claimed Mr. Toosypegs jumping up in the excitement of the 
 moment. " I'll go right straight over to Heath Hill and ask 
 her. Why, she actually might say * Yes,' after all. Oh, my 
 gracious 1 if she does, won't it be nice ? What will aunt Pris- 
 ciller say ? Admiral Havenful, it was real kind of you to advise 
 me so, and tell me what to do; and I'm ever so much 
 obliged to you — I really am," said Mr. Toosypegs, bus- 
 tling around, and putting on his hat, and turning to go. 
 
 " Keep her to the wind's eye ! " roared the admiral, m a 
 burst of enthusiasm, as he brought one tremendous sledge- 
 hammer fist down with an awful thump on the table. 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, it is my intention to keep her to the 
 wind's eye as much as possible," said Mr. Toosypegs, who 
 comprehended the sentence about as much as he would a 
 Chinese funeral-oration. " Good-by, now ; I'll come right 
 back when it's over, and tell you what she said." 
 
 And IhvC the frog immortalized in Mother Goose, who 
 " would a-wooing go," Mr. O. C. Toosypegs " set olf with 
 his opera-hat," on that expedition so terrifying to bashful 
 young men — that of going to " pop the question." 
 
 Hr 
 
'.#M'< 
 
 "rerrr 
 
 '211 w#^ 
 
 «44 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 -I ( 
 
 I . 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 PET " RESPECTFULLY DECLINES." 
 
 •' Doubt the stars are fire- 
 Doubt the sun doth move — 
 Doubt truth to be a liar, 
 But never doubt I love."— Hami^et. 
 
 In all the ardor of his momentary excitement, Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs got astride of a serious-looking pony, a family relation 
 of the admiral's favorite nag, Ringbone, and set out at a shuf- 
 flmg gallop for Heath Hill. Mr. Toosypegs did not look 
 quite so pretty on horseback as some people might suppose : 
 for he went jigging up and down with every motion of his 
 steed, and being remarkably long in the legs, his feet were 
 never more than a few inches from the ground ; so that 
 altogether, he was not the most dashing rider you would 
 have selected to lead a charge of cavalry. But Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs was not thinking of his looks just then, but of a far 
 more important subject— trying to screw his courage to the 
 sticking-point. The further he went, the faster his new- 
 found courage began oozing away. As the White Squall 
 receded, so did his daring determination ; and as the full 
 extent of the mission he was on burst out on him, a cold 
 perspiration slowly burst out on his face, despite the warmth 
 of the day. 
 
 awful : I know it is ! " 
 .)cgs, wiping his face with the cuff of 
 his coat. " And 1. w I'm ever going to get through with it, 
 I'm sure I don't knov,-. I wish to goodness 1 had never 
 said nothing about it! If only knew any man that's in 
 the hai)it of proposing, he could tell me bow tliev do it. 
 and tiicn I wouldn't mind. But now — by granny ! I've 
 a good mind to turn, and go right back to"" Dismal Hol- 
 low. But then, the admiral— what will he say ? Well, I 
 don't care what h.- says. How would he like to go and 
 pop the question himself, I wonder ? By gracious ! fwill go 
 
 " Good gracious ! it's going to be 
 exclaimed Mr. T 
 
PET "RESPECTFULLY DECLINES." 245 
 
 back. It's no use thinking about it ; for I'd sooner be 
 chawed alive by rattlesnakes, and then kicked to death by 
 grasshoppers, than go and tell Miss Pet the way I feel. 
 I couldn't tell her the way I feel ; its the most peculiar 
 sensation ever was. And them black eyes of hers 1 Land 
 of hope and blessed promise I the way they do go right 
 through a fellow's vest pattern I How in the world so 
 many men can manage to get married is more than I know ; 
 for I'd sooner march up to the muzzle of a pistol while 
 
 '^" ^' Whoa, 
 
 Dismal 
 
 Old Nick held the trigger, than go and do it ! 
 
 going 
 
 home 
 
 It 
 to 
 
 Charlie 1 Turn round. I'm 
 Hollow 1 " 
 
 Whir, whir, whir! came something, with lightning-like 
 rapidity, over the soft heath. Mr. Toosypegs turned round ; 
 and there came Miss Pet herself, flying along like tlie wind, 
 on her fleet Arabian, her cheeks crimson, her splendid eyes 
 blazing, her red lips smiling ; her short, jetty curls flying in 
 the wind she herself raised ; her long, raven-black plume 
 just touching her scarlet cheeks ; the red rings of flame 
 flashing out in the sunlght from her dazzling eyes and 
 hair. She was bewildering, dazzling, blinding ! Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs had his breath completely taken away as his heart had 
 long since been, and in that moment fell more deepy, deplor- 
 ably, and helplessly in love than ever. Every idea was 
 instantaneously put to flight by this little dark, bright bird- 
 of-paradise---this blinding little grenade, all fire, and jets, 
 and sparkles. 
 
 " Halloa, Orlando ! Your very humble servant ! " shouted 
 Pet, as she laughingly dashed up, touching her hat gallantly 
 to the gentleman. " Hov/ does your iniperial highness find 
 yourself this glorious day ? " 
 
 " A— pretty miserable, thank you. A — I mean I ain't 
 very_ well, Miss Pet." said Mr. Toosypegs, stammering, and 
 breaking down. 
 
 " Not very well, eh? Why, what's the matter? Not 
 cholera-morbus, or measles or a galloping-decline, or any- 
 thing—is it ? " said Pet, in a tone of deepest anxiety. " The 
 gods forbid anything should happen to you, Orlando, for the 
 sake nf all Tudestown L'^irls wliose hearts ynu hnvf broken ' 
 You do look sort of blue — a prey to 'green and yellow 
 melancholy,' I shouldn't wonder I Make Miss Priscilla apply 
 
X^^tFtw 
 
 ■a I wn 
 
 246 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 a mustard-poultice when you get home — it doesn't matter 
 where — and go to bed with your feet in a tub of hot water, 
 and I'll bet you a'^ytlnng you'll be as well as ever, if not 
 considerably better, in the morning. I'm going to take in 
 nursing some of these days, and ought to know I " 
 
 " Miss Pet, it's real good of you to advise me, and I'm 
 very much obliged to you," said Mr. Toosypegs, gratefully ; 
 " but, at the same time, I don't believe mustard-poultices 
 and tubs of hot water would do me the first mite of good. 
 No, Miss Pet, not all the hot water in all the hot springs 
 that ever was, could do me the least good," said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, firmly. " I'm in that state that nothing can do 
 me any good— no, no, nothing I " repeated Mr. Toosypegs, 
 with increased firmness. " It's all internal, you see, Miss 
 Pet." ' ' 
 
 " Oh 1 is it ? " said Pet, puckering up her mouth as if she 
 was going to whistle. " You ought to take something, then, 
 and drive it out I Hot gin, or burnt brandy and cayenne is 
 good— excessively good — though not so nice to take as some 
 things I've tasted. Just you take a pint or so of hot burnt 
 brandy and cayenne to-night, before going to bed, and you'll 
 see it will be all out in a severe rash early to-morrow morning. 
 I'm advising you for your good, Orlando ; for I fell like a 
 motner to you — in fact, I feel a motherly interest in all the 
 nice young men in Judestowr and the surrounding country 
 generally, for any extent you please, and am always ready to 
 give them no end of good advice, if they only take it." 
 
 " It's real good of you. Miss Pet I'm sure," said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, wincing, as the very thought of the hot brandy 
 and cayenne brought tears to his eyes, " and I would be 
 real glad to take your advice, and brandy, only what ails me 
 can't be brought out in a rash. No, Miss Pet, all the brandy 
 from hereto Brandywine," said Mr. Toosypegs — with a hazy 
 idea that all ardent spirits came from that place — " couldn't 
 do it. It"s real good of you, though, to recommend it ; and 
 I'm very much obliged to you, I'm sure." 
 
 " Well, really, I'm afraid I'll have to give the case up, 
 though I hate to do it. What's the symptoms, Orlando ? " 
 
 " The what. Miss Pet ? " 
 
 '* The symptoms, you know— I don't exactly understand 
 the word mvself ; and I forgot my dictionary when I was 
 
PET "RESPECTFULLY DECLINES." 247 
 
 coming away. It means, though, the feelings or something 
 that way — how do you feel as a general thing ? " 
 
 " Well, I can't say I feel very well," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 mournfully. " I'm sort of restless, and can't sleep of nights I '"' 
 
 " Ah I that's owing to the musketoes 1 " said Pet. " That 
 ain't dangerous. Go on." 
 
 " No, Miss Pet it's not the musketoes; it's my feelings," 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, with increased mournfulness. " I've 
 lost my appetite 1 " 
 
 " Well, I'm sure I don't wonder at that, either," again 
 interrupted Pet. " Miss Priscilla half-starves you over there 
 —I know she does. Just you come over and dine with us 
 two or three times a week, at Heath Hill, and you'll be 
 astonished slightly at the way you'll hnd your appetite again. 
 Oh, I don't despair of you at all 1 " 
 
 " Miss Pet," burst out Mr. Toosypegs, in a sort of 
 desperation, " it's very good of you to ask me, and I'm very 
 much obliged to you; but you don't understand my feelings 
 at all. It's an unfortunate attachment — " 
 
 " An attachment ? " exclaimed Pet. "Whew ! that is bad. 
 Why, Orlando, I didn't thmk you owed anybody anything. 
 When was this attachment issued against you > " 
 
 " Oh, Miss Pet I can't you understand ? My gracious I that 
 ain't the sort of attachment I mean at all. It's not legal—" 
 
 " Then it's illegal," said Miss Pet, with a profoundly- 
 shocked expression of countenance. " Why, Mr. Toosy 
 pegs, where do you expect to go to ? I never- ex- 
 pected to have any such confession from your lips. 
 An illegal attachment I Mr. Toosypegs, the community 
 generally look upon you as a highly exemplary young man, 
 but I feel it my painful duty to announce to them immedi- 
 ately how they have been deceived. An illegal attachment 1 
 Oh, my stars and garters 1 Excuse me, Mr. Toosypegs, but 
 after such a highly improper confession, I must bid you good- 
 morning. No young and unsuspecting female like me can 
 be seen with propriety in your company for the future. I 
 am very sorry, Mr. Toosypegs, and I should never have 
 suspected you of such shocking conduct had you not con- 
 fessed it yourself." And Pet drew herself up, and r.i,t on 
 that severely-moral expression only seen on the faces of 
 
•^i%Mn 
 
 248 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i! 
 
 school-mistresses and committeemen when lecturing young 
 ideas on the proper way to shoot. 
 
 " Good gracious 1 " exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, in a 
 distracted tone, nearly driven out of his senses by tliis 
 harangue. " Oh, land of hope ! was a fellow that never 
 done nothing to nobody ever talked to like this before ? By 
 granny 1 it's enough to make a fellow get as mad as any- 
 thing ; so it is 1 Why, Miss Pet, I haven't done anything 
 improper— I wouldn't for any price; upon my word and 
 honor, I wouldn't. I've fell in love with — a — with — a young 
 lady, and I don't see where's the harm of it. It's unkind of 
 you, Miss Pet, to speak so, and I don't see what I've ever 
 done to deserve it. You mean real well, I'm sure, but it 
 makes a fellow feel bad to be talked to in thi? way all the 
 time," said Mr. Toosypegs, with a stifled whimper. 
 
 " Well, there, don't ' ry, Orlando," said Pet, soothingly, 
 " and I v,on't say another word. What young lady have 
 you had the misfortune to fall in love with ? " 
 
 "Miss Pet, excuse me, but I — I'd rather not tell, if it's all 
 the same," replied Mr. Toosypegs, blushing deeply. 
 
 "Oh, fool I tell me, as a friend, you know. Won't ever 
 mention it again, so help me ! Do I know her?" 
 
 " Ye— yes, Miss Pet, slightly." 
 
 " Hem ! It isn't Annie Grove? " 
 
 " No, Miss Pet — why, she's forty years old, if she's a day," 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, indignantly. 
 
 "Yes, I know — twenty-five, she says; but she's been that 
 as far back as the oldest inhabitant can remember. Well, 
 then, Jessie Masters ? " 
 
 " Miss Pet, allow me to say I ain't in the habit of falling 
 in love with women with wooden legs," said the young gen- 
 tleman, with dignity. 
 
 "Well, I didn't know; it's cheaper, in shoe-leather, espe- 
 cially. Hem-m-ni 1 Perhaps it's Mrs. Jenkins ? " 
 
 "Mrs. Jenkins! a widow I No, Miss Pei, it ain't. I 
 should think you might know I don't like second-hand 
 women," said Mr. Toosypegs, as near being indignant as 
 he ever was in his life. 
 
 " Well, who the mischief can it be then ! It must be 
 Huldah Rice." 
 
 " A little stout thing, with — with a hump, and cross-eyes ? 
 
PET "RESPECTFULLY DECLINEvS. 
 
 249 
 
 Miss Pet, it ain't 1 " exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, with tears of 
 vexation in iiis eyes. 
 
 " Not her, either? then I give up. Who is it, Orlando .> " 
 
 " Miss Pet, I don't like to tell— you'll laugh at me," said 
 Mr. Toosypegs, blushing deeply. 
 
 "Laugii ! No, I won't ; honor bright! I'll look as grim 
 as a deatlv's-head and cross-bones ! Now then, out with it !" 
 
 " Miss Pet, it's— it's— " 
 
 « Yes— well ? " 
 
 " It's—" 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " It's ^vw," fairly shouted Mr. Toosypegs, driven to des- 
 peration by her perseverance. 
 
 •' Me ! O ye gods and goddesses, without skirts or 
 bodices ! Me I Great Jehosaphat 1 I'll know what it feels 
 like to be unexpectedly struck by a cannon-ball, after this 1 
 Me ! Well, I never ! " 
 
 " Miss Pet, I knew you would laugh ; I knew it all along, 
 and I told him so this morning," said Mr. Toosypegs, with 
 a sniflle ; " you mean well, I dare say, but it don't seem kind 
 at all." 
 
 •' Laugh I " exclaimed Pet ; " come, I like that, and my 
 face as long as an undertaker's ! You may take a microsope 
 and look from this until the week after next, and then you 
 you won't discover the ghost of a smile on my countenance. 
 Laugh, indeed 1 I'm above such a weakness, I hope," said 
 Pet, with ineffable contempt. 
 
 " Then, Miss Pet, perhaps you will have me," said Mr. 
 Toosypegs, with sudden hope. " Miss Pet, I can't begin to 
 tell you the way I love you ; you can't have any idea of it ; 
 it goes right through and through me. I think of you all 
 day, and I dream about you all night. I'm in the most 
 dreadful way about you, ever was. Miss Pet, I'd do any- 
 thing you told me to. I'd go and drown myself if you 
 wanted me to, or shoot myself, or take ratsbane, and 
 rather like it than otherwise, if you'll only have me, Miss 
 Pet—" 
 
 " Orlando, I'm very sorry; but — I can't." 
 
 " Miss Pet, you don't mean it ; you can't mean it, surely. 
 I know I ain't so good-looking as some," said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, in a melancholy tone ; " but I can get something to 
 
 f 
 
 III 
 
"Til %^t% 
 
 250 
 
 THR GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i I 
 
 take the freckles olT, and I expect to fatten out a little by- 
 ancl-bv, so--" 
 
 •' Now, don't go to any such trouble for me," said Pet, 
 with diffculty keeping from laughing at his mildly-anguished 
 look. " I don't mind the freckles at all ; I rather like them, 
 in fact; they vary the monotony of the complexion, just as 
 
 oases do in the deserts we read of ; and as for being thin 
 
 well, I'm rather on the hatchet-pattern myself, you know. 
 But you must quit thinking about me, Orlando, because I m 
 only a wild little Tomboy, that everybody gets furious about, 
 and I never intend to get married at all—that is, unless-^ 
 well, never nuiul," 
 
 " Miss Pet, if you only knew how badly in love I am." 
 
 " Oh, you only think so ; you'll forget me in a week I " 
 
 " I'll never forget you, Miss Pet, never— not even if I was 
 
 to be taken out of this world altogether, and sent up to New 
 
 Jersey. It's awful to think you won't have me— it really is," 
 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, in great -mental distress. 
 
 "Well, I'm sorry, Orlando, but I can't lielp it, you know. 
 Now be a good boy for my sake, and try to forget me — won't 
 you ? " asked Pet, coaxingly. 
 
 "I'll try to, Miss Pet, since you wish it," said poor Mr. 
 Toosypegs, with tears in his eyes ; " but it's blamed hard. 
 I wish to gracious I had never been born— I just dol I 
 don't see where is the good of it at all." 
 
 " Oh, now, Orlando, you mustn't feel bad about it, because 
 It won't amount to anything,'' said Pet, in a consoling tone; 
 " don't let us talk any more about it. Guess what I heard 
 •ast night over at Judestown." 
 
 'I I'm sure I don't know. Miss Pet," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 2:iving his eyes and nose a vigorous wiping with his hand- 
 kerchief. 
 
 " Well, then, that the gang of smugglers who have been 
 for so long a time suspected of having a rendezvous around 
 the coast somewhere, have been seen at last. Two or three 
 of them were observed pulling off in a boat, the other night, 
 and going on board a dark, suspicious-looking schooner, an- 
 chored down the bay. They are known to have a hiding- 
 place somewhere around here, but the good folks of Judes- 
 town r.in't discover it, and consequently arc in a state of 
 mmd at having such desperadoes near them. I am going 
 
GRKEK MEETS GRI.EK. 
 
 351 
 
 to hunt all over the shore far and near ivsclf, this very day, 
 an;l see if my eyes are not shaiper than those of the lucies- 
 town officials. Oh, 1 would love, of all things, to discover 
 their hiding-place ; ;,erhaps my smartness wouldn't astonish 
 the natives slightly." 
 
 " But, good gracious, Miss Pet 1 if they get hold of you," 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, his blood ruiiiiing chill with horror at 
 the very idea ; " why, it would be awful."' 
 
 " If they did," said Pet, " they would find, as others have 
 done, to their cost, before now, that they had caught a Tar- 
 tar; a snap-dragon; a pepper-pod ; an angel in petticoats I 
 Oh, they'd have their hands full in every sense of the word. 
 I'm bound to go on my exploring e.xpedition this afternoon, 
 wind and weather permitting, anyway, and see what will be 
 the result. Where are you going, may I ask ? " 
 
 " To Dismal Hollow, or — no. I've got to go to the White 
 Squall, first." 
 
 "Very well; I wo", -letain you, then. I'm olf to Judes- 
 town good-by ; romemLu • me to uncle Harry," 
 
 And giving he j:iunty, ,-'umed hat another gallant touch. 
 Firefly dashed ofi, l« yiaf; Vir. Toosypegs gazing dejectedly 
 after her until the L v, (\M*-.ir of her dark riding-habit vanished 
 amid the trees ; and wien he slowly and mournfully turned 
 his solemn-faced nag in the directii ri of the White Squall, 
 to tell the admiral the unsatisfactory result of his proposal. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 
 
 " • I scorn,' quoth she, « thou coxcomb silly, 
 Quarter or counsel from a foe. 
 If thou canst force me to it, uu.' "— Hudibras. 
 
 " I had rather chop this hand off at a blow. 
 And with the other fling it in thy face. 
 Than stoop to thee." — Shakspeare. 
 
 Petronilla rode gayly along to the little bustling, half- 
 village, half-city, Judestown, thinking over her late surprising 
 proposal, and scarcely knowitig whether to laugh at or pity 
 poor Mr. Toosypegs. As she reached the town these thoughts 
 
UM It 9 IWfT 
 
 '31 Wn 
 
 252 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 were dispelled by the busy scenes aiound, and Pet found her- 
 self fully occupied in nodding to her various friends and ac- 
 quaintances as she passed. 
 
 Pet's destination was the post-office, a large building which 
 served as a store, hotel, and post, all in one. As she drew 
 rein at the door, the mail-coach drew up, and Pet lingered 
 where she was a moment, in order to avoid the crowd. 
 
 The passengers crowded in, and as the coach-door opened. 
 a young gentleman sprung out and assisted a lady, closely 
 veiled, to alight. Neither of them noticed Pet ; so they did 
 iiot observe her quick start, her sudden flush, and the vivid 
 lighting up of her beautiful eyes. 
 
 These outward and very unwonted signs of emotion on 
 Pet's part passed away as quickly as they came, and in one 
 minute more she was as cool, saucy and composed as ever. 
 
 " Is there any one here who will drive us to Old Barrens 
 Cottage ? " said the young gentleman, glancing at the land- 
 lord. 
 
 "Yes, sir; in ten minutes, sir; just step in, sir; my boy's 
 gone off in a gig with a gent, but he'll be back soon. Walk 
 right in this way, sir," replied the obsequious landlord, witli 
 a profusion of bows to the well-dressed aud distinguished- 
 looking stranger before him. 
 
 "I would rather not wait," said the gentleman. "Can 
 you not let me have some other conveyance, and I will cfrive 
 over myself ? " 
 
 " Very sorry, sir, but they're all engaged. Just step in, 
 sir. you and your good lady, sir." 
 
 Pet fancied she heard a low. sweet laugh from under the 
 thick, brown veil, and the gentleman smiled as he folknvcd 
 the bustling host into the well-sanded parlor. 
 
 In one moment Pet was off her horse, and consigning 
 him to the care of tlie hostler, darted in by a side door and 
 rung a peal that presently brouglit the hostess, a pleasant- 
 faced, fat, little woman, in a tremendous flutter, into the 
 room. 
 
 " Laws 1 Miss l\'tronilla, is it you ? Why, you haven't 
 been to see me this long time. How do you do ? " 
 
 " I'm very well, thank you, Mrs. Gudge ; but see here— 
 did you notice that gentleman and lady who have iust gone 
 into the parlor } " 
 
GREEK MEETS GREEK. 
 
 253 
 
 " That tall, handsome young man, with all them there 
 mustaches? — yes, I seen him, Miss Pet." 
 
 '* Well, do you know who he is ? " 
 
 " No ; though it does kinder seem to me as if I'd seen him 
 somewhere before. The lady, his wife, I take it, kept her 
 veil down, and I couldn't see her face. No; I don't know 
 'em. Miss Pet." 
 
 "Well, that don't matter; I do. And now, Mrs. Gudge, 
 I want you to help me in a splendid piece of — of — " 
 
 " Mischief, Miss Pet," said the woman, slyly. 
 
 " No, not exactly — just fun. I want you to bring a suit 
 of your son Bob's clothes up here. I'm going to dress my- 
 self in them, and when he comes with the gig let me drive 
 them over. My riding-habit and pony can remain here till 
 I send for them." 
 
 " Now, Miss Pet — " 
 
 " Now, Mrs. Gudge, don't bother nif: : Go, like a dear 
 old soul. I'll give you a kiss if you do.' 
 
 " But the judge—" 
 
 "Oh, the judge won't know anything about it unless you 
 tell him. There, be off 1 I want to be dressed before Bob 
 comes. If you don't hurry I'll lost he most splendid joke 
 ever was. Hurry now 1 Put Mr. Gudge up to it, so the 
 cat won't get out of the bag." 
 
 With a deprecating shake of her head and upturning of 
 her eyes, the little hostess bustled out, inwardly wondering 
 what " Miss Pet would do next." 
 
 Pet, in the meantime, with her wicked black eyes scin- 
 tillating with the prospect of coming fun, was rapidly divest- 
 ing herself of her hat and riding-habit. And then little Mrs. 
 Gudge made hur appearance with her son and heir's " .Sun- 
 day-go-to-meetin's " and stayed to assist the fairy in her 
 frolic, and find out who the handsome owner of the " mus- 
 tarchcrs " was. Ikit Pet was as close as a clam, and only 
 laughed at the landlady's " pumping," while she dived des- 
 perately into Bob's pants and coat, which — except being 
 narrow where Pet thought they ought to be wide, and wide 
 where they ought to be narrow, fitted her very well. Then 
 she combed her short, dancing, black curls to one side, over 
 her round, boyish forehead, and setting upon them a jaunty 
 Scotch cap, stood there, bright, saucy, and smiling, as hand- 
 
"31 w«ni 
 
 254 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 h 
 If 
 
 r 
 
 some and dashing a little fellow as you could see in a long 
 summer-day. ° 
 
 " Well, laws ! you do make a pretty boy and no mistake 
 Miss Pet," said the woman, admiringly ; " them handsome 
 eyes of yours and shaking, shining curls is jest the thing 1 But 
 your hands— they're a heap too small and deliky-lookinff for 
 a boy's. ' ° 
 
 "Oh! well, I'll rub some mud on them when I get out 
 They're not the whitest in the world anyway ; and besides^ 
 they won t look very closely at a little cab-boy's hands " 
 
 " Now, if you want to be like a boy, you must take loner 
 steps, and stick your hands in your pockets, and swear! 
 Can you swear. Miss Pet ? " said the woman, seriously 
 
 "Well, I never tried," said Pet, laughing; "and as I 
 don t know any oaths off by heart, I guess I won't mind, for 
 fear the effect wouM be a failure." 
 
 .. *,7u^ "" ?}^y y'''' '^°"'^'" ^""'^ ^'^- Gudge, thoughtfully , 
 all boys allers swears at the horses. You must look sassy 
 — but that comes natural enough to you; and you had better 
 smoke a pipe or chew some tobacco, on the road— which 
 will you do, Miss Pet ? " 
 
 "Well, really, Mrs. Gudge, I'd rather not do either, if it's 
 all the same to you," said Pet ; "but you mus'n't keep call- 
 ing me ' Miss Pet,' you know; my name's Bob, now, Bob 
 Gudge." 
 
 " So it is. Laws ! if it ain't funny ; but I'm afraid they'll 
 hnd you out if you don't do none of those things. Can vou 
 whistle. Miss— Bob, I mean ? " 
 
 For reply. Pet puckered up her rosy mouth, and whistled 
 Hail Columbia," in away that made little Mrs. Gud-^e's 
 eyes snap with delight. 
 
 " Here comes Bob ! " she cried, as a gig came rattling into 
 the yard. " You wait here a minute and I'll fix thines all 
 right. ' ° 
 
 Out flew Mrs. Gudge, and called ofT Bob to some secret 
 corner, and then she showed her head in at the door and 
 called : 
 
 " Come, now. Miss— Bob, and drive round t the front 
 door while I tell the lady and gentleman all's right now " 
 
 Pet, imitating Bob's shuffling swagger, went out to the 
 yard, sprung up on the front seat, took the reins, and« io 
 
GREEK MEETS GREEK. 
 
 255 
 
 masterly style, turned the horses, and drove around to the 
 front door. 
 
 Scarcely had she got there and struck up " Hail Columbia " 
 in her shrillest key, than the dark, handsome gentleman 
 with the " mustarchers " came out with the lady, who was 
 still veiled, followed by the host and hostess, on whose faces 
 rested a broad grin. Pet, with her cap pulled over her eyes, 
 to shade them from the hot sun, and also to subdue their 
 dark, bright splendor a little, sat whistling away, looking as 
 cool as a cucumber, if not several degrees cooler. 
 
 The young gentleman handed the lady in, and she took 
 her place on the back seat. 
 
 " Now, Minnie, I'm going to sit here with the driver and 
 have a chat with him," said the young man ; " these cun- 
 ning little vagrants know everything." 
 
 The shrill whistle rose an octave higher. 
 
 " Very well," said the young lady, in low, laughing tones ; 
 " anything to put an end to that piercing whistle. I suppose 
 he cannot talk to you and whistle together ? " 
 
 " Can't I, though ? " thought the small urchin, who held 
 the reins. " We'll see that. Miss Erminie Germaine," and 
 higher and higher still rose the sharp, shrill notes. 
 
 " Come, my lad, start," cried the gentleman, springing in, 
 " and if it's not too much trouble, might I request you to 
 stop whistling ? It may be, and no doubt is, owing to our 
 bad taste, but we cannot appreciate it as it deserves." 
 
 " Don't see no harm in whistling ; nobody never objects 
 to it," said Pet, imitating to perfection the gruff, surly tones 
 of Master Bob. "I'm fond of music myself, if you aint, 
 and so is the hoss, who would not go a step if I didn't 
 whistle; so I'll just keep on if it's all the same to 
 you." 
 And another stave of <' Hail Columbia " pierced the air. 
 
 " How long does it take you to drive to the Barrens I " 
 
 " Well, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter ; and 
 then again not so long," said the driver, touching the horse 
 daintily with his whip. 
 
 ''Quite enlightened, thank you! Do you know the 
 family at old Barrens cottage ? " 
 
 " There ain't no family there ; there's only the old woman 
 what can't walk or nothin' ; and a nigger. Them two don't 
 
"raCU! — in-79 — f 
 
 on 
 
 256 TPIE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 make one whole member of society, let Plone a family Was 
 you acquainted witli them, square ? " 
 
 '' Slightly so," said the gentleman, smiling. 
 
 '-Well, n.ayhe you knew that there cove that went awav 
 — young Mr. R;iy.>" ^ 
 
 ,'•1 believe I had that honor," replied the young man 
 with the snule still on his handsome face. " 
 
 "Honor! humph I I reckon you're the only one ever 
 thought It an honor to know him," said the lad, grimly " He 
 a ways was a vagabones, and ended as all vagabonds must, 
 
 For one moment the young gentleman glanced at the 
 driver, evidently hesitating whether to pitch him then and 
 there out of the gig or not ; but seeing only a little boy 
 with an exceedingly muddy face, he thought better of it, and 
 
 " Well this is really pleasant to listen to 1 And how did 
 this vagabones, as you call him, end } " 
 
 " Why, he was sent away from home, when they couldn't 
 stand him any longer; and the last we heard of him was 
 that he was in State Prison for life." 
 
 ^ A low peal of laughter from the young lady followed this 
 m which, after a prolonged stare of astonishment, the gentle^ 
 man was obliged to join. ^ 
 
 ^^"Well, for cool innate impudence, and straightforward 
 uiuntness, I 11 back you against the world, my good youth " 
 said the young man, while the little driver sat looking as 
 sober as a judge. ^ 
 
 her .^^'""^ ^^^ ■^'''""^ ^""'^^ ""'^^ ^'''^^ ^^^^^' '^^^^ ^e^^^e of 
 " There wasn't never no young lady," said the lad ; " there 
 was a little gal with yaller hair, but she went ofif, too • and I 
 expect, ran away with some one-eyed fiddler or other They 
 was English, and no better couldn't have been expected," 
 said the boy, in strong accents of contempt. 
 
 Another low laugh from the young lady and a prolonged 
 whistle from the gentleman followed this. 
 
 " Well, I am sorry my friends have turned out so badly 
 Ho^y about the others, now ; Judge Lawless and his family, 
 for^ instance; Admiral Havenful, Mr. and Miss ToosvDe^s 
 uuu the rest ? " * . = > 
 
lily. Was 
 
 went away 
 
 3ung man, 
 
 one ever 
 Illy. "He 
 •nes must, 
 
 :d at the 
 then and 
 little boy 
 of it, and 
 
 1 how did 
 
 couldn't 
 him was 
 
 wed this, 
 ie gentle- 
 
 itforward 
 I youth," 
 oking as 
 
 icame of 
 
 ; " there 
 • ; and I 
 . They 
 pected," 
 
 oionged 
 
 badly. 
 
 1 family, 
 •svoeffs. 
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 257 
 
 " They're all hanging together ! Mr. Toosypegs is gou.> 
 to ge married and take in sewing for a living t and Mis 
 I'nscilla goes round making vinegar." 
 
 " Making what ? " 
 
 "Vinegar," said the lad, gravely. " The grocers gets her 
 'medTately '^ ' °^ ''^^'''' ""''''" ^^"^^ *"'"' into vinegar 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said the gentleman, laughing ; - but 
 
 I ?;^''1--J"dge Lawless, Miss Lawless, what of ht-i^ ? " 
 Oh, she s all right. Don't expect she'll be Miss Lawless 
 though, much longer," said the boy. 
 
 "No } why .? how ? what do you mean .? " said the voun^ 
 gentleman, starting so suddenly that the boy looked ud 
 apparently quite terrified by this unexpected outburst 
 
 " See here, square, you'll skeer the hoss if you keep on 
 Ike this. If you're subjick to 'tacks of this kind you ought 
 
 A.u r *°'1 '"^ ^^^°'^ '^^ ^^^'■^^^' ^"d not 'larm the hoss " 
 said the boy, sharply. ' 
 
 " Tell me what you mean by that > Speak I " said the 
 young man, vehemently. 
 
 " By what .? skeering the hoss ? " said the lad 
 
 " Oh I'weU f h' ^':^''''" ^f' l^^ ™P^^"°"« r^i°^"der. 
 r,-.^ T -i)? ' ^^^\hearn tell she was goin' to be mar. 
 ried Likely zz not she is too ; got lots of beaux." 
 
 The young gentleman's face flushed for a moment, and 
 then grew set and stern. 
 
 " Did you hear who she was to be married to ? " said tha 
 young lady, leaning over. 
 
 " ^.°' J"m"^ ' "°^"dy "ever can tell what she'll do ; likelv 
 
 marry. She a ways was the contrariest young woman always 
 hat ever was," said the boy, casting a quick%right, search! 
 
 afe^I?T. ";, ""^'' '? ]°"- eyelashes, at th? handsome 
 face of the gentleman. And it was a handsome face the 
 
 I'Z hTk^^'^'k'' '''' '''''y ""^^ ^'■'^^^ hnd ever seen ; and 
 1 might hnve been its close proximity to its owner that sent 
 such quick thnlls to the heart of the quondam boy, an.d set 
 Th. H ! '°, """ecessarily fast under the jaunty black coat, 
 the th./l. ' • ?f ' "rP^^^'°" 5 '^'^ straight, classic features ; 
 thp h^^ai- ^''';7""b "^Hr; cne hign, princely brow; 
 the bold, flashing, falcon, black eyes; the thin, curving 
 
I Mi I 
 
 258 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ff 
 
 nostril, that showed his high blood ; the proud, haughty 
 mouth, shaded by a thick, black mustache : the tall, slight, 
 elegant form ; the 'ligh, kingly movements — these made up 
 the outward attractions of him by whose side Pet sat. Of 
 i (..r.rse, every reader above the artless age of five knows as 
 1' eil as I do who it is, so there is not the slightest necessity 
 xor announcing his name as Raymond Germaine. 
 
 There was a long silence after this. The youiig gentleman, 
 with a cold, almos't sarcastic look, watched the (IJects as 
 they passed, and tic. little boy drove on, whi^jtlih^ as if his 
 life dependerl on it. 
 
 Then the young lady leaned over arid began a conversa- 
 tion in a low voice v ith her companion, to whir b he replied 
 in the same tone. The lady had thrown back her veil, dis- 
 closing a face of such rare love]r.-;ei>s that it seemed a down- 
 right shame, not to say sin, to hide it behind that odious 
 brown covering. The driver turned round tc catch a better 
 view of her face, and the young lady met the lull splendor 
 of those dazzling dark orbs. The boy inst;uitly turned, and 
 bega? whistling louder than ever. 
 
 " '(.Vliat a hjuulsonie boy 1 " said the young girl, in a low 
 tone, yet load enough for the "boy" in question to hear. 
 "What .;-?ndid eyes! I thought there could be but one 
 such pair ■/ eyes in the world, and those — " 
 
 Her companion made a slight gesture that arrested the 
 name she would have uttered ; and glancing'. . t the boy, said, 
 rather coldly : 
 
 " Yes ; he is handsome, if his face was washed." 
 
 " Now, Ray," said the young lady, laughing, " that is 
 altogether too bad. Those radiant eyes are destined to 
 break many a heart yet." 
 
 " That they are ! " mentally exclaimed the lad. 
 
 " How fortunate for some of your admirers, Ermie, he is 
 not a few years older," said Ray (we may as well call him so 
 at once, and have done with it). " Those dark, bright, hand- 
 some eyes wouldn't have left you the faintest trace of a heart ; 
 and then what would poor Ranty have done ? " 
 
 " Pshaw, Ray," said Erminie, with a most becoming blush, 
 '* what nonsense ! Oh, look ! we are almost home. There 
 is Dismal Hollow, and there — there — I declare 1 that's Mr, 
 Toosypegs himself, riding out of the pine woods. Why, he 
 
I 
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 259 
 
 hasn't changed the least in the world since I saw him 
 
 The little driver gave his cap a pull further over his face 
 as Ray shouted to Mr. Toosypegs. 
 
 The next moment, that disconsolate wooer was by the side 
 of the g.g, shakmg hands with Ray and Erminie, and askin' 
 a dozen questions in a breath. ^^^kui^ 
 
 " How did you come ? When did you come > How did 
 
 Th-^d Mr: xtyp^rs!'^ '""""''' ''' '"^'°"'^''^'' »'' " ^ 
 
 "I called for Erminie at her convent. She is not goinff 
 back any more ; my visit will probably be a short one. I 
 hope Miss Toosypegs and all our friends are well > " 
 
 " Yes ; all well. I am very much obliged to vou Did 
 you pass through Judestown .? '' ^ ^ 
 
 " Of course. How else could we get here > " 
 
 " And didn't you meet Miss Pet ? " 
 
 " Miss Lawless ? No. Was she at Judestown ? " said 
 Ermmie eagerly ; while Ray found something so attractive 
 
 from ?t «or t"V"m f -VP--'^^^ --°- ^- -ye 
 mudil'' ""^ ^'^^^ '°^^^^- seen her so 
 
 '^u^V ^\% '""""^ ^"^ Judestown this morning, and has not 
 fT^^"^- ,,^y S«°dness I it is the greatest wo^nder you didn' 
 see her. Wha a pity she didn't know you've come I she 
 would be here m a flash." 
 
 "Is she to be married, do you know, Mr. Toosypees ?" 
 ^^u 1""?'?' '" ^ ^""^ ^°^^e ; " we heard she was " ' 
 
 The little boy glanced from the corner of his eye, and saw 
 a faint red on the dark cheek of the tall, handsome Spanish 
 looking gentleman beside him. ' "^P^"'^^ 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs turned pale ; even his very freckles turned 
 the color of buttermilk curds at the question 
 Oh ?'t """""^"^ ' (goodness gracious 1 I was just saying so. 
 ?n 'J K /'"^.r" '^^ ^°"^^ SO and heave herself away 
 UinnreP'' ° " ''' ^°"^ '' ""' "^^"^^d ^°' Miss 
 
 "I don't know; it was this little boy who told us," said 
 Erminie, glancing toward him. 
 
 lad, shortly '""" """^^ "ciiuer; only hearn teii,'' said the 
 
1?Wt " 
 
 If « 1.11 "f 
 
 
 |!iv 
 
 h . ■ 
 
 260 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 " Perhaps it is only a report. When will you come over to 
 the cottage, Mr. Toosypegs ? " 
 
 M This evening, Miss Minnie ; and I guess Aunt Prisciller 
 will come, too. She hasn't had any new caps or collars since 
 you went away, and has ever so many to get made." 
 
 "Very well; I will make them. Good-by, till then,** said 
 Erminie, smiling as they drove on. 
 
 A short time sufficed to bring them to the cottage. 
 
 The driver was invited in, but declined, and turned to go. 
 
 " If you see Miss Lawless on your way, will you tell her to 
 hurry here ? " said Erminie, as she alighted. 
 
 " Yes'm ; all right 1 " said the boy, closing his hand over 
 the coin Ray gave him ; and then touching his cap to Er- 
 minie, dashed away. 
 
 Lucy's delight exceeded all bounds at beholding " young 
 mars'r and missis" again ; and then Ray and Erminie, with 
 some difficulty, extricated themselves from her violent ca- 
 resses, went up- stairs, and entered the room of Ketura. 
 
 Many and sad were the changes years, and sorrow, and a 
 sort of chronic remorse for her past acts had wrought in her. 
 She sat in a large easy-chair, unable to move any portion of 
 her body but her head ; her hard, dark, grim face, bony, 
 sharp, and hollow, the protruding bones just covered by a 
 wrinkled covering of skin ; but the fierce, blazing, black eyes 
 were still unchanged. 
 
 Erminie, with the exclamation, " My dearest grandmoth- 
 er ! " went over, and throwing her snowy arms around her 
 neck, kissed the dark, withered cheek. 
 
 The old woman glanced at her, and saw the now beautiful, 
 feminine, but perfect image of Lo.d Ernest Villiers. The 
 same large, dark, beautiful violet-blue eyes ; the same fair, 
 silken, golden hair ; the same clear, transparent complexion ; 
 the same elegant, graceful movements ; the very expression 
 of the features complete. All her old hatred revived at the 
 sight of the lovely, high-born girl. With a quick, fierce 
 gesture, she pushed her aside, and strove to glance around 
 for the other she expected. 
 
 Ray stepped forward, and touched his Hps tenderly to her 
 forehead. 
 
 Holding his hand, she made him stand off where she could 
 the better see him, and then she scrutinized him from head 
 
 'I- 
 
fje over to 
 
 Prisciller 
 lars since 
 
 len," said 
 
 led to go. 
 tell her to 
 
 land over 
 ap to Er- 
 
 5 "young 
 inie, with 
 iolent ca- 
 ura. 
 
 iw, and a 
 ht in her. 
 ortion of 
 :e, bony, 
 red by a 
 lack eyes 
 
 andmoth- 
 Dund her 
 
 beautiful, 
 rs. The 
 ame fair, 
 iplexion ; 
 icpression 
 id at the 
 k, fierce 
 e around 
 
 ly to her 
 
 ihe could 
 )m head 
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 
 
 261 
 
 to foot. There, before her, he stood, the living embodiment of 
 what her son had been at his age, the very image of him she 
 had so passionately loved and so sadly lost. She could 
 scarcely persuade herself that Reginald had not risen from the 
 grave to meet her again. There was his very gipsy skin, 
 and eyes of darkened fire ; the curling locks of jet, and tall, 
 princely form ; but the expression of the mouth was different ; 
 his smile was Erminie's exactly ; and altogether there was a 
 strong, undefined, puzzling resemblance between them, that 
 for a moment darkly clouded the brow of the gipsy as she ob- 
 served it. The only being in the wide world she cared for 
 now, was Ray. Erminie might win all other hearts, but the 
 gipsy Ketura's was as flint to her. She had hated her from 
 the first ; she hated her still ; she would hate her until the 
 last, for the sake of the race from which she sprung. 
 
 Seeing she was not wanted, Erminie left the room to change 
 her traveling-dress; and Ray, seating himself beside his 
 grandmother, proceeded to tell her of his studies, his progress, 
 his hopes and ambition for the future. One name he did not 
 mention, that of Pet Lawless ; and yet it was thrilling and 
 vibrating at his heart-strings, as he listened impatiently for 
 the quick, sharp clatter of her horse's hoofs. 
 
 But hours passed, and she came not ; and Ray, angry at 
 himself for caring or feeling so deeply disappointed, de- 
 scended to join Erminie at the tea-table. 
 
 "What is Miss Lawless to me?" was the impetuous 
 thought that sent the fiery blood careering to his brow. " She 
 an heiress, and I a pauper— a beggar, with the tainted ripsy 
 blood in my veins. We were friends— something more, 
 perhaps— in the years that have passed ; but neither of us 
 understood our relative positions, then. No ; proud as she 
 is, she shall never know I have dared to lift my eyes to her 
 father's daughter. I was a fool to come on here at all. I 
 have heard she has driven dozens of better men crazy with 
 her witchery ; and can I rely on my own strength to shield 
 me from her arts.? Pshaw! she will not think it worth 
 while, though, to stoop to flirt with me. I, a menial, educated 
 by the bounty of her uncle. I am safe enough, and will 
 think of her no more." 
 
 A very laudable resolution it was, on the young •'^nntJo- 
 man's part, but one which he found some difficulty in carry- 
 
262 
 
 THE GYPSY QUERN'S VOW. 
 
 ing out, inasmuch as Mr. and Miss Toosypegs and Admiral 
 Havenful ramc in just then; and after the first greetings 
 were over, the whole conversation turned on Pet, lier tricks, 
 frohcs, fiirt.itions, capers, and caprices ; and R^y found liini- 
 self Hsteninij; with an intense eagerness that he was half 
 inclint-d to be enraged at himself for feeling. 
 
 Then, just a^ night was falling, the gallop of a horse was 
 heard loming though the forest road; and a few minutes 
 later. Pet alighted at the gate, darted up the walk, burst, like 
 the impetuous little whirlwind she was, into the: cottage, 
 .'.laS|K ' Erminie in her arms, and kissed her again and again, 
 until Kay — though nothing earthly would have made him own 
 it, even to himself— would have given untold wealth to have 
 stood in his sister's gaiters. Three somewhat furi> us embraces, 
 that quite took away Krminic's brejith, being over, Miss Law- 
 less found time to glance at the rest of the company, and see^ 
 ing Ray, as »-r -.^- ^, tall, and dark, and silent, by the window, 
 went o\ci c.nd held out li^_'r hnnd. 
 
 There was something more nearly approaching to timidity in 
 the action, and in_the quick glance and quicker dropping of 
 her resplendent eyes than anyone had ever seen Pet manifest 
 before. Ray bent over the little dark hand, whose touch sent 
 a quick, sudden thrill to his inmost heart, and thought that, 
 in all his life, he had never seen any one so beautiful as she 
 looked then, with her veiled eyes, and drooping ringlets, and 
 long, waving plumes that bent over her hat, touching her 
 glowing cheeks as if enamored of the darkly splendid face 
 beneath. 
 
 " Humph I A cold welcome, r-y little Moth - Gary's 
 Chicken," grunted the admiral. Why don't you Iciss him 
 like you did Snowdrop ? That's no way to welcome i friend 
 you haven't seen for three whole blessed vears." 
 
 Ray's eyes n..'t hers, and the color 11 ub led to her • '-y 
 brow; then, withdrawing her hand, she tossed her y 
 
 head till all her jetty cui s flashed, and throwing hersf into 
 a seat, began talking to Erminie, as if for a wager. 
 
 " Who told you wc were come ? " asked Erminie. 
 
 " No one said Pc l. '< It war. in inspiration from on high, 
 I expect, tl . told m I should find you h'^re." 
 
 ** It's a wonder you did not see us at j udestown ; we re- 
 inained there some time." 
 
GREEK MEETS GREE 
 
 263 
 
 \ Admiral 
 
 greetings 
 
 ler tricks, 
 
 3und liini- 
 
 was half 
 
 liorse was 
 ' minutes 
 jurst, like 
 cottage, 
 md again, 
 i him own 
 h to have 
 embraces, 
 liss Law- 
 , and see^ 
 t window, 
 
 imidity in 
 ^pping of 
 manifest 
 )uch sent 
 ight that, 
 ul as she 
 jlc's, and 
 :hing her 
 idid face 
 
 - Gary's 
 
 kiss him 
 
 I a friend 
 
 her V ry 
 er ' ,cy 
 rsf't into 
 
 1 on high, 
 1 ; we re- 
 
 " Well, how do you know I didn't see you ? " said Pet. 
 
 '• Why, you surely— oh, Pet I did you sec us and never 
 spoke ? " said Erminie, reproachfully. 
 
 " Well, I s otherwise engaged, you know — in fact, there 
 was a young ntleman, a very young gentleman, in the case 
 — and I coul< n't very well have presented myself any sooner 
 then I did," said Pet. 
 
 " One of her lovers," thought Ray, with a curling lip. 
 
 •' Guess what the little boy, who drove us over, told us 
 about you, Pet ? " said Erminie, laughing. 
 
 " What ? Nothing naughty, I hope." 
 
 "Well, I don't know; that's as it may be. Shall I tell 
 you what he said ? " 
 
 "Of course ; I like to hear what people sa) ab( ut me." 
 
 "Well, then, he said you were going to be married." 
 
 " Not possible I What an astounding re .elation ! Did you 
 think I was going to be an old maid? " 
 
 " Then it is true > Is it any harm to ask who the happy 
 man is, Pet ? " 
 
 " Well, I haven't quite decided yet. I have ';ome four or 
 five on trial, and I generally put them through a severe course 
 of martyrdom every day. The one who survives it (not more 
 than 0! .an possibly survive it) I shall probably make miser- 
 able for life, by bestowing upon him my hanC — and heart, 
 I was going to say, only, fortunately, they forgot to give me 
 one when I was made." 
 
 Erminie laughed, and then ihe conversation b-came general, 
 and two hours imperceptibly slipped away. Ray having 
 wrought himself up to the belief that Miss Lnwless wa: a 
 heartless flirt, worthy of no higher feeling than contempt, 
 he, in order to resist the dark witchery of her magnetic eyes, 
 wrapped himself up in his very coldest mantle of pride, and 
 addressed just as little of his conversation to her as he possibly 
 could, without being positively rude. Pet, as proud in htr 
 own way as himself, noticed this at once and her cheeks 
 flushed, and her eyes flushed, for a moment, with anger and 
 pride. Then these signs of emotion passed away, and she 
 grew her own cold, careless self again, talking away recklessly, 
 and laughing contemptuously at all sentiment, until Ray was 
 more then ever convinced that the world had spoiled her, 
 
 I 
 
264 
 
 THR GYPSY QUEKX'S \'0W. 
 
 
 f ■ 
 
 and that slie was as arrant a cocjuctte as ever made a fool of a 
 sensible man. 
 
 As ti.ey arose to go, Ray, feeling himself bound in courtesy, 
 olTerod to esc.rt her home, but Pet coldly and curtly declined- 
 and vaulting mto her saddle, dashed oif at a break-neck 
 pace, madly reckless even for her. 
 
 Looking back once, she caught a glimpse of a tall dark 
 form leaning against a tree with folded anus and watching 
 her still. Did she, with her light, sparkling, thoughtless nature^ 
 realize the struggle going on in that y<ning heart, between 
 love and pride, at that moment .? 
 
 Of omrse, the arrival of Ray and Erminie preclu.) d her 
 exploring expedition," as she called it, to the .seashore The 
 n'xt morning, and part of the afternoon,were spent with 
 L.minie ; but reaching home a little befote sunset, she suddenly 
 remembered it and started oJl on the spur of the moment, 
 like a female Don Quixote, in search of adventures. 
 
 " It's too late to begin a regular search." thought Pet as 
 she ran down the bank le.tding to the shore; " so I'll just 
 have a look round the place, and come b.ick some oJier day 
 and have a real good hunt for smugglers."' 
 
 Fifteen minutes brought her to the beach, and there she 
 paused to look round. The sands for a long instance out 
 were bare; but the tide was slowly tramping inward. On 
 the other hand, a huge wall of beetling rocks an.l projecting 
 crags met the eye; but these walls of rock were so smooth 
 and perpendicular, and so dizzily high, that the boldest sailor, 
 used to climbing all his life, would have hesitated before at- 
 tempting to clamber up. There were two paths leading to 
 u '^Tfr^^'^ '"'I'r Pet h^d just descended, and another 
 about half a mile distant. Between these the massive wall of 
 rock chose to inuulge itself in a sudden impetuous rush out 
 forming a huge projecting shoulder, up which a cat could 
 hardly have climbed safely. The tide always covered this u 
 considerable length of time before it could reach the sands 
 on either side, so that a person caught at high tide on either 
 side found himself cut off from crossing over to the opposite 
 side, unless he had a boat, or could swim 
 
 - Now," thought Pet, " I'll have to look sharp and not let 
 T ! ^•'Jf„^f ^^ '"e o" the other side of that bluff, there, or if 
 1 do, i d nave a walk 01 half a mile along the beach to the 
 
 i < 
 
 i 
 
 i\ ,* 
 
a fool of a 
 
 I courtesy, 
 declined; 
 reak-neck 
 
 tall dark 
 
 watching 
 
 ss nature. 
 
 between 
 
 ud d her 
 ore. Tlie 
 )ent with 
 suddenly 
 moment, 
 
 t Pet, as 
 ) I'll just 
 •Jier day 
 
 here she 
 I nee out 
 rd. On 
 ejecting 
 ' smooth 
 St sailor, 
 efore at- 
 ading to 
 another 
 i wall of 
 ush out, 
 t could 
 d this a 
 iC sand* 
 n either 
 )pposite 
 
 not let 
 re, or if 
 1 to the 
 
 GREEK MEETS GREEK. 
 
 265 
 
 other road, and after that over a mile to get home, which 
 is a promenade 1 am not anxious for. I might swim across, 
 It IS true, but swiuiming with all one's clothes on is not the 
 pleasantest or safest thing in the world ; and all the smug- 
 glers this sideof Pompey's Pillar are not worth the cold I 
 vyould catch. I'll just walk over and look at the rocks, and 
 then come back again." 
 
 Following up this intention. Pet walked slowly along, scan- 
 ning the high, dark, frowning rocks with a curious eye. As 
 far as she could see, there was not the slightest trace of an 
 openmg anywhere; yet the people said that some place 
 along the shore the smugglers had a rendezvous. Pet's keen 
 eye detected every fissure large enough to hold a mouse, 
 but no trace of secret cave or hidden cavern could be 
 seen. 
 
 "I might have known it was all nonsense," said Pet, 
 mentally. " The notion of finding an underground cave full 
 of robbers and jewels, and all that sort of thing, is too much 
 like a play, or a story in the ' Arabian Nights,' to be natural. 
 However, as the night's fine, I'll just go and look on the 
 other side of the bluff." 
 
 By this time she had reached the high projecting bowl- 
 ders, and she paused for a moment to glance at the sea. It 
 was still several yards distant, and Pet felt sure she could go 
 down some distance, and return again before the rising tide 
 would bar her passage. 
 
 The sun had set and there was no moon ; but the star- 
 light was bright and the sea-breeze cool and invigorating; so 
 Pet, in high spirits, walked on. Here and there she could 
 catch the white sail of some boat, skimming over the waves ; 
 but the long beach was lonely and deserted. 
 
 " Well, I guess I may as well turn back now," said Pet, 
 half aloud. " I am afraid my search after smugglers is 
 going to be unsuccessful, after all. I haven't caught any- 
 thing this evening, that's certain." 
 
 " But something has caught you, pretty one," said a 
 voice, close behind her, so close and sudden that Pet jumped 
 round with a startled ejaculation, and found herself face to 
 face with her sometime tutor anH rlisrarrlpH ini-p»- P/-.,,pi 
 Garnet, 
 
 His face was flushed, his eyes were gleaming with tri- 
 
ki^m 'fT 
 
 u ■ 
 
 fJK 
 
 266 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 umph, as he laid one powerful hand on her shoulder, and 
 held her fast. 
 
 In one instant the whole danger of her situation flashed 
 upon Pet. She had made this man her deadly enemy ; he 
 had probably long waited for an opportunity for revenge — 
 here she was completely in his power, alone on the long, 
 dreary, deserted beach, where her cries, if she uttered any, 
 could reach no ear. Above her towered the high, precipi- 
 tous, beetling rocks that she could not climb ; on the other 
 hand, spread out the boundless ocean, more merciful than 
 him into whose hands she had fallen. 
 
 Like lightning, it all passed through her mind, and for 
 one moment she quailed. But then her brave heart rose ; 
 this was no time for puerile fears, and she faced round, drew 
 up her slight form to its full height, and met her enemy with 
 a dauntless eye. 
 
 "Good-evening, Mr. Garnet," she said, composedly. 
 " This is an unexpected pleasure. We thought you had 
 gone away." 
 
 " Ah 1 did you ? Gone where, Miss Lawless ? " he said, 
 with a sinister smile. 
 
 " Well— any where— to the county jail, as likely as not ; 
 but people don't always get their deserts in this world." 
 
 " Very true, Miss Pet ; but you are, at present, in a fair 
 way to get yours." 
 
 " Humph 1 You'll allow me to differ from you, there. I 
 deserve something better than bad company, I hope ; so 
 permit me to wish you a very good-evening, Mr. Garnet." 
 
 " Not so fast. Miss Lawless ; you must do your humble 
 servant the iionor of conferring your company upon him for 
 a few days. As I have not seen you for so long a time, it 
 would be highly impolite, not to say cru j1, to hasten away so 
 soon now." 
 
 " Indeed 1 Mr. Garnet— indeed ! " said Pet, arching her 
 brows. " Your lesson in the library did not ca/e you, I see. 
 Are you aware there is such a thing as a jail i 1 Judcstown] 
 where refractory gentlemen who threaten peace ible citizens 
 are sometimes taken for a change of air ? Reaily, Mr. Gar- 
 net, I think a little ♦holesome correction would not hurt you 
 in the least." 
 
 " No, Miss Lawless, I have not forgotten that scene in the 
 
GREEK MEETS GREEK 
 
 267 
 
 ulder, and 
 
 )n flashed 
 jnemy; he 
 revenge — 
 the long, 
 tered any, 
 h, precipi- 
 the other 
 ciful than 
 
 d, and for 
 Jart rose ; 
 und, drew 
 lemy with 
 
 nposedly. 
 you had 
 
 he said, 
 
 ^ as not; 
 
 >rld." 
 
 , in a fair 
 
 there. I 
 hope; so 
 Garnet." 
 r humble 
 1 him for 
 a time, it 
 I away so 
 
 hing her 
 3u, I see. 
 idcstown, 
 ! citizens 
 Mr. Gar- 
 hurt you 
 
 ae in the 
 
 library of your father's house," said Garnet, tightening his 
 grasp, till Pet winced with pain. " My hand bears the mark 
 of your sharp teeth yet ; and as I am deeply your debtor for 
 that Judas-kiss, I shall pay you in your own coin before 
 either of us are many hours older. Did you think how near 
 retribution was when you gave me that sharp caress, Miss 
 Lawless ? " 
 
 " ' Sharp caress.' I suppose that means a bite. If you're 
 not anxious to test their sharpness again, Mr. Garnet, you'll 
 let go my arm. Faith 1 I wish I had made one of my ser- 
 vants horsewhip you from my gates, that day ; you would 
 not have dared to come sneaking round like a white-livered 
 coward, that you are — now ! " 
 
 " Petronilla Lawless, take care 1" he hissed, with a fierce 
 gleam of his eye. 
 
 " Take care of what? I'm not afraid of you, Rozzel Gar- 
 net," flashed Pet. " Anything in the shape of a man who 
 would go round playing the spy on an unprotected girl, has 
 sunk rather low to be feared by me. Take care, you 1 I vow 
 it there is such a thing as a cowhide in the countiy, I shall 
 have you thrashed for this, within an inch of your cowardly 
 life." 
 
 " And get your attached friend, the gipsy beggar, to ad- 
 minister it — eh. Miss Lawless ? " he said, with the smile of 
 a fiend. " What a pity he is not here, like a true knight- 
 errant, to rescue his lady-love I " 
 
 *' It's well for you he's not, or he wouldn't leave a whole 
 bone in your miserable skin. Let me go, I tell yoi' 1 Your 
 presence is pollution," said Pet, struggling to get free. 
 
 He held her with a grasp of iron, and watched her inef- 
 fectual efforts with a grim smile. 
 
 " I told you when we would meet again you would plead 
 to m.e," he said, with an evil gleam of his snake-Uke eyes. 
 " That time has come." 
 
 "Has it, indeed?" said Pet. "Well, if you have heard 
 or are likely to hear me pleading to anybody under heaven, I 
 must say you have a wonderful pair of ears. I have read of 
 a gentleman called Fine-ear, who could hear the grains grow- 
 in"' ; but. u"Qn my word, he couldn't hold a candle to vou ! " 
 
 " The time will come, girl, when you will grovel and plead 
 at my very feet, only to be spurned 1 " 
 
tiJIMf"""?r 
 
 "lOi.r 
 
 •-»• LurM 
 
 268 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 ll 
 
 1i^ 
 
 _ " Now, Mr. Garnet, look here," said Pet ; « you're plaffiar- 
 izing a story out of * The Arabian Nights' Entertainments.' 
 You needn t think to palm it off on me as original, for I've 
 read it, as well as you, and know all about the glass mer- 
 chant, who fancied he would marry the vizier's daughter 
 and have her kneeling at his feet, just as I am to do at your 
 royal highness's, you know ; and then he would very ungal- 
 lant y give her a kick, and in so doing smashed his basket 
 of glass all to pieces. You needn't think to take me in you 
 see ; for my education has not been neglected more than 
 your own." 
 
 /'Cease this fooling," said Garnet, angrily, "and come 
 with me. Resistance is useless. You are completely in my 
 power, and may as well come quietly." 
 
 "I won't then I Not a step will I budge, if I die for it! " 
 said Pet, planting her feet fairly in the yielding sand. " I am 
 not in the habit of walking out with gentlemen at this hour 
 of the evening, I would have you to know. 
 
 ' Come one, come all, this rock shall fly 
 From its firm base as soon as I.' " 
 
 And Pet, with an undaunted look, that would have made 
 her fortune as a virtuous heroine in difficulties on the sta^e 
 looked unflinchingly in his face, though her stout heart was 
 throbbing as she each moment more and more clearlv saw 
 her danger. -^ 
 
 ''Then I shall make you, by— 1 " And he swore a fearful 
 oath, while a terrible frown settled on his face. " Since you 
 will not walk, I shall bind you hand and foot and have you 
 carried. Scream as loud as you like," he added, grimly • 
 " there is no one far or near to hear you." 
 
 Holding her still with one hand, he began fumbling in his 
 pockets, probably in search of something to bind her hands 
 and feet. Pet cast a quick, sweeping glance around. Along 
 the beach not a living soul was to be seen, and even the 
 boats were now out of sight. They were close to the bowld :r, 
 around which the waves were now seething and dashing ; and 
 the tide was rapidly advancing to where they stood. Pet 
 had her back to the bowlder, while he stood facing it, thus 
 wedging her into a narrow prison, with the high, steep rocks 
 
 ¥ 
 
 rwSiiHiA'mmsi^mm 
 
GREEK MEETS GREEK. 
 
 269 
 
 on one side, and the dashing sea on the other, and prevent- 
 ing all hope of escaping by running along the beach. 
 
 His eye followed hers, and he said, with a triunriphant 
 chuckle : 
 
 " Caged, my bird of paradise 1 Snared, my mountain 
 eaglet I Trapped, my forest fairy I Won, my dauntless lady- 
 love 1 Ha ! ha 1 hal Your ever-triumphant star has set, at 
 last, my beautiful, black-eyed bride." 
 
 Standing between her and all hope of escape, he ventured 
 to lelax his grasp for a moment, to aid in the search for 
 something to bind her with. In one second, like a bolt from 
 a bird, she darted forward, and with one wild, flying leap, 
 impossible to anything but desperation, she sprung sheer 
 into the foaming waters and vanished I 
 
 Vanished but for an instant. Pet could swim like a fish, 
 or a cork, or a mermaid, or anything else you please, while 
 Mr. Rozzel Garnet had as intense an aversion to cold water 
 as sufferer from hydrophobia. As quickly as she had dis- 
 appeared did her black curls glitter above the white foam 
 again, as she dauntlessly struck out for the shore. 
 
 She had not far to swim, and she buffeted the waves like 
 a sea-goddess ; so, while Mr. Rozzel Garnet stood stunned, 
 speechless, paralyzed, she had gained the shore, fled as fast 
 as her dripping clothes would permit her along the beach, 
 rushed up the path, then back again on the rocks up above, 
 until she stood directly over the spot where the foiled villain 
 still remained, as if rooted to the ground, unable to compre- 
 hend which end he was standing on, to use a strong figure 
 of speech. 
 
 " Hallo, Mr. Garnet 1 how do you find yourself ? " shouted 
 Pet, from above. " Oh my 1 how beautifully you did it I 
 My stars ! you ought to have a leather medal presented to 
 you for catching girls — you do it so cleverly." 
 
 He turned and looked up ; and there, in the dusk, bright 
 starlight, he saw Pet all dripping like a Naiad, and her 
 black eyes almost out-flashing the stars themselves. 
 
 " Curses light on her! " he hissed between his teeth. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr Gan.et ! Curses, like chickens, come 
 home to roost, you know. Ah, you did it — didn't you.'"' 
 said Pet, provokingiy. " Don't you wish you had me, 
 though ? It's slippery work holding eels, and dangerous 
 
:irT 
 
 "^»»_»*k_^^ 
 
 270 
 
 
 THK GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 to play with exploding bombshells, and stinging occupation 
 pulling nettles; but the coat-sleeves that try to hold me wm 
 find a harder and more dangerous job than any of them 
 
 remeniber, when you next try to captivate me, that earth, air, 
 hre, and water were never made to hold me." 
 
 " Ah I you may triumph now— it is your turn," he said 
 ooking up, hvid with rage; -but mine will come yet 1 my 
 time will come I " ^ ^ 
 
 " Well, it's consoling to hear. I hope you'll have a good 
 dTrt'ed off! '' '°"''-" "^"^ ^^'^ " '"""'^"S laugh. Pet 
 
 at hind '^'^ ^'^^^' ""^ '^^"^ ^""^^"^ ^^"^ ""^^'^^y ^^^^ *™^ ^^s 
 
 l< 
 
 If-Tl 
 
 U ■ t 
 
 I -r 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 AN UNLOOKED-FOR LOVER. 
 
 " And yet this tough, impracticable heart 
 Is governed by a dainty-fingered girl."~RowB. 
 
 '' ^,^ere is a pleasure in being mad, 
 Which none but madmen know, "— Dryden. 
 
 c. Jy^^^. ^AWLESS was pacing up and down the floor of his 
 study with rapid, excited strides, his brows knit, his face 
 
 attftut''j'H\'"''^^'"^'^''^^^*^^^^ -^'^- -i-lelook! 
 minf WK ^.^^""g^'/Pe^king Of deepest, intensest excite- 
 ment When in profound or troubled thought, he had a 
 habit (many have) of talking to himself unconfciiusly ; and 
 now he muttered, between his teeth : J' ' " 
 
 "I am going mad-I am mad-bewitched-bewildered 1 
 10 think that I, at my years, should fall in love like a boy 
 o eighteen I who fancied I had outlived all such rubbish. 
 But oh that girl I that glorious girl I that angel of beauty I 
 that transcendently radiant creature I that lovely, bewilder- 
 ing enchanting, intoxicating Erminier Good heavens! how 
 Uie very thought of her sets my head whirling ! that electric 
 Erminie 1 with her anap I-cmile o^^r} ,v..„j:„4^„j (. _ . ,,., 
 could help loving her? Not I, certainly, and yet it is only 
 
AN UNLOOKED-FOR IvOVER. 
 
 271 
 
 I 
 1 
 
 one short week since her return home. Oh, that I could 
 win her to love me 1 Oh, to possess that love-angel ! Oh, 
 Erminie ! Erminie I " And breathing out his very soul in the 
 syllables of her name, he sunk into a chair, and leaned his 
 throbbing head on his hand. 
 
 Judge Lawless had all his life computed himself as a 
 grave, self-possessed, dignified gentleman ; excessively proud, 
 excessively unbending, and so calm and unimpassioned that 
 it seemed a matter of doubt whether he was made of com- 
 mon flesh and blood or cast-iron. But now, at the mature 
 age of five-and-forty, all his pride and dignity blew away, 
 like a whiff of down on a blast, at the first glimpse of Er- 
 minie Germaine's fair, sunshiny, blooming young face ; and 
 here he was, now, making a dov jright fool of himself — as 
 many another old gentlemen has done, is doing, and will 
 continue to do, while the world goes round. Forgetting 
 that he was nearly treble her age, forgetting his high position 
 in the world and her lowly one, forgetting he was far more 
 likely to be some day her father-in-law than her husband 
 forgetting everything, in a word, but that her beauty had 
 turned his brain, Judge Lawless sat down to reflect on the 
 best course to pursue in the present somewhat unsatisfactory 
 state of affairs. 
 
 Judge Lawless was, as I told you, a grave, calm-pulsed 
 gentleman, who considered himself as good, not to say con- 
 siderably better, than any other man in the world, and held 
 in the profoundest contempt the little corner of the world in 
 which he lived, and its quiet, hum-drum inhabitants. There- 
 fore, he heard Pet boisterously relating the arrival of Mr. 
 and Miss Germaine with the greatest indifference, and with- 
 out the remotest ide;- of ever giving either of them another 
 thought beyond a cool caution to Pet not to associate too 
 freely with people of " that set " ; but when, the next morn- 
 ing, riding past the Old Barrens Cottage on his way to Judes- 
 town, a vision m<: his eyes of such dazzling beauty that in- 
 voluntarily he stood stock-still to gaze, Judge Lawless found 
 that the only one in the world worth thinking of was one of 
 " that set." There stood Erminie at the gate, in her trim, 
 spotless muslin morning-dress, with her snowy linen collar 
 
 ful form they draped. The morning sunshine flashed in her 
 
 :s^ 
 
1^' 
 
 II i'-' 
 
 272 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 rhi"i"^V^!,T'",^' l!''''^' '""^^ ^''''' S^^^^ the roses on her 
 
 tfu' rV "^.^ ^''J^'f' ^'^^' '" '^"^ ^^'S^' «oft, violet eyes, 
 and lay hke a friend's kiss on the full and rounded hps. 
 
 Judge Lawless was spellbound, enchanted, bewildered, be- 
 deviled, to use his own phrase. In all his life he had never 
 seen so dazzling a beauty-in all his life he had never ex- 
 pected to see anyone half so lovely again ; and there he stood 
 gazmg upon her like a man in a dream, quite unconscious 
 hat the young lady, whoever she was, might think this pro- 
 
 did not think It very strange at all. She recognized him, of 
 course; and thinking he was merely trying to identify her ^he 
 
 smile'' ?h"h'' ^'1' ""' ^^"^ °"' '' ^- -ith a blLh and J 
 sm le, and, being always a little awed and afraid of his 
 stately grandeur held out her hand to him with a g rlish 
 timidity quite charming. g'^ii^n 
 
 - I suppose you have forgotten me, sir," she said, lifting 
 GermaTn e/ ' "'"''' '''' '" ""'' ''''■ " ' ^^ ^rminif 
 
 " Little Erminie > Why, how pret— a— I mean, how well 
 you are lookingl '' he said, taking the hand she offered, Ind 
 ^ wi?f ^r""^ ^""T", ''""^ '^^" ^^^ strictly necessa^ 
 
 uZ^u^^u^ '^'' '^^"^' ^^y d°"'t y°" come over ?o 
 Heath Hill some time, Miss Germaine > '' 
 
 ^M^'hl^^""^ promised Miss Lawless to go and spend the day 
 with her soon," said Erminie. embarrassed by his too-ardeu 
 gaze, and striving to withdraw her hand. <' I hope she is 
 
 '' Who ? Eh ? Oh, yes I she's well. Come over to-morrow 
 Miss Germaine. I shall be very glad to see you." ' 
 
 FrmJn!!f^^°"' ''' ' ^ '^^" ^^ "^^^^ happy to do SO," replied 
 Ermin.e, growing more and more embarrassed by his open 
 admiring gazes, and again trying to withdraw her hand. ' 
 
 flake fl.^ ^ f ' "^"''^^ ""consciously, held the little snow- 
 flake fast and seemed inclined to commit petty larceny bv 
 
 bfusSlce^^'jH"; -^^'^.^-g-^ed and gazed fn the sw'ee , 
 blushing face with its waving hair and drooping eyes, and 
 
 iwllT"^^ '"' '""'^ desperately in love eve^ry L^ent 
 last cnnfJTu'^T '"' -^"^^^ Lawless.^" said Erminie, at 
 last, confused by her situation, fearing to offend him, y^t 
 wisnmg ro get away. ' ^" 
 
 l> 
 
AN UNLOOKED-FOR LOVER. 
 
 273 
 
 ** Come in ? Oh, yes— to be sure 1 " exclaimed the judge, 
 with alacrity. " I was just thinking — a — of going in to see 
 your grandmother. I hope she is quite well." 
 
 And the judge, who had never entered the cottage before, 
 nor dreamed in the most remote way of ever doing so, ac- 
 tually got off 'his horse, tied him to a stake, and followed the 
 surprised Erminie into the house. And then, forgetting 
 Ketura, and his business in Judestown, and all other sublun- 
 ary things, in the presence of this enchanting maiden, there 
 he remained for three mortal hours, until the unlooked-for 
 entrance of Ray, who had been over the moor gunning, and 
 now returned with a well-filled game-bag, looking happy, 
 handsome, and with a powerful appetite. As his eye fell 
 upon their strange guest, he started, colored slightly and 
 then bowed with cold hauteur. Judge Lawless returned it 
 with one no less stiff ; for though in love with the sister, it 
 by no means followed he was very passionately enamored 
 of the brother. And then discovering, to his horror, that 
 the whole morning was gone, he rode off, followed by the 
 haunting vision of a sweet young face, with waving, floating 
 hair, and dark, lustrous, violet eyes. 
 
 And from that hour may be dated the " decline and fall " 
 of Judge Lawless. 
 
 His business was given up for visits to the cottage ; his 
 family concerns were neglected for day-dreams that, however 
 excusable in youths with faintly-sprouting mustaches, were 
 quite absurd in a dark, dignified, " potent, grave, and rever- 
 fend seigneur " like Judge Adolphus Lawless. But when 
 love comes in at the door, sense flies out at the window, to 
 change the adage a little, and especially where gentlemen 
 ■>n the disagreeable side of forty are concerned. So Judge 
 7 ;i ivless was deaf, blind and dumb to that awful bugbear, 
 " They say," and might have been seen at the cottage morn- 
 ing, noon, and ni<^ht, to the utter amazement and complete 
 astonishment of ail who knew him, and to none more so than 
 to his blue-ey -a nflamn'ation of the heart herself. Erminie 
 was at aioss — v noletely at a loss, and so was Ray. Nei- 
 ther of them drtu ied — no one dreamed — that the pompous, 
 haughty Prince Grandison of a Judge Lawless could have 
 
 nuch less with the little, obscure 
 
 luiicii III luvc Ul ail. 
 
 euiiA^iC - 
 
 girl, Erminie Germaine — tainted, as she was, by that great 
 
.V 
 
 it 
 
 it 
 
 f.!: 
 
 274 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 est of all crimes, poverty. Obscure, I said ; let me retract 
 hat word Erm.nie Germaine-beautiful Erminie-was 
 known and celebrated far beyond Old Barrens Cottage for 
 nllTTl; T"^ g°°dness, and gentleness, and all the other 
 qual ties that make some women a little lower than the 
 angels. But no one thought that on a heart of flint like his 
 -or rather, no heart at all— the Venus de Medicis herself 
 should she step out alive from her pedestal, could make the 
 
 every b,t as good-lookmg as that scantily-draped ladv of 
 
 Hen for T^'^ ''"''u ^'^""^^ '^'^ ^'^^ g^°^'" to be anothe 
 He en for whom another Troy might have been lost, no on. 
 set h,s v.s:ts to the cottage down to her, but rather ti eccen- 
 ncity, to some scheme, to some inexplicable notion, to any- 
 thmg at all but to the real cause. ^ 
 
 And so Judge Lawless was in love, and unsuspected 
 
 ;^."nd t'hinkin"' T' !r ''^ ''^''''y' ^^^'^ ^'^ headTn hfs 
 hand thinkmg and pondenng, and revolving, and wondering 
 
 as"tnn 'h-''"V'"'i''^°^ "^""S-^ "^^"^^ ^« ^ Crisis, Tnd 
 astonishmg his friends, his intention was to raise Miss 
 Germame to the dignity of his wife. Judge Lawless was 
 
 ZT^r'^l': '"' '°" '° propose Jthat^as the r)Tn" 
 horn of the dilemma. Judge Lawless was not accustomed 
 o proposing; he had not attempted it for the last iiveTnd- 
 twenty years, and then the lady had saved him the trouble. 
 Mrs. Lawless had been a wild young heiress, who fel 
 violently in love with the " sweet ''curling ' hair and 
 "divine" whiskers of the handsome young lawyer and 
 not being troubled with that disagreeable dlease rnddent 
 to most very young ladies, yclept bashfulness, had, Hke a 
 gm of honor come to the point at once, and, in a very com- 
 
 and fortune. The ambitious young lawyer, nothing loth 
 took her at her word, and, one fine moonlight night, a fourt .' 
 story window was opened, a rope-ladder put in requisUion • 
 hen . carnage ; then a parson ; then a ring, and •' Adolphus' 
 Lawless, barrister at law," as his shingle then announced him 
 was wooed and won. ' 
 
 whl^J! ^u'" rf .''"i!^ ^""^h^' ^^'""S- He was in love now. 
 which he hadn't been the first time : and Inv. n^.w .C 
 
 boldest warrior that ever clove helmets and heads "in "battle 
 
AN UNLOOKED-FOR LOVER. 
 
 me retract 
 linie — was 
 -ottage for 
 
 the other 
 
 than the 
 nt like his 
 is herself, 
 
 make the 
 minie was 
 d lady of 
 2 another 
 St, no one 
 
 to eccen- 
 n, to any- 
 
 uspected. 
 id in his 
 Dndering, 
 isis, and 
 ise Miss 
 less was 
 le trying 
 :ustomed 
 five-and- 
 trouble. 
 ivho fell 
 air and 
 'er, and 
 incident 
 I, like a 
 ;ry corn- 
 ier hand 
 ng loth, 
 1 fourth- 
 jisition ; 
 dolphus 
 :ed him, 
 
 ve now. 
 
 -*-' — • •■.2«C 
 
 1 battle 
 
 275 
 
 as timid as a — I was going to say girl ; but I won't, for in such 
 a case, they are not timid at all — but as a newly-fledged 
 gosling. Not that he feared a refusal. Judge Lawless drew 
 himself up until his pantaloon-straps cracked, and looked 
 indignantly in the glass at himself for entertaining such an 
 idea an instant. But he didn't know the formula — that was 
 it. Things had changed so since he was a garcon, and the 
 manner of popping the question might have changed with 
 the rest. It would never do to make himself ridiculous ; 
 thougi; vS the thought crossed his mind, he drew himself up 
 again to the full extent of his six feet, odd inches, and felt 
 indignant at the notion of his being ridiculous under any 
 circumstances whatever. 
 
 " Have her I must, come what will 1" he said, getting up 
 again, and resuming his 2:40 pace up and down the floor. 
 " I am mad about that girl, I believe. The world may laugh 
 and sneer at the idea of my marrying a — well, a pauper, in 
 point of fact, when I could win, if I chose, the highest in 
 the land. Well, let them. If Judge Lawless cannot do as 
 he pleases, I should like to know who can. I have wealth 
 enough to do us both ; the old admiral will leave his estate 
 and bank-stock to Ranty and Pet, and, h'm-m-m, ah 1 — Yes, 
 have her I must — that's settled. And this very afternoon 
 shall I ride over, and let her know the honor in store for 
 her I " 
 
 And that very afternoon, true to his promise, Judge 
 Lawless, arrayed in a somber, dignified suit of black, with 
 his hair and whiskers oiled and scented to that extent that 
 his fast mare. Wildfire, lifted up her head and looked at him 
 in grave astonishment, and inwardly resolved to keep a wary 
 eye on her master for the future, lest he should take to 
 dandyism in his old age, made his way to Old Barrens 
 Cottage. 
 
 Arriving at the cottage, he fastened his mare, and rapped 
 at the cottage-door with his riding-whip, in a grand and 
 important sort of way befitting the occasion. Erminie her- 
 self opened it ; and, at sight of her beautiful, rounded form, 
 the taper waist, the swelling bust, the white, rounded throat, 
 on which the graceful little head was poised with the 
 queenly air of a royal princess ; the waving, sunshiny hair, 
 the smiling lips, the soft tender, violet eyes, Judge Lawless 
 
ff 
 
 t 
 
 1!. 
 
 I 
 
 376 
 
 TixE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW 
 
 was twice, and thrice, as deeply, and irretrievably d des- 
 perately m love as ever. 
 
 He came in. Erminie was alone. How he thanked the 
 gods for that! took a seat, stood his cane in the corner, 'aid 
 his hat on the table, drew out a t,nowy cambric handkerchief 
 redolent of musk, eau de cologne, ottar of roses, and bergamot' 
 trom one of those intensely mysterious pockets gentlemen ' 
 for some inscrutable reason, wear in their coat-tails, blew his 
 nose, replaced his handkerchief, laia a Imnd on each knee 
 ooked at Erminie, and prepared her for what was coming 
 by a loud " ahem I " ^ 
 
 Erminie, whose rosy fingers were flying, as if by stress, on 
 some article of dress, did not look up- so all these significant 
 preparations, proper to be done, and which are always done 
 I believe, whenever elderly men go to propose, were quite 
 thrown away upon her. »- f > 4" "-c 
 
 "Ahem I" repeated the judge, with s. -ne severity, and 
 yet looking with longing eyes at the graceful form and sweet 
 drooping face before him, " Miss Erminie 1" 
 She looked up inquiringly, with a smile. 
 <' Ahem r The stately judge was rather embarrassed. 
 
 Perhaps, Miss Germai-.e, you are not in uti.r ignorance 
 ot— ahem— of the object of my visits here. I have revol- d 
 the matter over in ail ics bearings, and have come to the 
 conclusion that— ahem I-that I am at perfect liberty to please 
 mysel in this matter. The world may wonder— no doubt it 
 will; but I trust I have wisdom enough to direct m own 
 actions ; and though it may stare, it cannot but admir« the 
 person I — ahem 1— I have ohosen 1 "••#" 
 
 The judge made a dead halt, drew out his handkerchief 
 a;ivv'n, until the air would have remainded you of "Ceylon's 
 STyM,y breezes," and shifted his left leg over his right, and 
 C'lcn his right one over his left. Erminie, not understanding 
 one word of this valedictory, had dropped her work, and sat 
 looking at him, with wide-open eyes. 
 
 •' In short, therefore. Miss Germaine, we will, if you please 
 consider the matter settled ; and you will greatly oblige me 
 by naming the earliest possible day for the ceremony " 
 
 " The ceremony ! What ceremony, sir ? " said the puzzled 
 . ' — "■•••& p'--vii^i tiian cvci ill iicr perplexity. 
 
 •' Why, our marriage, to be surel" 
 
 I 
 
 
 \.!k 
 
'aid 
 
 I 
 
 AN UNl^OOKED-FOR LOVER. 
 
 a77 
 
 "O ir n. rriage?" 
 
 " Certainly, my love. The earlier the day, the sooner my 
 happiness will be complete I" 
 
 And the judge raised her h.i 1 to his lips, with the stately 
 formality of five-and-twenty yea 'before, fearing to venture 
 .ny further; for there was a 'o the sweet, wot dering 
 
 eyes th. nade him rather uncu 
 
 " Judge Lii vless, excuse me. I do not know what y>. u 
 jnean. I '"ear I have misunderstooc' you," sair Erminie, 
 more perplexed than she ever was before in the \Miole 
 course of her life. 
 
 ' Misunderstood nie ? Impossible, Miss Germaine I I 
 have used the plainest possible langu._,c, I think, in asking 
 you to be my wife 1 ' 
 
 "Your wife?" 
 
 " Yes, my wife 1 Why this surprise, dear girl ? Why, 
 Erminie I Good heaven- ^rmiaiel is it possible you really 
 have not understood me i time ? Why, dearest, fairest 
 
 girl, I love you — I wish ) be my wife 1 Do you under- 
 
 stand now ? " 
 
 He would have passed his arm around her waist ; but, 
 crimson with burning blushes, she sprung to her feet, a vivid 
 light in her beautiful eyes, and raised her hand to wave him 
 off. 
 
 " You are mocking me, Judge Lawless I If you have had 
 your amusement, we will drop the subject." 
 
 " Mocking }'ou, my beautiful Erminie I I swear to you I 
 love you with all my heart aiul soul ! Only make me happy, 
 by saying you will be my wife 1 " 
 
 The conviction that he was really serious, now for the 
 first time dawned upon Erminies mind. The rosy tide 
 flooded neck and brow again, and she dropped her flushed 
 face in her hands, as she remembered he was Ranty's 
 father. 
 
 " I am not surprised that you should wonder at my 
 choice," said the judge, complacently. "Of course the 
 world expects I should marry a woman of rank ; but I like 
 you, and am determined to please myself, let them wonder 
 as thev will ! " 
 
 Erminie'shanf' dropped from her face, crimson now, but 
 not with embarassment ; her eyes flashed with the fiery 
 
 I 
 
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 1 65 J East Main Street 
 
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 (716) 482 - 0300 - Ptione 
 
 (716) ?88 - 5989 - Fax 
 
iSESRorirTcii" 
 
 278 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 spirit of the old De Courcys, as she drew herself up to her full 
 night, and calmly said : 
 
 "I will spare you the humiliation, and your friends the 
 trouble of wondering at your choice. For the honor you have 
 done me, I thank you, even while I must decline it " 
 
 " Decline it ! " The judge sat aghast. 
 
 Erminie compressed her lips, and silently bowed. She 
 stood there like a young queen, her proud little head erect, 
 her fair cheeks scarlet, her eyes darkening and darkening, 
 until they seemed almost black. 
 
 " Decline it ! " The judge, in his amazement, was a sight 
 to see. * 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Miss Germaine, I— I'm thunderstruck! I—I'm con- 
 founded 1 I— I am utterly confounded 1 Miss Germaine, you 
 do not mean it ; you cannot mean it 1 it's impossible you 
 can mean it I Refuse me 1 Oh, it is utterly impossible you 
 can mean it ! " j r j ^ 
 
 "On the contrary, wonderful as it seems, I must dis- 
 tinctly and unequivocally decline the honor." And Erminie's 
 look of calm determination showed her resolution was not to 
 be shaken. Judge Lawless rose to his feet and confronted 
 her. Indignation, humiliation, anger, wounded pride, mor- 
 tification jealousy, and a dozen other disagreeable feelings, 
 flushing his face until its reflection fairly imparted a rosy 
 hue to his snow-white shirt bosom. -' ^ Jf 
 
 " Miss Germaine, am I to understand that you refuse to 
 to marry me ? " ^ ^ciu^e 10 
 
 " Decidedly, sir." 
 
 ' May I ask your reason for this refusal. Miss Germaine > " 
 1 recognize no right by which you are privileged to ques- 
 tion me, Judge Lawless, but because of the respect I own 
 one so much my senior, I will say that, first, I do not love 
 you; second, even if I did, I would not marry one who looks 
 upon me as so far beneath him ; and third—" She paused 
 
 t'^haf befo?e^^^ ^""^^ "^°" ^'^'' """"^ ''°^°'^'^ """'^ ''''''^^y 
 
 "Well Miss Germaine, and t/i/rd," he said, sarcastically. 
 
 1 will answer no more such questions, Judge Lawless " 
 
 she sain, with rirnnrl inHitymtinn • " !T • •• ■' 
 
 ... T.Li- ^ -iSviignaiion , and I n;peat it once at^aip • 
 
 I cannot be your wife." ^ 
 
AN UNLOOKED-FOR LOVER. 
 
 279 
 
 to her full 
 
 ends the 
 you have 
 
 id. She 
 id erectj 
 irkening, 
 
 s a sight 
 
 'm con- 
 line, you 
 ible you 
 ible you 
 
 ust dis- 
 rminie's 
 s not to 
 1 fronted 
 le, mor- 
 feelings, 
 1 a rosy 
 
 efuse to 
 
 laine ? " 
 
 o ques- 
 
 I own 
 
 ot love 
 .0 looks 
 paused, 
 vividly 
 
 >tically. 
 wless," 
 agaip • 
 
 " That remains to be seen. Miss Germaine. There are 
 more ways than one of winning a lady ; I have tried one, 
 and failed ; now I shall have recourse to another." 
 
 " Judge Lawle ,s, is that meant as a threat ? " said Erminie, 
 her proud De Courcy blood flushing in her cheeks and light- 
 ing up her eyes again. 
 
 He smiled slightly, but made no other reply, as he took 
 his hai and cane and prepared to go. 
 
 " Once again. Miss Erminie, before I go, I ask you if 
 your mind is fully made up to reject me ? " 
 
 The darkening, streaming light of the violet eyes fixed full 
 upon him was his only answer, as she stood drawn up to her 
 full hight. 
 
 " Good morning, then," he said, with a courteous smile. 
 '* I do not despair, even yet. Time works wonders, you 
 know, Miss Germaine. Give my best regards to your excel- 
 lent grandmother." And with a stately bow, a la Grandison, 
 the judge left the cottage, and the light of the dark, in- 
 dignant, beautiful eyes. 
 
 But once on his horse, and galloping like mad over the 
 heath, a change wonderful to see came over the bland face 
 of the judge. Dark and darker it grew, thicker and thicker 
 was his scowl, angrier and angrier became his eyes, until 
 his face looked like a human thunder-cloud. 
 
 " The proud, conceited, impertinent minx 1 " he burst out, 
 " to refuse me — me — me, Judge Lawless. Why, i must 
 be mad 1 By heaven I she shall be mine yet, if onij ) teach 
 her a lesson. Black Bart is in Judestown. I saw him yes- 
 terday ; and he, with his fellow-smugglers, or pirates, or free- 
 booters, or whatever they are, shall aid me in this. It does 
 not sound well, to be sure, for a judge of the land to tacitly 
 favor smuggling, but then those contraband wines and 
 brandies would tempt St. Peter himself. They shall do a 
 different kind of smuggUng for me this time. In the Hidden 
 Cave Madame Erminie will be safe enough, and that queen 
 of the smugglers, or whatever she is, can take care of her. 
 Refuse me 1 by the hosts above, that girl shall repent her 
 temerity ! This very day I will see Black Bart, and then — " 
 
 He compressed his lips tight, and his face assumed a look 
 of dark, grim determination, that showed his resolution was 
 unalterable. 
 
1*' » IUI'1 — 
 
 
 280 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 And meanwhile Erminie, with her fair face bowed in hei 
 hands, was weeping the bitterest tears she had ever shed 
 in her life. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 MR. TOOSYPEGS IN DISTRESS AGAIN. 
 
 The time I've lost in wooing, 
 
 In watching and pursuing 
 The light that lies in woman's eyes, 
 
 Has been my heart's undoing. 
 Though wisdom oft has sought me, 
 I scorned the lox'e she brought me ; 
 My only books were woman's looks. 
 And folly's all they've taught me. 
 
 — Moore. 
 
 Admiral. Harry riAVENFUL sat alone in the parlor of the 
 White Squall, the heels of his boots elevated on the knobs 
 of the andirons, his chair tipped back to that sublime angle 
 which women admire, but men only understand. A long 
 meerschaum, with an amber mouth-piece, protruded from his 
 lips, while whiffs of blue, vapory smoke cur.ed from the 
 corner of his mouth ; his hands stuck in his trousers pockets, 
 and his eyes fixed admiringly on the pink and yellow ship-of- 
 war on the mantel. Admiral Harry Havenful was enjoying 
 life hugely on a small scale, when a dispirited knock, such 
 as moneyless debtors give, was neard at the outer door. 
 
 " Tumble up, below there ! tumble up, ahoy-y-y I " roared 
 the admiral, taking the pipe from his mouth to summon the 
 servants. 
 
 In compliance with this zephyr-like uest, one of the 
 darkeys " tumbled up," accordingly, an: opening the door, 
 Mr. O. C Toosypegs stalked in, and with the head of his 
 cane in his mouth, entered the parlor and presented himself 
 to the jolly little admiral. 
 
 " D'ye do, Orlando ? give us your flipper," said the admiral, 
 protruding one huge hand without rising, or even turning his 
 head, merely casting a glance over his shoulder, and smoking 
 on as placidly as before. 
 
MR. TOOSYPEGS IN DIST.lESS AGAIN. 281 
 
 
 «* I'm very well — that is, I ain't very well at all, Admiral 
 Havenful, I'm very much obliged to you," said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, grasping the huge hand and wriggling it faintly a second 
 or two. " My health ain't so good as it might be, and I don't 
 expect it ever will be again, but I'm resigned to that and 
 everything else that may happen. It's nasty to be always 
 complaining, you know. Admiral Havenful." 
 
 " That's so," growled the admiral, in a tone so deeply 
 bass that it was quite startling. 
 
 " Therefore, Admiral Havenful, though I ain't so well as I 
 might be, I'm very well indeed, I'm very much obliged to 
 you. It must be nice to die and have no more bother 
 — don't you think so. Admiral Havenful ? " said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, with a groan so deep that the admiral took his pipe 
 from his mouth and stared at him. 
 
 " What now ? " grunted the admiral, who foresaw some- 
 thing was coming ; " heave to I " 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, would you be so good as not to say 
 that ? You mean well, I know, but you can't imagine the 
 unpleasant sensations it causes — ugh ! " said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 with a wry fact and a shudder. " You never were sea-sick, 
 were you. Admiral Havenful ? If you were, you don't re- 
 quire to be told the pang that heari) ig that inflicts upon me. 
 Therefore, please don't say it again, for it gives me the most 
 peculiar sensations that even was." 
 
 The admiral grunted, and began smoking away like an ill- 
 repaired chimney. Mr. 'i'oosypegs sat uneasily on the edge 
 of his chair, and continued to make a light and rather un- 
 satisfactory repast off the head of his cane. Thus a mourn- 
 ful silence was continued for some fifteen or twenty minutes, 
 and then f liC admiral took his pipe from his mouth, wiped it on 
 the cuff of his sleeve, and without looking at Mr. Toosypegs, 
 drew a long, placid breath, and held it out toward him with 
 a laconic : 
 
 " Smoke ? " 
 
 *' Thankee, Admiral Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 mournfully, " I never do." 
 
 ♦' More fool j^ou, then," said the admiral, grufify, putting it 
 in his own mouth again. 
 
 rvuiiiiiu' i^uvciiiui, buiu ivii. i uusypegs, in a large lunc 
 of voice, " I'm aware that I ain't so wise as some of my 
 
 I 
 
mjm^ 
 
 IkJiMl i'i» 9 I ui I 
 
 ••« • • •» 
 
 282 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 if- 
 it ' 
 
 L I- 
 
 /!'■ 
 
 friends could wish me ; but, at the same time let me assure you 
 that I don't consider it a proof of wisdom to smoke at all 
 Smokers mean real well, I know, but it's unpleasant toothers* 
 besides setting the in'ards in a dingy state, blacking the 
 teeth, adulterating the breath, and often producing spontane- 
 ous combustion. Which means, Admiral Havenful,"said 
 Mr. Toosypegs, elevating his cane to make the explanation 
 'getting worked up to a high degree of steam, and going off 
 quite unexpected and promiscuous, some day, with a banc- 
 and leaving nothing behind to tell the melancholy tale butl^ 
 pinch of ashes, and that — " 
 
 " Oh, bother 1 " cut in the admiral, impatiently, " Belay 
 your jawing tackle, young man, and let somebody else have 
 sea-room. What port do you hail from last ? " 
 
 "Admiral Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs, in no way of- 
 fended at this cavalier mode of treating his digression on the 
 evils of smoking, " if you mean by that where I was all morn- 
 ing, I've just come from Dismal Hollow. Aunt Prisciller 
 wasn't in— well, she wasn't in very good spirits— and so I 
 got out of the back door and come away. I was going to 
 Old Barrens Cottage, only I saw Judge Lawless' horse before 
 the door, and so I came here." 
 
 " Always welcome, Orlando, boy— always welcome," said 
 the admiral, briskly. " But hold on a minute i What the 
 dickens brings that stiff bowspirit of a brother-in-law of 
 mine so often to that cottage ? Eh, Orlando ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure, Admiral Havenful," said Mr 
 Toosypegs. " It's real singular, too, because he never used 
 to go there at all, and now his horse is at the door every 
 day." 
 
 " So's yours, for that matter. Hey, Orlando ? " 
 Mr. Toosypegs blushed to the very roots of his hair, and 
 shifted his feet uneasily over the floor, as though it burnt 
 them. 
 
 "Orlando," said the admiral— holding his pipe between 
 his finger and thumb, and regarding significantly these 
 emotions—" Orlando, I see breakers ahead I " 
 
 "Admiral Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs, in a tone of 
 mingled uneasiness and anguish, " I dare say you do ; but. 
 my gracious! don't keep looking at a fellow so! I 
 couldn't help it, you know ; and I know it's all my own 
 
MR TOOSYPEGS IN DISTRESS AGAIN. 283 
 
 of 
 
 fault to be miserable for life. I don't blame anybody at all, 
 and I rather like being miserable for life than otherwise. I 
 know you mean well, but I'd rather you wouldn't keep look- 
 ing at me so. I'm very much obliged to you." 
 
 " Orlando," solemnly began the admiral, without removing 
 •his eyes from the other's face, " you're steering out of your 
 course altogether. Come to anchor ! Now, then, what's to 
 pay ? " 
 
 The unexpected energy with which this last question was 
 asked had such an effect on the nerves of Mr. O. C. Toosy- 
 pegs, that he gave a sudden jump, suggestive of sitting down 
 on an upturned pin cushion, and grasped ' s stick in wild 
 alarm. 
 
 " Now, Orlando," repeated the admiral, with a wave of his 
 pipe — " now, Orlando, the question is, what's to pay ? " 
 
 " Admiral Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs in terror, 
 " there ain't nothing to pay ; I don't owe a cent in the world, 
 s'elp me Bob 1 I don't owe a single blamed brass farthing 
 to a child unborn 1 " 
 
 " Pah I " said the admiral, with a look of intense disgust at 
 his obtuseness, " I didn't mean that. I want to know 
 what's up, where the wind sits ; what you keep cruising off 
 and on that cottage for all the time. Now, then, hold 
 hard I " 
 
 " It's my intention to hold hard. Admiral Havenful," 
 replied Mr. Toosypegs, blushing like a beet-root. " But I'd 
 rather not mention what takes me there, if it's all the same 
 to you. It's a secret, locked deep in the unfathomable re- 
 cesses of this here bosom ; and I never mean to reveal it to 
 anybody till I'm a melancholy corpse in the skies. You'll 
 excuse me, Admiral Havenful ; a fellow can't always restrain 
 his tears, you know ; and I feel so miserable, thank you, of 
 late, that it's a consolation even to cry," said Mr. Toosy- 
 pegs, wiping his eye. 
 
 " Now, Orlando, you just hold on a minute — will you? " 
 said the admiral, facing briskly round, with much the same 
 air as an unfeeling dentist who determines to have your tooth 
 out whether you will or not ; " now, look here and let's 
 do things ship-shape. Has our Firefly got anything to do 
 with it ? " 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, I'm happy to say she has not. I felt 
 
284 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 pretty badly about Miss Pet, there, one time ; but T have got 
 nicely over that. It wasn't near so dangerous as 1 expected 
 it would be ; but this— this is. The way I feel sometimes, 
 Admiral Havenful, is awful to contemplate. I can't sleep 
 nor eat, and I don't take no pleasure even n my new panta- 
 loons with the blue stripe down the side, jl often lie awake 
 nights crying now, and I wish I had never been born 1 I do 
 wish it I " said Mr. Toosypegs, with a sudden howl. " Where's 
 the good of it, if a fellow's going to be made miserable this 
 way, I want to know ? " 
 
 _ " Orlando Toosypegs," <Bid the admiral, rising, sternly, 
 "just look here, will you? I'm not going to stand this sort 
 of talk, you know — this fiying in the face of Providence 
 — here the admiral raised his glazed hat, and looked rever- 
 ently at a blue-bottle fly on the ceiling — " because it's not 
 proper nor ship-shape, nohow you can fix it. Now, Orlando, 
 I've advised you time and again— I've been a father to you 
 before you was the size of a tar-bucket— I've turned you up 
 and spanked you when you wasn't big as a well-grown 
 marlin _ "ke, and I've often given you a good kicking when 
 you were older, for your shortcomings; I've talked to you, 
 Orlando Toosypegs, for your good till all was blue— I've 
 made myself as hoarse as a boatswain splashing showers of 
 good advice on you ; and now what's my return .? You say 
 you don't see no use in being born. Orlrndo, it grieves me 
 —it makes me feel as bad as if I had drank a pail of bilge- 
 water ; but there is no help for it ! I give you up to ruin— 
 I've lost all faith in human morals — I wash my hands of 
 you altogether I " 
 
 Here the admira! looked around for some water to literal- 
 ly fulfill liis threat ; but, seeing none, he wiped his hands 
 on the table-cloth, and resumed his seat with the air a Spar- 
 tan father may be supposed to have worn when condemning 
 his own son to death. 
 
 So deeply affected was Mr. Toosypegs by this pathetic ex- 
 hortation that he sobbed away like a hyena in his flarino- 
 bandanna, with a great noise and much wiping of eyes and 
 nose, which showed he was not lost to all sense of human 
 feeling. 
 
 "^Yes, Orlando,'" said the admiral, mournfully, " I repeat 
 it, I'm. determined to wash my hands of you. The basin ain't 
 
MR: TOOSYPEGS IN DISTRESS AGAIN. 285 
 
 have got 
 expected 
 ^metimes, 
 in't sleep 
 ew panta- 
 lie awake 
 •n ! I do 
 ' Where's 
 rable this 
 
 , sternly, 
 this sort 
 •evidence 
 :ed rever- 
 e it's not 
 Orlando, 
 er to you 
 d you up 
 ell-grown 
 ing when 
 i to you, 
 ue — I've 
 lowers of 
 You say 
 ieves me 
 of bilge- 
 o ruin — 
 lands of 
 
 literal- 
 is hands 
 ■ a Spar- 
 demning 
 
 hetic ex- 
 flaring 
 iyes and 
 f human 
 
 1 repeat 
 sin ain't 
 
 ■ 
 
 here ; but it's no matter. Your father was a nice man, and 
 I'm sorry his son ever come to this." 
 
 " Admiral Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs, hiccoughing 
 violently, " I'm ashamed of myself. I oughtn't to have said 
 it and 1 won't do so no more at any price. I know — I know 
 I oughtn't mind being wretched, but somehow I do, and I 
 can't help it. It you'll only forgive me, and not wash your 
 hands of me, I'll tell you what's the matter and promise to 
 try and do better for the time to come." 
 
 •' Well, heave ahead I " said the somewhat mollified mari 
 
 ner. 
 
 " Admiral Havenful 1 " exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, spring- 
 ing to his feet with such startling energy that the old sailor 
 jumped up, too, and brandished his pipe, expecting a violent 
 personal assault and battery — " will you be good enough not 
 to say that ? Oh, my gracious 1 " exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, 
 in a wildly-distracted tone, "if it ain't too darned bad. 
 
 Ugh 1 " 
 
 And with a violent shudder and a sea-green visage, the 
 unhappy young man sat down, with one hand on his mouth 
 and the other on his dinner. 
 
 With a violent snort of unspeakable contempt, the admiral 
 flung himself back in his chair, and turned up his Roman 
 nose to the highest possible angle of scorn. 
 
 "Excuse me, Admiral Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 at length, in a fainting voice, "I ft el better, now. It was 
 so — so sudden, and took me so unexpected, that — that it 
 rather startled me ; but I'm quite well now. I'm very much 
 obliged to you. Ugh 1 The very mention of— you know what 
 follows sea-sickness — turns my very skin to goose-flesh. We 
 won't speak of it any more, if it's all the same to you, Ad- 
 miral Havenful. I promised to tell you the cause of my 
 misery— didn't I? Yes? Well, it's— it's Miss Minnie." 
 
 " Little Snowflake 1 hea — I mean go ahead." 
 
 " I went and fell in love with her, Admiral Havenful," 
 said Mr. Toosypegs, looking around blush" ;, 
 
 " Stand from under I " growled the bewidered admiral. 
 
 " Admiral Havenful, it's my intention to stand from under 
 as much as possible. I'm very much obliged to you," said 
 Mr. Toosypegs, politely. " I dare say you're surprised to 
 hear it, but I really couldn't help it. I assure you she was 
 

 
 286 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 so-so stunning, so as— I don't know what to call it • but 
 It s enough to turn a fellow crazy, by granny I I know she 
 don care a pin for me. I know she don't, and nobody can 
 tell the s ate it throws me into. I thought I felt dreadfully 
 about Miss Pet's black eyes, and I did%oo ; but it ain'c no 
 circumstance to the state Miss Minnie's blue ones pitches 
 me into. Admiral Havenful, I don't expect you've ever 
 been in love, but it's the most awful state to be in ever was 
 It makes you feel worse than sitting down into a wasp's 
 nes _,t really does. In fact, I don't know anything, except, 
 perhaps, seasickness, that's equal to it in unpleasantness^' 
 
 bo completely unexpected was this declaration, that the 
 admiral so far forgot himself as to look appealingly at his 
 pipe and growl out, " Heave ahead 1" 
 
 The effect of this command on Mr. Toosypegs, in his 
 present disordered state of mind was perfectly electrifying 
 Springing to his feet, he seized his hat and cane, clapped 
 his bandanna to his mouth, and, with a look of intense an- 
 gmsh no pen can describe, made a rush from the door, fled 
 from the house, and vanished for the remainder of that day 
 from mortal eye. ^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 * 
 
 MISS LAWLESS IN DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 " The hypocrite had left his mask, and stood 
 In naked uehness. He was a man 
 Who stole the livery of the court of Heaven 
 To serve the devil in. " -Pollock. 
 
 Three hours after his interview and rejection by Erminie 
 Judge Lawless alighted at the inn-door in Judestown The 
 obsequious landlord came out all bows and smiles to 
 greet the grand seignor of this rustic town, and ushered him 
 into the parlor with as much, and considerably more, respect 
 than he would have shown to the king of Englana, had that 
 gentleman condescended to visit the '' Judestown House " 
 as the flaming gilt sign-board announced it to be. 
 
 " Glass wine, sir ? brandy water, sir ? s'gar, sir .? anything 
 you want, sir? " insinuated mine host, all in a breath 
 
11 it ; but 
 enow she 
 )body can 
 Ireadfully 
 t ain't no 
 s pitches 
 I've ever 
 3ver was. 
 a wasp's 
 ;, except, 
 mtness.'" 
 that the 
 ly at his 
 
 , in his 
 :trifying. 
 clapped 
 inse an- 
 oor, fled 
 that day 
 
 DCK. 
 
 Crminie, 
 I. The 
 liles to 
 red him 
 respect 
 lad that 
 iouse," 
 
 nything 
 
 MISS LAWLESS IN DIFFICULTIES. 287 
 
 «* No, my good man, I want nothing, said the judge, with 
 a pompous wave of his jeweled hand ; •' I have come on 
 important business this afternoon. Is there a somewhat 
 dissipated character, a sailor, called Black — Black — really 
 I—" 
 
 " Bart, sir ? Yes, sir. Here five minutes 'go sir," breath- 
 lessly cut in the landlord. 
 
 " Ah 1 " said the judge, slowly, passing his hand over his 
 mustache ; '* can you find him for me ? 1 wish to see him. 
 I have reason to believe he can give me some information 
 concerning these smugglers who of late have alarmed the 
 good people around here so much." 
 
 " Yes, sir, hunt him up five minutes sir." And off bustled 
 the host of the Judestown House in search of Black Bart. 
 
 Judge Lawless arose with knit brows and began pacing ex- 
 citedly up and down the room when alone. He knew this 
 Black Bart well, knew all about the smugglers, too, as his 
 well-stocked cellar could testify. Judge Lawless found them 
 very useful in various ways and having a remarkably elastic 
 conscience of his own was troubled with no scruples about 
 cheating the revenue, so long as bis wine-bin was well 
 supplied. But this was abduction — something more danger- 
 ous, something that required all his wounded self-love, and 
 disappointed passion, and intense mortification to give him 
 courage for. But his plans were formed. For money he 
 knew Black Bart and his comrades would do anything, and 
 money Judge Lawless had in plenty. 
 
 Half an hour passed. The judge began to cast many an 
 impatient glance toward the door, when a bold, vigorous 
 knock was heard. Knocks are very expressive to those who 
 understand them ; they speak as plainly as words ; and this 
 one was given with a loud, surly independence, that said, 
 just as plainly as lips could speak: " I am as good a man as 
 you are, Judge Lawless, and I don't care a curse for you or 
 all the revenue officers from here to Land's End." Juv'.ge 
 Lawless understood it, and throwing himself into a chair, he 
 called out, blandlv : 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 The door opened, and a short, thick-set, weather-beaten, 
 frrim-lnnkinp- old "^pa-Hnp- made, his annearanre, and p-ivintr 
 his head a slight jerk to one side, by way of acknowledging 
 
233 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 If ,'5 
 
 Mi 
 
 tli 
 
 Hit 
 
 the judge's presence, walked straight up to the firenhrf^ nn^ 
 dohberatdyspita discharge of tobaccl i e Hgh't „ ; h^ 
 eyes of an unoffending cat, by way of ccmn.enci,tg bu" ?,o I 
 n turmng h.s back to the n.antel, he put his hands beL V d 
 itions '' ""' ''^"^ •■"''^^>' *° commence ope. 
 
 " Well, square, what's in the wind now ? " demanded the 
 to IpX' ''' '"'^"''' """^' '''' ^"'^'^' ^'^ -^ serrndined 
 job f^r'you''''' "'' ^"''^''' '" ' ^^^' "''^■"^^°"=* tone. " I have a 
 the^oM Hn?> '-''" ^'"^ ' ^^'^^'^ •^' ^^^^ ? Anythin, in 
 
 yo:^;a!n'he^r:!^f"^"'^'''^^^"^- «- ^-^*^^^^ 
 
 '; Can't say for certain, boss. The schooner's off a-rf>- 
 painn and we're tryin' the land dodge till she's ready Vaifl 
 no telling though, yet, when that may be " ^ ^ 
 
 u rC'n-'"''-?'^? ""'^^r t,^^°"^P^"'^s yo" '"^ere likewise ? " 
 Cap n s wife ? Well, yes, square, I reckon she is 
 What do you want of her ? " ^' 
 
 carrv ^ff"' n ' '° take charge of a young girl that you must 
 carry ott. Do you understand ? " / tuoi 
 
 yo:'^^i;tr^':^^"'^'"' ^"^ ^^"-- ' come, square, 
 
 do'd'r;:,' Lt? -' '" '^^^^^'^ ^^^^ ' ^^^ ^- -^-^^ke to 
 
 I'm' Jhe^re I ''^'^' '' """''^ ""^"^ ' ^^'^ ^^^'^ '^^ "^^^ful, and 
 
 ^;' Money you shall have ; but do you think this woman 
 will undertake to look after the girP '' woman 
 
 caDV:f l^r' '^"''^' ' u°"'' '^y ' *^^' ^°'"^"-' Call her the 
 cap n s lady-sounds better. Oh, she's got nothing to do 
 with It ; she's got to mind the cap n. Who's the gaP '' 
 
 f h. vt ""u ''' '°"'^' "'^" ' ^° y°" know the cottage on 
 
 the Barrens, between Dismal Hollow and Heath HilP " 
 
 f.lt K ^^ ^°°k\,.Why' square, it's not that beauty they 
 name?'' " ^^^^-^^''^^-danged if I don't forget the 
 
 - Never mind the name— it's of no consequence. She's 
 the girK Do vou know her ? " vi«<i"vc. one s 
 
cplace, and 
 :ht into the 
 t( I)usinesh. 
 nds beliind 
 ence opei 
 
 ancled the 
 m inclined 
 
 " I have a 
 
 nythin^ in 
 
 lon^ di: 
 
 i off a-re- 
 ly again I 
 
 /ise ? " 
 she is. 
 
 ^ou must 
 
 I, square, 
 
 2rtake to 
 
 iful, and 
 
 woman 
 
 her the 
 g to do 
 ? " 
 
 ttage on 
 [?" 
 
 ty they 
 •get the 
 
 She's 
 
 MISS LAWLESS IN DIFFICULTIES. 289 
 
 " Hain't the Iionor ; but one of our crew, a sort of dry-water 
 sailor, knows her; I'll bring him along, and everything will 
 go o" like a new broom.*' 
 
 " You must be careful to not mention my name — not even 
 to her ; because it would be a dreadful thing for me if this 
 were found out." 
 
 " Don't be scary, square, I'll be as close as a clam at high 
 water. When do you want us to captivate the little dear ? " 
 
 " To-night — any time — the sooner the better 1 " 
 
 " Will you be on hand yourself, square ? " 
 
 *' No 1 To avoid the faintest shadow of suspicion — though 
 such is not likely to rest on me in any case — I will start for 
 Baltimore immediately, within the very hour, and there 
 remain till all the hubbub her disappearance causes has 
 passed away. You will keep her securely in your hidden 
 cave all the time ; and when the exciteiiient has died out I 
 will come and relieve you of your charge." 
 
 " You're a brick, square — you are, by Lord Harryl What 
 will be your next dodge, then ? " 
 
 " That's as may be ; most probably I shall take her with 
 me to England. That's to be thought of yet, however ; but 
 I'll find a way, never fear." 
 
 " Square, they ought to ' lect you to the Senate — diing 
 my buttons if they oughtn't I When I get unseaworthy I'm 
 going to set up for myself ; can lie and fight, and roar at 
 'tagonists like a brick ; and got all the other qualifications, 
 too numerous to mention." 
 
 And with this slander on senators in general, Black Bart 
 clapped half a plug of tobacco in the other cheek, and in- 
 dulged in a quiet chuckle. 
 
 " Well, that's all, I believe," said the judge, rising. " You 
 think you will know this girl when you see her ? " 
 
 " I won't — t'other one will — trust me, square ; I'll 
 and see him now, and him and me will take a stroll 
 that way." 
 
 " If she could be inveigled from the house alter night 
 it would be the best time and way," said the judge, 
 musingly. 
 
 Leave all them particulars to me, square : I'll fix thing?; 
 
 You know me. Now, Bart, remember, 
 
 off 
 round 
 
 SO 
 
 (( 
 
 " When I return. 
 
290 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 If 'V 
 
 )'■ ': 
 
 tonight if you can ; in three or four weeks at the furthest, I 
 will return." 
 
 The judge turned and left the room, mounted his horse 
 and rode off. Black Bart hitched up his pantaloons, and 
 then fell back in a chair, snapping his fingers, flourishing his 
 heels, and indulging in such tremendous roars of laughter 
 that the landlord rushed in, in deadly alarm, to see what 
 awful calamity had happened. 
 
 But still Black Bart gave vent to such appalling laughter- 
 claps, without speaking, throwing himself back as if his 
 spine was made of steel springs, and then jerking himself 
 straight again, kicking his heels, snapping his finger and 
 thumb, and indulging in such extraordinary antics of delight, 
 that Boniface, completely at a loss, stood staring at him in 
 silent wonder, thinking the judge's communication, whatever 
 it might have been, had completely turned his brain. 
 
 " There, Bart, be quiet now," said the host, soothingly. 
 " You're scaring the people in the shop out of their wits. 
 What's the matter with you, anyway ? " 
 
 " Nothing 1 " replied Black Bart, going off into another 
 roar, more deafening, if possible, than the first. 
 
 " Well, I must say ' nothing ' seems to be rather funny," 
 said the puzzled landlord. '* Was the judge pumping you 
 about the smugglers ? " 
 
 " Oh, Lord, don't I " shouted the sailor with such a 
 yell of laughter, and putting himself into sudi frightful 
 contortions of delight that the startled host stepped back 
 and grasped the handle of the door with an alarmed glance 
 toward his strange customer. 
 
 "I'm off now," said Bart at length, as soon as he had re- 
 covered from this last paroxysm ; and wiping the tears from 
 his eyes, he started at a Flora Temple pace down the street, 
 pausing, however, now and then, as his lively sense of the 
 ridiculous overcame him, to indulge in another terrifying peal 
 of laughter, till affrighted pedestrians fled from him in horror, 
 thinking a dangerous lunatic had somewhere broken loose. 
 
 He reached a low, smoky, obscure drinking den, near the 
 end of the town, at last, and passing through the bar-room 
 he entered another low, dirty, dingy apartment, where the 
 first individual on whom his eyes rested, was our some-time 
 friend, Mr. Rozzel Garnet. 
 
furthest, I 
 
 1 his horse 
 :aloons, and 
 urishing his 
 of laughter 
 see what 
 
 ig laughter- 
 ck as if his 
 ing himself 
 
 finger and 
 s of delight, 
 g at him in 
 n, whatever 
 rain, 
 soothingly. 
 
 their wits. 
 
 ito another 
 
 tier funny," 
 imping you 
 
 th such a 
 ■^ frightful 
 ;pped back 
 med glance 
 
 s he had re- 
 i tears from 
 n the street, 
 sense of the 
 rifying peal 
 n in horror, 
 oken loose, 
 en, near the 
 e bar-room 
 :, where the 
 r bome-time 
 
 MISS LAWLESS IN DIFFICULTIES. 291 
 
 " Well, Bart," asked that gentleman, eagerly, " what did 
 judge Lawless want of you in such haste ? " 
 
 " Oil I ha ! ha ! ha ! ha I ha ! ha ! " roared Black Bart, in a 
 perfect agony of enjoyment. " If it isn't about the best 
 fun I've ever heard tell on. Why, man alive, you'd never 
 guess if you were to try from this ro doomsday. Judge 
 Lawless, the saint, the angel, the parson, has fell in love 
 and wants the girl carried off I Oh ! ha I ha ! ha I ha 1 I'll 
 split my sides 1 " 
 
 Mr. Rozzel Garnet did not join in Black Bart's merriment. 
 He opened his eyes to their widest extent, and indulged in 
 a long, low whistle, expressive of any amount of astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " Who's the girl ? " he asked, at length. 
 
 " That wonderful beauty at Old Barrens Cottage— noth- 
 ing shorter. Everything arranged, and the square will come 
 down like a prince— or if he doesn't, we'll make him. I 
 don't know her; so you're to come with me, and to<^ether 
 we'll carry off the girl the first chance. The judge has 
 gone to Baltimore to keep out of harm's way, and won't be 
 back for three or four weeks. Ain't it beautiful ? The old 
 judge in love! Hal ha! ha! " 
 
 shed 'a project of revenge across the 
 None of the smugglers knew either 
 -why not carry off Pet instead of 
 the other, and thus gratify h" wn passions, disappoint the 
 judge, and have revenge. Ine blood flashed fiercely and 
 hotly to his face as he thought of it ; and he rose and walked 
 to the window to hide his emotion from the keen eyes of his 
 fdlow-smuggler— for Garnet had joined them in their roving 
 life after leaving the judge's. 
 
 " Well, old fellow, what do you say to it ? " asked Black 
 Bart. 
 
 " I'm your man 1 " exclaimed Garnet, turning from the 
 window, all his customary cool composure restored. " We 
 1 will start immediately, and keep watch until night ; it is 
 
 I more than probable we will see her before then, and, as the 
 
 I judge says, the sooner the better. Come along." 
 
 I Had Petronilla's lucky star set ? had her eood ane-el de- 
 
 I serted her ? had Satan come to the assistance' of his earthly 
 
 myrmidons ? had the Fates willed it, that her pony " Starlight " 
 
 Like lightning ther' 
 
 mind of Rozzel Garnei. 
 
 Erminie or Pet Lawless- 
 
Tf 
 
 ' t V It t 
 
 292 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I'- 
 
 n ' 
 
 i ■! 
 
 should on that eventful day cast a shoe, lame himself, and 
 so be unfit to ride ? 
 
 Pet rambled restlessly about the house, one minute terrify- 
 ing rooks, and bats, and swallows from their homes in the 
 eaves and chimneys, by banging away at some new polka 
 on the piano ; the next, seizing the bellows for a partner, 
 and going waltzing round the room ; the next, rushing like a 
 mad thing as she was, up stairs, and then sliding down the 
 banisters. 
 
 " For," said Pet, " exercise is good for the health ; and as 
 Aunt Deb won't let me ride the clothes-horse, I'm going to 
 try this." 
 
 And try it she did, till she tore the dress nearly off her 
 back ; and then, getting tired of this, she determined to go 
 over to the Old Barrens Cottage, and see Erminie. 
 
 The day was beautiful ; so Pet determined to walk. 
 Throwing a light muslin cape over her shoulders, and pull- 
 ing a broad straw flat down over her eyes, the dark-eyed 
 " heiress, beauty, and belle," set out, singing as she went. 
 
 Somehow, since the return of Ray, Pet had visited the 
 cottage much less frequently than usual and in all prob- 
 ability would not have gone now, only she knew he had 
 gone to Judestown that morning and was not expected back 
 until the next day. Pet saw that he shunned and avoided 
 her : and no matter how easy and natural he had been a 
 moment before, the instant she entered he wrapped himself 
 in his very coldest mantle of reserve, and looked more like a 
 banished prince than common Christian. Pet saw this ; and 
 her own heart, as proud as his in another way, swelled with 
 wounded feeling and indignation ; and she inwardly vowed 
 to let him see that she cared just as little for him as he could 
 possibly care fur her. Poor Pet ! this conviction and resolu- 
 tion cost her the first bitter tears she had ever shed in her 
 whole sunshiny life ; but as she felt them falling warm and 
 fast, she sprung quickly up, dashed them indignantly away, 
 as if ashamed to own even to her own heart how much she 
 cared for him. 
 
 " No ; he shall never know that I cared two pins about 
 him 1 " exclaimed Pet, with flashing eyes and flushing cheeks. 
 " He dislikes me ; I can see that plainly enough ; and if he 
 was a prince of the blood royal, I would not stoop to sue 
 
MISS LAWI^ESS IN DIFFICULTIES. 293 
 
 imself, and 
 
 lute terrify- 
 mes in the 
 new polka 
 r a partner, 
 shing like a 
 r down the 
 
 1th ; and as 
 'm going to 
 
 irly off her 
 nined to go 
 e. 
 
 d to walk. 
 :s, and puU- 
 i dark-eyed 
 ;he went. 
 I visited the 
 in all prob- 
 new he had 
 pected back 
 nd avoided 
 had been a 
 ped himself 
 more like a 
 iw this ; and 
 swelled with 
 irdly vowed 
 1 as he could 
 I and resolu- 
 shed in her 
 g warm and 
 lantly away, 
 w much she 
 
 pins about 
 hing cheeks. 
 , ; and if he 
 toop to sue 
 
 for his favor. I don't care for him ; I won't care for him. 
 I just hate him — a stiff, haughty, young Turk — there now 1 " 
 
 And then having relieved her mind by a " real good cry," 
 Pet got up and whistled to her dogs, and set off for a scam- 
 per round the yard, to the great detriment of her gaiters, and 
 ^he alarming increase of her appetite. Pet wasn't sentimen- 
 tal ; so she neither took to sighing nor star-gazing, nor writ- 
 ing poetry ; but pursued the even, or rather uneven, tenor of 
 her way, and inwardly vowed that, " if nobody cared for 
 her, she would care for nobody." 
 
 Little did Pet know the real cause of Ray's avoidance. 
 High-spirited and proud, almost morbid in his pride at times, 
 and loving this dazzling, sparkling vision of beauty and 
 brightness more and more every time he saw her, he felt it 
 his duty to shun her as much as possible. To know this 
 star-eyed, dazzling, dancing fay without loving her was a 
 simple impossibility ; and Ray Germaine, with his passion- 
 ate admiration of beauty, and fiery gipsy blood, loved her 
 with an intensity that only hot, passionate, Southern natures 
 like his can feel. And with this mad love was the certain 
 conviction that he might as well love a " bright, particular 
 star," and hope to win it, as the wealthy heiress of Judge 
 Lawless, who was soon destined to make her de/>uf in the 
 gilded salons of Washington city, where all the lions of the 
 capital would soon be in adoration at her feet. And he 
 — what was he ? The grandson of a gipsy woman, educated 
 by the bounty of a stranger. What was he that he should 
 dare to lift his eyes to this peerless beauty and belle ? 
 Proud, as we have said he was, to excess, he shunned and 
 avoided her for whom he would have given up the wide 
 world and all it contained, has he possessed it, lest in some 
 unguarded moment he should divulge the one secret of his 
 fierce and daily increasing love. 
 
 And in this unpleasant way matters stood on the day when 
 Pet set out from Heath Hill to Old Barrens Cottage. Pet 
 was a good walker ; but, owingto the intense heat, she was 
 completely tired out by the time she reached the cottage. 
 Erminie alone was there, ready to welcome her friend with 
 her own peculiar sunshiny smile. 
 
 It was very pleasant, that cool, breezy sitting-room, that 
 scorchingly hot day, with its plain straw matting, its cool; 
 
294 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 I 
 
 I V. 
 ft 
 
 green, Venetian blinds, its plump, tempting, cushioned rock- 
 ing-chairs, and fragrant bouquets of flowers in glasses of 
 pure, sparkling water. But the prettiest, pleasantest sight 
 of all was its lovely young mistress in her simple, beauti- 
 fully-fitting dress of blue gingham, with its snowy collar and 
 little black silk apron boasting the cunningest pockets in the 
 world ; her shiny hair floating twined in broad damp braids 
 round her superb little head ; and where the sunshine lin- 
 gered lovingly upon it, seeming like a shining glory over her 
 smooth white brow. Yes, it was very pleasant— the pretty 
 cottage-room ; the lovely cottage maiden ; and yet the dark, 
 bright, dazzling brunette in her glancing shot silk, with 
 her flashing jetty curls, her lustrous, splendid Syrian eyes, 
 of midnight blackness ; her whole vivacious, restless, glitter- 
 ing, entrancing face and form lost nothing by contrast with 
 any one in the world. 
 
 " Well, I declare, Ermie, I don't know any place in the 
 wide world half as cool and pleasant as this cottage of 
 yours. Now, at Heath Hill it's enough to roast an African. 
 Goodness I how hot I am I " said Pet, commencing to fan 
 herself vigorously. 
 
 " The sea-breeze makes this cool," said Erminie; " that is 
 the reason. I am so glad you came over this afternoon, for 
 Ray, you know, is not coining home to-night. It is really 
 too bad, I think, that he should leave us and go back ac^ain 
 to that tiresome New York so soon." ^ 
 
 " Ah 1 when is he going? " said Pet, still violently fanning 
 herself, though her bright bloom of color was far less vivid 
 then it had been a moment before. 
 
 '/ The day after to-morrow, he says ; and not to return for 
 perhaps a year. I will feel dreadfully lonesome, I know, 
 and grandmother will miss him so much. But young men 
 are so headstrong and self-willed that there is no doing any- 
 thing with them— don't you think so, Pet .? " said Erminie 
 smiling. ' 
 
 " Never tho ight on the subject as I know of; but I dare 
 say they are. They're not to be blamed for it, though ; it 
 runs m man's wretched nature. Ah ! I never was properly 
 thankful for not being a man till on.^ day I went and dressed 
 myself in a suit of their clothes. Such wretrhpHlv fpe'incr 
 things as they were, to be sure ! I've never been in thi 
 
oned rock- 
 glasses of 
 itest sight 
 le, beauti- 
 collar and 
 kets in the 
 np braids 
 shine lin- 
 y over her 
 :he pretty 
 the dark, 
 silk, with 
 rian eyes, 
 ss, glitter- 
 trast with 
 
 ce in the 
 
 ottage of 
 
 African. 
 
 ig to fan 
 
 ; " that is 
 
 noon, for 
 
 is really 
 
 Lck again 
 
 ^ fanning 
 ess vivid 
 
 ■eturn for 
 
 I know, 
 
 ung men 
 
 oing any- 
 
 Erminie, 
 
 ut I dare 
 ough ; it 
 properly 
 i dressed 
 Y feeling 
 n in the 
 
 MISS LAWLESS IN DIFFICULTIES. 295 
 
 stock, or the pillory, or stretched on a rack, or walking 
 through a treadmill, or any of those other disagreeable 
 things ; but even since then I've a pretty good notion of 
 what they must be like. It was a regular martyrdom while 
 I had them on, and how the mischief anybody ever can sur- 
 vive in them is more than I know. Think of descending to 
 posterity in a pair of pants I " 
 
 Erminie laughed, and Pet rattled on till tea was ready. 
 Then they drank Lucy's fragrant black tea, and ate her 
 delicate nice waffles, and praised her jam ; and then, when the 
 sun had long set, and the dark, cool, evening shadows began 
 to fall. Pet got up, put on her hat, kissed Erminie, and set 
 out on her return to Heath Hill. 
 
 " You ought to have told some of the servants to come 
 for you," said Erminie. " It is rather far for you to go 
 alone." 
 
 Oh, there is no danger," said Pet ; " on the forest road 
 
 there may be ; but here on the heath all is 
 Good night." And Pet started off at a brisk 
 
 and the shore 
 safe enough, 
 walk. 
 
 Two men, crouching behind a clump of stunted spruce 
 bushes, were watching her with lynx eyes, as her slight, grace- 
 ful form approached. It was not quite dark, but what the 
 Scotch call " the gloaming," and the bright draped figure 
 was plainly conspicuous on the brown, bare heath. 
 
 " There she comes at last," whispered the younger of the 
 two, in a quick fierce tone, breathing hotly and quickly while 
 he spoke; "I will spring out as she passes and throw this 
 shawl over her head, while you tie her hands and feet." 
 
 "All right," said the other, in the same low tone. 
 " Jupiter 1 how she goes it I Can't she walk Spanish, though ! 
 I tell you, Garnet, she's a regular stunner, and no mistake." 
 
 The other made no reply. His lurid, burning eyes were 
 fixed on the dark, brilliant face of Petronilla. 
 
 All unconscious she passed on. Scarcely had she done so 
 when, with the quick, noiseless spring of a panther. Garnet 
 darted from behind the bushes, and flung a large plaid over 
 the head of Pet, and grasped her firmly in his arms. With 
 equal agility the other followed ; and Pet was securely bound 
 hand and foot before she had sufficiently recovered from her 
 surprise to make the slightest struggle. 
 
' "i»*.tl 
 
 •I H.MI I 
 
 ( 
 
 t'. 
 
 296 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 *' Mine 1 Mine ! at last 1 " whispered a voice she knew too 
 well, as his arms enfolded her in a fierce embrace. " Beauti- 
 ful eaglet, caged at last! " 
 
 In vain she struggled — in vain she strove to cry out for 
 help. Feet and hands were securely bound ; the heavy shawl 
 was half smothering her, and her captor's arms held her 
 like a vise. 
 
 " Now for the cave 1 On 1 on I there's no time to lose 1" 
 cried Garnet, with fierce impatience, starting forward as 
 though he were carrying an infant over the heath. 
 
 f i". 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE outlaw's wife. 
 
 li 
 
 For some moments Pet continued to struggle violently, but 
 finding all her efforts vain — worse than vain — and being half- 
 suffocated for want of air, she fell back in her captor's arms, 
 and lay perfectly still and quiet. 
 
 In that dreadful moment, she lost not one particle of her 
 customary self-possession. She realized all her danger and 
 peril vividly. She knew she was completely in the power of 
 her worst enemy, and beyond all hope of extricating herself. 
 Her whole appalling danger burst upon her at once ; and 
 though for one instant her very heart seemed to cease its 
 beating, she neither fainted nor gave herself up to useless 
 tears or hysterics, according to the usual custom of young 
 ladies, when in real or imaginary danger. Not she, indeed I 
 Pet's thoughts as she lay quietly in her captive's arms, ran 
 somewhat after the following fashion : 
 
 " Well, Pet, child, you've went and put your foot in it beau- 
 tifully, haven't you ? Ain't you ashamed of yourself, to let Roz- 
 zel Garnet catch you, and lug you along like this ? I wonder 
 where they're going to bring me to, anyway, and what they're 
 going to do with me next ? Oh I won't there be weeping and 
 gnashing of teeth, and pulling off of wigs at home when they 
 find I've gone, vanished, evaporated, made myself ' thin air,' 
 and no clue to my whereabouts to be found ? Phew 1 this 
 Tillainous shawl is fairly smothering me. I wish I could slip 
 
THE OUTLAW'S WIFE. 
 
 297 
 
 e knew too 
 " Beauti- 
 
 cry out for 
 leavy shawl 
 5 held her 
 
 e to lose!" 
 orvvard as 
 
 3lently, but 
 
 being half- 
 
 )tor's arms, 
 
 :icle of her 
 danger and 
 le power of 
 ng herself, 
 once ; and 
 1 cease its 
 I to useless 
 n of young 
 tie, indeed I 
 arms, ran 
 
 t in it beau- 
 , to let Roz- 
 I wonder 
 rhat they're 
 seeping and 
 J when they 
 f * thin air,' 
 Phew 1 this 
 I could slip 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
 it of! for about five minutes ; and the way I'd yell would slight- 
 ly astonish Mr. Garnet. I suppose papa will have flaming 
 posters stuck up all around Judestown, in every color of the 
 rainbow. I fancy I'm reading one of them : ' Lost, strayed, 
 stolen, or run off with some deluded young man, a small, 
 brown, yellow and black girl, not quite right in her head, 
 wearing a red-and-green silk dress, with black eyes, a pair of 
 gaiter boots, and black hair. Any person or persons giving 
 information concerning the above will be liberally rewarded 
 with from five to ten cents, and possess the everlasting grati- 
 tude of the community generally.' That's itl I wonder 
 where they're taking me to ? We're down or. the beach now, 
 for I can hear the waves on the shore. Good gracious 1 If 
 they should carry me off to sea, the matter would be j^f^rious. 
 'Pon my word and honor 1 if I ever get out of this scrape, if 
 I don't make Mr. Rozzel Game, mind what he's up to, then 
 my name's not Pet— Ur-r-r 1 I'm strangling, I declare. 
 Suffocation must be a pleasant death, if I may judge by this 
 specimen 1 " 
 
 While Pet was thus cogitating, Rozzel Garnet and his 
 companion were rapidly striding over the wet, slippery beach. 
 A being more perfectly guileless than Pet, in some ways, 
 never existed, and this may in some measure account for 
 the light manner in which she treated her captivity. Saucy, 
 spirited, daring, full of exuberant life, fun, freedom and frolic, 
 she was ; but, withal, in some matters her simplicity was per- 
 fectly wonderful. For instance, she knew now she was a 
 prisoner ; she fancied she might be taken off somewhere, or 
 held captive for a while. But she had the most perfect f a th 
 in her own wit, cunning and courage to ultimately escape. 
 She feared no worse fate ; she knew of none ; she never 
 even dreamed of any. She knew Rozzel Garnet pretended 
 to love her — might urge her again to marry him ; but that 
 gave her not the slightest uneasiness in the world. In fact. 
 Pet's love of adventure made her almost like this scrape she 
 had got into. It would be something to talk about for the 
 rest of her life; it made her quite a heroine, this being 
 carried off ; it was really like something she had so ofteu 
 read of in novels, or like a tragedy in a play. 
 
 With these sentiments, Pet lay quite still, listening intently, 
 and wondering what was to come next. It seemed to her 
 
-wmr 
 
 ' • • ■■ I 
 
 
 298 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 they must have walked nearly half an hour, when they came 
 to a dead halt, and she heard Rozzel Garnet say • 
 
 " Now, Bart, give the signal quick 1 " 
 
 A low, shrill, peculiar whistle followed ; and then Pet 
 whose ears would have run themselves into points to hear 
 
 pushed aside ; a heavy sound, as if of rocks removing; and 
 then Garnet, gathenng her tighter in his hated en.brace 
 stooped down, and passed through something which she 
 knew must be a narrow aperture, and thence, cnrefully guid- 
 nig hnnself w.th one hnnd while he held her with the:^oK 
 he descended a short flight of steps. Then he paused and 
 o the great relief of our half-stifled heroine, removed the 
 thick shawl m which he had enveloped her. Pet's first use 
 ot her breath was to burst out angrily with : 
 
 " Well, it's a wonder you took the blamed thing off until 
 you choked me dead I You ought to be ashamed of your- 
 self, Mr. Garnet, smothermg a young lady this way, in a big 
 blanket like that. I wish you'd let me go. I don't want o 
 be carried nke a baby any longer." 
 
 " Not so fast pretty one," said Garnet, in a low tone of 
 of mocking exultation. " Be in no haste to quit these arms 
 for they are to be your home for the future." 
 
 "Humph! a pretty home they would be!" said Pet 
 contemptuously. '• You'll have to consult me about that Mr' 
 Rozzel Garnet. Let me go, I tell you I I want to ialk" 
 A body might as well let a bear carry them as you ! " 
 
 " As you please, my pretty lady-love 1 " said Garnet " I 
 do riot think you will escape so easily thJs time as you did the 
 last I That was your hour of victory : this is mine Then 
 you said neither earth, air, fire, nor water could hold vou 
 Perhaps stout walls of rock can ? " ^ ' 
 
 "Don't be too sure, Mr. Garnet. There is such a thing 
 as blowing up rocks, or an earthquake might happen, or the 
 sea might overflow, or you and all your brothers in villainv 
 might get paralytic strokes, or Satan might come and carrv 
 oft the whole of you bodily to your future home. I'm sur'e 
 I wish he would. You'll be an ornament to it when youcet 
 there-a' burning and shining light,' in every sense of The 
 wordl A.nt you proud of yourself to have carried off a 
 little girl so beautifully ? When you found you couldn 't do it 
 
 1 
 
THE OUTLAW'S WIFE. 
 
 299 
 
 alone you got another to help you, and so you bravely \yon 
 the battle. Two great, big men to carry off one little girl I 
 What an achievement 1 What a victory I You ought to have 
 a leather medal and a service of tin plate presented to 
 each of you 1 Oh my 1 " said Pet, in tones of withering 
 
 irony. 
 
 Had it not been pitch dark where they stood, Pet would 
 have seen his sallow face blanch with anger ; but subduing 
 his rage in the comforting thought that this little double- 
 refined essence of audacity was completely in his power, he 
 smiled an evil and most sinister smile, and replied: 
 
 " Jet, flash, and sparkle, little grenade 1 Dart fire, little 
 stiletto, but you can do no more 1 Snarl and show your 
 white teeth, little kitten ; but your claws are shielded— you 
 cannot bite now. Expand your wings, my bright little hum- 
 ming-bird ; but you will find them clipped. Try to soar to 
 your native heaven, my dazzling, glorious bird of paradise ; 
 and your drooping plumes will fall, fluttering and earth-stained, 
 to the dust." 
 
 " Well, that all sounds mighty fine, Mr. Garnet, and is a 
 grand flourish of rhetoric on your part. I made no doubt 
 but you'll excuse me if I don't understand a single blessed 
 word of it. You're a schoolmaster, and, of course, ought to 
 understand what's proper; but your grand tropes and figures 
 of speech are all a waste of powder and shot when addressed 
 to me. Just talk in plain English, and don't keep calling me 
 names, and I'll feel greatly obliged. What a grenade and all 
 them other things are I haven't the remotest idea ; but I 
 expect they're something dreadful bad, or you wouldn't keep 
 calling me them. It's real impolite in you to talk so ; and I 
 wonder you ain't ashamed of yourself, Rozzel Garnet 1 " 
 
 " No, you don't understand, Miss Lawless," he said slowly, 
 and with the same evil smile. " Shall I tell you in plainer 
 words my meaning ? " 
 
 " No, you needn't bother yourself," said Pet, shortly. 
 
 < The less you say to me the better I'll like it. I'm not in 
 
 ^he habit of talking to the offcasts of society, such as you are, 
 
 Mr. Garnet ; and, like frog-soup, though it does well enough 
 
 for a time, one doesn't like it as a constant thing." 
 
 " Here, push on ! push on ! " said the gruff voice of Black 
 Bart behind them. " No use standing palavering here all 
 
300 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ii ' 
 
 li: 
 
 night. Get along, Rozzy, boy, and taking tliis little snapping, 
 turtle along with you. Up with the glim, Jack, till ma'm'selle 
 sees where she's going." 
 
 All this time they had been wrapped In the blackness of 
 Tartarus, but now the two men descended the stone steps, and 
 one of them, holding up a dark-lantern, let its rays stream 
 round. Pet curiously cast her eyes about and saw she was 
 in a narrow, rocky passage, with her head not more than an 
 inch from the top. How far it led she could not tell, for the rays 
 of light penetrated but a few feet, and beyond that stretched 
 a black, yawning chasm that might have been the entrance 
 into Pandemotiium itself. 
 
 " Now, in we goes," said Black Bart, giving Pet a sli^^ht 
 push forward. "Go first, Rozzy, lad, and show little 
 mustard-seed, here, the way. Jack and I will keep in your 
 wake." 
 
 " Mustard-seed and snapping-turtle," muttered Pet, as she 
 prepared to follow Garnet. <« Pet, my dear, you will have as 
 many a/iascs before long as the most notorious blackleg from 
 here to the Cannibal Islands. Well, if I'm not in a fix to- 
 night I What will they say at home ? " 
 
 As they went on the passage grew wider and broader, 
 until at last Pet found herself in a spacious rock-bound 
 apartment, well lighted, rudely furnished, and occupied by 
 some half-dozen rough, hard-looking men in the garb of 
 sailors. They were lying in various attitudes about the floor, 
 with the exception of two, who sat at a rough deal-table play- 
 ing cards. 
 
 They turned their eyes carelessly enough as Rozzel Garnet 
 entered ; but as their eyes fell upon Pet each man sprung 
 to his feet, and stared at her in undisguised wonder. 
 
 There she stood, in the full glare of the light ; her slender, 
 girlish form drawn up to its full hight ; her brilliant silk dress 
 flashing and glittering in the light ; her short, dancing, flash- 
 ing curls of jet falling around her crimson cheeks ; her bright, 
 undaunted black eyes wide open, and returning every stare as 
 composedly as though she were sitting in her father's hall, and 
 these men were her servants. Very much out of place looked 
 Pet, in her rich, sheeny robes and da2^1ing beauty, amid those 
 roughly-ciad, savage-looking men, and in that dismal under 
 ground apartment. 
 
 (,■■ - 
 
THE OUTLAW'S WII^E. 
 
 301 
 
 le snapping- 
 .1 ma'm'selle 
 
 •lackness of 
 e steps, and 
 ays stream 
 law she was 
 )re than an 
 for the rays 
 at stretched 
 le entrance 
 
 *et a slight 
 show little 
 ;ep in your 
 
 Pet, as she 
 .vill have as 
 ickleg from 
 in a fix to- 
 
 d broader, 
 rock-bound 
 xupied by 
 le garb of 
 It the floor, 
 -table play- 
 
 zel Garnet 
 lan sprung 
 er. 
 
 er slender, 
 t silk dress 
 cing, flash- 
 her bright, 
 jry stare as 
 s hall, and 
 ace looked 
 imid those 
 mal under 
 
 « Where is she ? " asked Rozzel Garnet, unheeding their 
 
 blank stare of surprise. ..u ,. 
 
 u Who?— the missis?" asked one of the men, without 
 
 removing his eyes from Pet. 
 
 " Yes — of course." j -d * 
 
 The man pointed to the remote end of the room ; and Fet, 
 turning her eyt-s in that direction saw a sort of opening in 
 the wall, serving evidently for a door, and covered by a 
 screen of thick, dark baize. 
 
 Garnet went toward it and called : 
 
 i' Madame Marguerite." 
 
 " Well," said a woman's voice from within, with a strong 
 
 foreign accent. 
 
 '< Can I see you a moment, on business i 
 
 « Yes— enter." And Pet saw a small, delicate-looking 
 hand push aside the screen, and Garnet disappeared within. 
 
 - Here, little nettle, sit down," said Black Bart, pushing a 
 stool tov. ard Pet, gallantly, with his foot. " How do you like 
 the looks of this here place, young woman ? 
 
 " Well " said Pet, " I should say there was no danger ot 
 thieves breaking in at night ; and by the look of things 1 don't 
 expect they would find much for their pains, if they did 
 break in. There's no danger of its blowing down windy 
 
 "'^'Wdi'^no^r reckon there isn't," said Black Bart with a 
 grin, " seeing it's right under a hill, and nothing but solid 
 
 rocks above and below." nu„^r^u 
 
 " A strong foundation," said Pet; "Like the true Church 
 
 it's built on a rock. I should think it would be damp, 
 
 though, when the tide rises and fills it ; and I am subject to 
 
 rheumatism — " , , • t^i ^,.^ 1 
 
 " No danger," said Bart. " I'll risk your drowning. Theie I 
 
 Garnet's calling you, Go in there." , , , . __„* 
 Pet arose, and Garnet, holding back the baize screen, 
 motioned her to enter. She obeyed and looked curiously 
 
 ^"^"-rhe'room was smaller than the one she had left and better 
 furnished. The rocky floor was covered with India matting, 
 and chairs, couches, and tables were strewn indiscriminately 
 around. A bed with heavy curtains stood in one corner, 
 and a stand containing books, writing materials, and drawing 
 
3oa THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 utensils stood opposite. Pet gave all these but a fleeting 
 glance, and then her whole attention was caught and occup ed 
 by he person who stood between them, with tne hand reS 
 on the back of a cha.r, and her eyes fixed with a sort of stern^ 
 haughty scrutiny on Pet. ■ 
 
 It was a woman of some five-and-thirty years of age of 
 
 Sill He';r.f h'T'-V' f ^°''^ '-^"^^ 4ed blaclf sitin 
 dress. Her fire had evidently once been verv handsnmp 
 
 for It still bore traces of former beauty ; but now it was thin' 
 
 sallow, and faded-looking still morei;ded in con rT t ith 
 
 -he unnaturally large, lustrous black eyes by which k was it 
 
 up. Her hair, thick and black, hung disorde ed and un 
 
 combed far ver her shoulders, while jtwels flashed rom the 
 
 pendants in her ears, and sparkled on the small, beautiful 
 
 hands. Something in that face moved Pet as nothing had 
 
 ever done before-there was such a look of proud suHcn 
 
 despair in the wild black eyes ; a sort of fierce'haugh " ss 
 
 m the dark, v.eird face ; a look of passionate impatience 
 
 hidden anguish undying woe. in the slumbering depths o 
 
 those gloomy haunting eyes, that Pet wonderc^l ^,Uo she 
 
 could be, or what great sorrow she had ever endured. There 
 
 Weur'Jhat if'Tl^ ''°"^ '"' '""'-^ '^''y' — anding 
 hauteur that showed she was queen and mistress here and 
 
 "This is the girl, Madame Marguerite," said Garnet 
 respectfully, « I intrust her to your'care until the captain 
 
 "She shall be cared for. That will do," said the woman 
 waving her hand until all its burning rubies and Wa^.nP 
 diamonds seemed to encircle it with sparks of fire ^ 
 
 Garnet bowed low, cast a triumphant glance on Pet as he 
 passed and hissed softly in her ear :<' Mine own-mine 
 
 peTr'ed " "^ '''" ""' '"^^'^ ^^^ ^^'^^^^ -^ disLi> 
 
 The cold, proud, black eyes were fixed piercingly on Pet • 
 
 but that yoimg lady bore it as she had done manv another 
 
 stare, without flinching. ^ another 
 
 " Sit down," said the woman, with her strong foreign in- 
 tonation, pointmg to a seat. ^ 
 
 Pet obeyed, saying, as she did so i 
 
 
 '-Mi 
 
THE OUTLAW'S WIFE. 
 
 303 
 
 «< I may as well, I suppose. Am I expected to stay here 
 
 ill night ? " . . . ^ 
 
 " Yes," said the woman, curtly, " and many more nights 
 after that. You can occupy my bed ; I will sleep on one of 
 these lounge, while you remain 
 
 "Well "said Pet, •• I wouk' '^c to know what 1 am 
 b-ought here for anyway. Some of Rozzel Garnet's capers 
 I suppose, lie had better look out ; for when I get^ free, if 
 the gallows don't got their due it won't be my fault." 
 
 «' Rozzel (}.irnet hail nothing to do with it ; ue was but 
 acting for another in bringing you here." 
 
 " For another ? " .-^aid Pet, with the utmost surprise ; " who 
 the mischief is it ? " 
 
 " That you are not to know at present. v\ hen the pro- 
 per time comes, that, what many other things, will be re- 
 
 ^^'" So I'm like a bundle of goods, ' left till called for,' " said 
 Pet ; " now, who could have put themselves to so much un- 
 necessary trouble to have me carried off, I want to know ? 
 I thought I hadn't an enemy in the world, but his excel- 
 lency, the right worshipful Rozzel Garnet. It can't be Or- 
 lando Toosypegs, surely— hum-m-m. I do wonder who 
 can it be," s.iid Pet, musingly. 
 
 While Pet was holding converse with herself, the woman, 
 Marguerite, had gone out. Pet waited for her return until, 
 in spite of her strange situation, her eyes began to drop 
 heavily. A little clock on a shelf strucl< the hour of mid- 
 night, and still she came not. Pet was sleepy, awfully 
 sleepy; and, rubbing her eyes and yawnin- , she got up, and 
 holding her eyes open with her fingers, kneeled down and 
 said ner usual night-prayers, and then jump ;d into bed, and 
 fell into a sound sleep, in which Rozzel Garnet, and Mar- 
 guerite, and the under-ground cave, and her previous night's 
 adventure, were one and all forgotten. 
 
 When Pet awoke she found herself alone and the apart- 
 ment lit up by a swinging-lamp, exactly as ir had been the 
 night before. She glanced at the clock and ^aw the hands 
 pointed to half-past ten. A litde round st nd had been 
 placed close to her bed, on which all the para )hernalia of a 
 breakfast for one was placed. On a chair at t .e foot of the 
 
' I ' l ' l ' lMi .Ml mf 
 
 "B'l If*- 
 
 304 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ■,5: 1 
 
 bed was a basin and ewer, with water, combs, brushes, and a 
 small looking-glass. 
 
 Pet, with an appetite not at all diminished, sprung out of 
 bed, hastily washed her face and hands, brushed out her 
 silken curls, said her morning-prayers, and then, sitting down 
 at the table, fell to with a zest and eagerness that woad 
 have horrified Miss Priscilla Toosypegs. The coffee was 
 excellent, the rolls incomparable, the eggs cooked to a turn, 
 and Miss Pet did ample justice to all. 
 
 As she completed her meal, the screen was pushed aside, 
 and the woman Marguerite entered. 
 
 *' Good-morning," said Pet. 
 
 The woman bent her head in a slight acknowledgment. 
 
 " I suppose it's daylight outside by this time ? " said Pet. 
 
 " Yes, it was daylight five hours ago," was the reply. 
 
 " Well, it's pleasant to know even that. What am I to do 
 for the rest of the day, I want to know ? " 
 
 " Whatever you please." 
 
 " A wide margin ; the only thing I would please to do, if I 
 could, would be to go out and walk home. That, I suppose, 
 is against the rules ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but there are books and drawing materials ; you 
 can amuse yourself with them." 
 
 " Thankee ; poor amusement, but better than none, I ex- 
 pect. Who is commander here, the captain I heard them 
 speak of ? " 
 
 " My husband," said the woman, proudly. 
 
 " And where is he now ? I should Hke to have a talk 
 with him, and have things straightened out a little if possi- 
 ble." 
 
 '• He is absent, and will not be back for some days." 
 
 *• Hum I this is, then, the hiding-place of the smugglers 
 they make such a fuss about — eh ? " said Pet. 
 
 " Yes, they are smugglers — worse, perhaps," said the 
 woman, sullenly. 
 
 " There I I know I'd find it ; I always said so I " ex- 
 claimed Pet, exultantly. " Oh, if I could only get out I See 
 here, I wish you would let me escape 1 " 
 
 The woman looked at her with her wild, black eyes for a 
 moment, and then went on with her occupation of cleaning 
 off the table, as if she had not heard her. 
 
 
THE OUTLAW'S WlFEi 
 
 305 
 
 brushes, and a 
 
 mshed aside, 
 
 '« Because," persisted Pet, " I'm of no use to any one here, 
 and they'll be anxious about me up home. They don't know 
 I'm out, you know." 
 
 The woman went calmly on with her work without reply- 
 ing, and Pet, seeing it was all a waste of breath, pleading, 
 goT up and went over to the shelf where the books were, in 
 search of something to read. A number of pencil-drawings 
 lay scattered about. Pet took them, and little as she 
 knew of art, she saw they had been sketched by a master- 
 hand. , , 
 
 "Oh, how pretty! "she exclaimed ;" was it you drew 
 
 these ? '' 
 
 "No; my husband," answered the woman. "They are 
 
 all fancy sketches, he says." 
 
 There was a sort of bitterness in the last words, un- 
 noticed by Pet, who was eagerly and admiringly examining 
 the drawings. One, in particular, struck her ; it represented 
 a large, shadowy church, buried in mingled lights and shades, 
 that gave a gloomy, spectral, weird appearance to the scene. 
 At the upper end, near the grand altar, stood a youth and a 
 maiden, while near a white-robed clergyman, book in hand. 
 A dying bird se',;med fluttering over their heads, and ready 
 to drop at their feet. The face of the youth could not be 
 seen, but the lovely, childlike face of the girl was the chief 
 attraction of the drawing. Its look of unutterable love, 
 mingled with a strange, nameless terror ; its rare loveliness, 
 and the passionate worship in the eyes upturned to him who 
 stood beside her, sent a strange thrill to the very heart of 
 Pet. A vague idea that she had seen a face bearing a shad- 
 owy resemblance to the beautiful one in the picture some- 
 where before, struck her. The face was familiar, just as 
 those we see in dreams are ; but whether she had dreamed 
 of one like this, or had really seen it, she could not tell. 
 She gazed and gazed ; and the longer she gazed, the surer 
 she was that she had really and certainly seen, if not that 
 face, some one very like it, before. 
 
 " Can you tell me if this is a fancy sketch ? " said Pet, 
 
 holding it up. 
 
 " My husband says so. Why ? " asked the woman, fix- 
 
 : 1 r. ...tfV. T Ironn ciicnioi.-Mic crlanrp. nn Pet. 
 
 mg llCl eyes, wUll d. rtCvSlj ,.i...j Q . — - — 
 
 " Oh, nothing ; only it seems to me as if I had seen that 
 
t^ « 
 
 If Si 
 
 306 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ^here't^ III' 17 '"'"'^''■^ '='"'"°' "collect when or 
 
 wnere , out L know I have seen it. 
 
 " You only imagine so." 
 
 "No, I don't I never imagine anything. Oh her^'. 
 another; what a pretty child 1 'why-Jhy, L boks like 
 
 It represented a beautiful, dark little girl, a mere infant 
 but resplendently beautiful. mtant, 
 
 "She was my child," said the woman, in a low hard de 
 spairrng voice, as she looked straight before her ' 
 
 And where is she ? " asked Pet, softly 
 " I don't know-dead, I expect," said the woman in that 
 
 It sni ;e she died .> " ^ -now long is 
 
 old" Jhin 'T!i y^^'\''''^^ ^e lost her ; she was two years 
 nt it , J.''^ "°^ ^"°^ ^^hether she is living or dead 
 
 2tfT ' ^''t ' '; '"^^ '''' "«'"^"' passionatel^r wl ile L; 
 whole frame shook with the violence of emotion.^ 
 
 No tear fell, no sob shook her breast, but words can nev^r 
 describe the utter agony of that despaiHng cry. "''"' 
 
 mnlt-^'^ Tr- ^^''' ^" ^^^'" ^y^^ "o^-i" those flashing 
 mocking, defying eyes; and in silent sympathy she took ?£ 
 woman's hand in her own little brown fingers and softly 
 began caressing it. ^ ' i>oiuy 
 
 "It was in London we lost her~in the great, vast citv of 
 London. I was out with her, one day, and s;erg a vas 
 
 nXV ''' '°T °^ ^'^ ''''''' ' -'"t over!hofding my 
 httle Marguerite by the hand, to see what wa;the mftt7 
 The crowd increased ; we were wedged in, and couki not' 
 extricate ourselves. Suddenly some one gave her a null 
 her little hand relaxed its hold; I heard her cry ou?-^and 
 s riekmg madly. I burst from the crowd in search of her 
 bu she was gone. I rushed shrieking through the streets 
 until they arrested me as a lunatic, and carr fd n'e off Fo 
 a long, long time after, I remember nothing. My husband 
 found me out and took charge of me;' but le Xr heard 
 of our child after that. I nearlv went mnd T " ! ' f /"* 
 a time ; but it has passed. Since that -day; wl n^vVrh^eaM 
 
 TTTfitr'itiiffiTaiWm 
 
- ♦ * -ift * TTr#,f»t^siji^ljft ^.t (|, J 
 
 :ollect when or 
 
 • Oh, here's 
 he looks like 
 
 a mere infant, 
 
 low, hard, de- 
 
 oman, in that 
 han any tears 
 
 coming over. 
 How long is 
 
 as two years 
 ng or dead, 
 ly, while her 
 
 ds can never 
 
 ►sft flashing, 
 
 she took the 
 
 and softly 
 
 vast city of 
 eing a vast 
 
 holding my 
 
 the matter. 
 I could not 
 
 her a pull ; 
 ■y out ; and 
 irch of her ; 
 the streets 
 le off. For 
 fy husband 
 Pver heard 
 '3.S mad for 
 ever heard 
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 307 
 
 of Rita. I heard them say she was stolen for her extraordi- 
 nary beauty; but, living or dead, I feel she is forever lo.t to 
 me — forever lost — forever lost I " 
 
 She struck her bosom with her hand, and rocked back 
 and forward, while her wild, black eyes gazed steadily before 
 her with that same rigid look of changeless despair. 
 
 '♦ I loved her better than anything in earth or heaven, 
 except her father — my heart was wrapped up in hers — she 
 was the dearest part of myself ; and, since I lost her, life 
 has been a mockery — worse than a mockery to me. Girl ! " 
 she said, looking up suddenly and fiercely, " never love 1 
 Try to escape woman's doom of loving and losing, and of 
 living on, when death is the greatest blessing God can send 
 you. Never love 1 Tear your heart out and throw it in the 
 flames sooner than love and live to know your golden idol 
 is an image of worthless clay. Girl, remember I " and she 
 sprung to her feet, her eyes blazing with a maniac light, and 
 grasped Pet so fiercely by the arm that she was forced to stifle 
 a cry of pain, " never love — never love ! Take a dagger and 
 send your soul to eternity sooner 1 " 
 
 She flung Pet from her with a violence that sent her reel- 
 ing against the wall, and darted from the room. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXH. 
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 " He knew himself a villain, but he deemed 
 The rest no better than the thing he seemed ; 
 And scorned the best as hypocrites, who hid, 
 Those deeds the bolder spirit plainly did. 
 He knew himself detested, but he knew 
 The hearts that loathed him crouched and dreaded, too. 
 Ivone, wild and strange he stood, alike exempt 
 From all affection and from all contempt." 
 
 — Byron. 
 
 That first day of her imprisonment seemed endless to 
 Pet. She yawned over her books, and dozed over the draw- 
 ings, and fell asleep, wondering what they were doing at 
 home, and vvhen they would come in search of her ; and 
 dreamed she was creeping through some hole in the wall, 
 
308 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 II \ 
 
 making her escape, and awoke to find herself crawling on 
 all fours between the legs of the table. It was the longest, 
 dreariest day Pet had ever known. The woman Marguerite 
 did not make her appearance again, and Pet's meals were 
 served by a bright, bold-eyed lad, whom she plied with some 
 fifty questions or so in a breath ; but as the boy was a Span- 
 iard, and did not speak nor understand a word of English, 
 Miss Lawless did not gain much by this. As there was no 
 means of telling day from night, Pet would have thought a 
 week had elapsed but for the little clock that so slowly and 
 provokingly pointed out the lagging hours. 
 
 " This being taken captive and carried off to a romantic 
 dungeon by a lot of bearded outlaws is not what it's 
 cracked up to be, after all," said Pet, gaping fit to strain her 
 jaws. " It's all very nice to read about in story books, and 
 see at the theater ; but in real life, come to look at it, it's the 
 most horridly-slow affair ever was. Now, when I used to 
 read about the lovely princess being carried off by the fiery 
 dragon (by the way, I'd like to see a fiery dragon — I never 
 ^/V/ see one yet), I used to wish I had been in her place ; but 
 I know better now. She must have had a horrid stupid 
 time of it in that enchanted castle, until that nice young 
 man, the prince, came, and carried her off. Heigho ! What 
 a pity I have no prince to come for f/ie/ Wonder if Ray 
 Germaine's gone yet — but, there ! I don't care whether he is 
 or not. He does not care two pins whether he ever sees 
 me again or not. Nobody cares about me, and I'm nothing 
 but a poor, abused, diabolical little wretch. Oh, yaw-w-w ! 
 Lor' I how sleepy I am 1 I do wish somebody would come 
 and talk to me , even Rozzel Garnet, or that man with all 
 the black whiskers, who was impolite enough to call me 
 names, or that wild, odd-looking outlaw queen — anybody 
 would be better than none. I'll blue-mould — I'll run to 
 seed — I'll turn to dust and ashes, if I'm kept here much 
 I know I will ! " 
 
 And, yawning repeatedly. Pet pitched her book impatient- 
 ly across the room, and, stretching herself on a lounge, in 
 five minutes was sound asleep. 
 
 The clock, striking ten, awoke her. She rubbed her eyes 
 and looked drowsily up, and the first object on which her 
 eyes rested was the motionless form of Rozzel Garnet, as 
 
 longer 
 
 1 
 
w. 
 
 THE 0UT1.AW. 
 
 309 
 
 ;elf crawling on 
 vas the longest, 
 nan Marguerite 
 et's meals were 
 plied with some 
 oy was a Span- 
 ord of English, 
 L.S there was no 
 have thought a 
 t so slowly and 
 
 T to a romantic 
 not what it's 
 fit to strain her 
 ory books, and 
 ik at it, it's the 
 vhen I used to 
 off by the fiery 
 ■agon — I never 
 
 1 her place ; but 
 L horrid stupid 
 lat nice young 
 Heigho! What 
 Vonder if Ray 
 
 2 whether he is 
 :r he ever sees 
 nd I'm nothing 
 
 Oh, yaw-w-w ! 
 [y would come 
 t man with all 
 :igh to call me 
 aeen — anybody 
 d — I'll run to 
 ept here much 
 
 )ook impatient- 
 in a lounge, in 
 
 abbed her eyes 
 
 on which her 
 
 zzel Garnet, as 
 
 he stood near, with folded arms, gazing down upon her, with 
 his usual sinister smile. 
 
 '• Oh I you're here — are you ? " said Pet, composedly, after 
 her first prolonged stare. " I must say, it shows a great deal 
 of delicacy and politeness on your part to enter a young 
 lady's sleeping-apa-tment after this fashion. What new 
 mischief has your patron saint with the cloven foot put you 
 up to now ? " 
 
 " Saucy as ever, little wasp ! You should be careful how 
 you talk now, knowing you are in my power." 
 
 " Should I, indeed ? Don't you think you see me afraid 
 of you, Mr. Garnet? Just fancy me, with my finger in my 
 mouth and my eyes cast down, trembling before any man, 
 much less you ! Ha, ha, ba 1 don't you hope you may live 
 to see it ? " 
 
 " It is in my power to make you afraid of me 1 You are 
 here a captive, beyond all hope of escape — mind, beyond 
 the power of heaven and earth to free you. Say, then, 
 beautiful dragon-fly, radiant little fay, how are you to defy 
 me ? Your hour of triumph has passed, though you seem 
 not to know it. You have queened it right royally long 
 enough. My turn has come at last. I have conquered the 
 conqueress, caged the eaglet, tamed the wild queen of the 
 kelpies, won the most beautiful, enchanting, intoxicating 
 fairy that ever inflamed the heart or set on fire the brain of 
 man." 
 
 " Yes — boast 1 " said Pet, getting up and composedly be- 
 ginning to twine her curls over her fingers. " But self-praise 
 is no recommendation. If by all those names you mean me, 
 let me tell you not to be too sure even yet. It's not right 
 to cheer until you are out of the woods, you know, Mr. 
 Garnet; and, really, you're not such a lady-killer, after all, 
 as you think yourself. You can't hold fire without burning 
 your fingers, Mr. Garnet, as you'll find, if you attempt any 
 nonsense with me. So, your honor's worship, the best thing 
 you can do is, to go off to your boon companions, and mind 
 your own business for the future, and leave me to finish 
 my nap." 
 
 " Sorrv to refuse vour polite request, Miss Lawless," he 
 said, with a sneer ; " but, really, I cannot leave you to soli- 
 tude and loneliness, this way. As I have a number of things 
 
t"'< ' ,<i ' «n1 
 
 310 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 to sit down, I think I will just avail myself of a friends 
 privilege, and take a seat myself " ^ ^ 01 a iriend s 
 
 sideteron "r^^Y^'-^^^^y the gentleman seated himself be- 
 side her on the lounge. Pet sprung up with a rebound 
 
 her fet' "7 ' ^" of India-rubber, Sr h'ad steel s^ingsfn 
 ing eyes.' "^"^'^""'^^ ^'^ ^'^'^ blazing cheeks and lasi" 
 
 '' You hateful, disagreeable, yellow old ogre " she hnr^t 
 ouwxth;'' keep the seat to yourself, then, Hou want • 
 but don't dare to come near me again I D^n 't dare I sav 1 '' 
 And she stamped her foot, passionately, like the Httle t^eL 
 pest hat she was. " It's dangerous work plav L iTh 
 cham-lightning, Mr. Rozzel Garnet ; so blwarned^ 1^ time 
 I vow to Sam I if I had a broomstick handy I'd let Z 
 know what It IS to put a respectable young woman in a rale 
 You sit beside me, indeed 1 Faugh^ ther^'T pollution Tn 
 the very air you breathe I '' p^iiuuon m 
 
 He turned for an instant, livid with anger ; but to lose his 
 
 drT^'.'.^'f u"° • ^' ^.^^^' "°^' ^"'^ «° s4ing down the httle 
 draught of her irritating words as best he might, he said 
 
 ' Ay 1 rave, and storm, and flash fire, my lit le tornado- 
 but It will avail you nothing. You but beat the aTr wi?h 
 your breath, though, really, f do not know as i fs u elTss 
 either, for you look so dazzhngly beautiful in Ur roused 
 wrath, my dear inflammation of the heart, that you make me 
 love you twice as much as ever." ^ 
 
 .lnn'!^°" ^T '"^J,^deedl" said Pet, contemptuously "I 
 
 done \l"Jv"' '"'"^ u'T ^"^y "^ "^y forefathers have ever 
 done, that I'm compelled to stand up here, like patience or 
 
 to It I 1 11 go and call that woman, I declare I will and 
 make her pack you off with a flea in your ear " ' 
 
 -Not so fast, my pretty one," said Garnet, with his usual 
 Pet '"M^d^''^''^''^'^^"^ ^^'"-^ ^"d caught hoM o 
 
 Tack to^ttr Tpf '^"'" u ^"' ^""" "^^^y' ^"d "^-y not l.e 
 back to-night. Ihe men have all gone, too, but one and he 
 
 IS lying under the table out there, dead drunk How now 
 
 my httle flame of fire ? Does this damp your courage any "' 
 
 For the first trnie, the conviction thafs^e was compfe^elv 
 
 in his power thrilled through the heart of Pet, makkig t >^ 
 
 TnimiiMt 
 
THE OUTI.AW. 
 
 3" 
 
 ?re," she burst 
 
 for one moment, almost dizzy with nameless apprehension. 
 But the mocking, exulting eyes of his everywhere bent 
 tauntingly upon her, and the high spirit of the brave girl 
 flashed indignantly up ; and, fixing her flashing black eyes 
 full on his face, she answered, boldly : 
 
 " No, it doesn't! Damp my courage, forsooth 1 Do you 
 really suppose I am afraid of you, Rozzel Garnet ? of you, 
 the most arrant, wliite-livered coward God ever afflicted the 
 earth with 1 I la I ha 1 why, if you think so, you are a greater 
 fool than even I ever took you to be." 
 
 His teeth closed with a spasmodic snap ; he half rose, in 
 his fierce rage, to his feet, as he hissed : 
 
 " Girl, take care I tempt me not too far, lest I make you 
 feel what it is to taunt me beyond endurance 1 " 
 
 " Barking dogs seldom bite, Mr. Garnet ; little snarling 
 curs, never." 
 
 *' By heaven, girl, I will strangle you if you do not stop 1 " 
 he shouted, springing fiercely to his feet. 
 
 She took one step back, laid her hand on a carving-knife 
 that had been on the table since dinner-time, and looked up 
 in his face with a deriding smile. 
 
 In spite of himself, her dauntless spirit and bold daring 
 struck him with admiration. He looked at her for a moment, 
 inwardly wondering that so brave and fierce a spirit could 
 exist in a form so slight and frail, and then, with a long 
 breath, he sunk back into his seat. 
 
 •' That's right, Mr. Garnet : I see you have not lost all 
 your reason yet," said Pet, quietly ; " if you value a whole 
 skin, it will be wise for you to keep the length of the room 
 between us. I don't threaten much, but I'm apt to act 
 when aroused." 
 
 " Miss Lawless, forgive my hasty temper. I did not come 
 to threaten you, to-night, but to set you at liberty," said 
 Garnet, looking penitent. 
 
 " Humph 1 set me at liberty 1 I have my doubts about 
 that," said Pet, transfixing him with a long, unwinking stare. 
 
 " Nevertheless, it is true. To-night they are all gone — 
 we are all alone ; say but the word, and in ten minutes you 
 will be as free as the winds of heaven." 
 
 *' Worse and worse i Mr. Garnet, just look me in the eye, 
 will you, and see if you can discover any small mill-stones 
 
T ' t n r 
 
 312 
 
 THK GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 (f ^ 
 
 them? Do you really think I'm green enough to believe 
 you, now ? " 
 
 " Miss Lawless, I swear to you I speak the truth. In 
 ten minutes you may leave this, free and unfettered, if vou 
 will." ^ 
 
 " Well, I declare I Just let me catch my breath after 
 that, will you ? Mr. Garnet, I have heard of Satan turning 
 saint, but I never experienced it before. So you'll set me 
 free, will you ? Well, I'm sure I feel dreadfully obliged to 
 you, though I don't know as I need to, since but only for 
 you I wouldn't be here at all. I'm quite willing to go, 
 though, and am ready to start at any moment." 
 
 " Wait one instant. Miss Petronilla. I will set you free, 
 but on one condition." 
 
 "Ah I I thought so I I was just thinking so, all along ! 
 And what might that condition be, if a body may ask ? " in- 
 quired Pet. 
 
 " That you become my ^ -ife 1 " 
 
 " Phew-w-w ! Great guns and little ones ! bombshells and 
 hurricanes I Fire, murder, and perdition generally 1 You.- 
 wife I Oh, ye gods and little fishes I Hold me, somebody, or 
 I'll go into the high-strikes." 
 
 " Girl, do you mock me ? " passionately exclaimed Garnet, 
 springing to his feet. 
 
 " Mr. Garnet, my £^ear sir, take things easy. It's the 
 worst thing in the world, for the constitution and by-laws, 
 flaring up in this manner. It might produce a rush of brains 
 to the head, that would be the death of you, if from nothing 
 but the very novelty of having them there. 'Sh — sh I now ; I 
 see you are going to burst out with something naughty ; but 
 don't— you really mus'n't speak of your kind friend and 
 patron with the tail and horns, to ears polite. Mock you ! 
 St. Judas Iscariot forbid I I trust I have too much respect 
 for your high and mighty majesty, to do anything so impolite. 
 Sit down, Mr. Garnet, and make your unhappy soul as 
 miserable as circumstances will allow. No, now that I've 
 eased my mind, I'd rather not get married just at present, 
 thank you. I intend to take the black veil some of these 
 long-come-shorts, if I may be allowed so strong an expression, 
 and second-hand nuns are not so nice as they might be. No, 
 Mr. Garnet, I'm exceedingly obliged for your very flattering 
 
 
 
igh to believe 
 
 :he truth. In 
 fettered, if you 
 
 y breath after 
 Satan turning 
 you'll set me 
 lly obliged to 
 ! but only for 
 willing to go, 
 
 1 set you free, 
 
 so, all along ! 
 nay ask ? " in- 
 
 jmbshells and 
 
 nerally I Your 
 
 somebody, or 
 
 aimed Garnet, 
 
 asy. It's the 
 1 and by-laws, 
 rush of brains 
 
 from nothing 
 
 — sh 1 now ; I 
 
 naughty ; but 
 
 d friend and 
 
 Mock you ! 
 
 much respect 
 ig so impolite, 
 appy soul as 
 now that I've 
 st at present, 
 lome of these 
 an expression, 
 light be. No, 
 very flattering 
 
 THE OUTLAW. 
 
 313 
 
 jffer ; but I really must decline the high honor of sharing 
 yo\xv hand, heart, and tooth brush," said Pet, courtesying. 
 
 ",And by all the fiends in flames, minion, you shall not 
 decline it 1 " shouted Garnet, maddened by her indescribably 
 taunting tone. •' By the heaven above us you shall either 
 be my wife or — " 
 
 " Well," said Pet, sitting down at the table, resting her 
 elbows upon it, dropping her chin in her hands, and staring 
 at him as only she could stare ; " what ? " Why don't you go 
 on ? I never like to have a burst of eloquence like that 
 snapped short off in the middle like the stem of a pipe ; it 
 spoils the effect 1 " 
 
 " Then, mad girl, you shall either be iny wife, or share a 
 worse fate." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Garnet, I don't like to contiadict you; but if 
 there can be a worse fate than to have anything to do with 
 you, I'd like to know it — that's all,'' 
 
 " Then you will not consent 1 - he said, glaring on her 
 like a tiger. 
 
 " Mr. Garnet, for goodness' sake don't make such an old 
 goose of yourself, asking silly qu&itioiis 1 " said Pet, yawn- 
 ing. " I wish you would go 1 I'm sleepy, and you look just 
 now so much like a shanghai rooscer with the jaundice, that 
 you'll give me the nightmare if you don't clear out. Mr. 
 Garnet, I don't want to be personal, but even the nicest 
 young men get tiresome after a \nhile." 
 
 " Pet'-onilla Lawless, take care i Have you no fear ? " 
 
 " Well, no, I can't say that I have ; at least, I don't stand 
 very much in awe of you, you kr.ow. I expect I ought to, 
 but I don't. It's not my fault, foif I can't help it." 
 
 "Then, since fair means will not do, something else 
 must 1 " exclaimed Garnet, making a spring toward her, 
 while his eyes were blazing with a terrible light. But Pet 
 was as quick as himself and seizing her formidable weapon 
 she darted back, and flourished it triumphantly, exclainiing : 
 
 " Now for a game of hide-and-go-seek. Catch me if you 
 can, Mr. Garnet; but if y have any consideration for 
 this clean floor, keep a respecu'ul distance. Blood- stains are 
 not the easiest removed in the world, especially such bad 
 blood as yours ; and this long knife and a willing hand can 
 make an ugly wound." 
 
 * 
 
 ■.» 
 
L ^^ut *j m 1 1 .(» « 
 
 I 
 
 314 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 She had him at bay again. There was a fierce, red, dan- 
 gerous hght in her flaming eyes, now; and a look of deep 
 steady determination in the dark, wild little face. Ro/zel 
 Garnet perceptibly cooled down for a moment ; but then as 
 If maddened by her taunting, deriding smile, he bounded 
 toward he. with the fearful spring of a wild beast, and had 
 her m his arms before she could elude his grasp. 
 
 But the bright-winged little wasp had its stini^ yet Up 
 flew the blue, glittering knife, down it descended with all 
 the force of her small arm ; but her aim was not sure, and it 
 lodged in his shoulder. 
 
 With an awful oath, he seized her hands in his vise-like 
 grip, and with his other pulled out the knife. The wound 
 was not deep, yet the blood spurted up as he pulled it out, in 
 his very face. *^ r <■, 
 
 The sight seemed to rouse him to madness ; and Pet 
 writhed with pain in hi^ fierce grasp. She felt herself faint- 
 mg. A dreadful weakness was stealing through her frame • 
 when as if sent by Heaven, a quick, heavy step was heard 
 witnout, and then a commanding voice calling : 
 
 " Hallo, Garnet I where are you ? " 
 
 With a fierce imprecation of rage, the baffled villain hurled 
 the nearly swooning girl from him, and turned to leave the 
 room, hissing in her ear : 
 
 "Foiled again! But you are still in my power. Bv 
 Heaven and all its hosts, I will yet have my revenge 1 " 
 
 Pet dropped into a seat, and, feeling sick and giddy, 
 bowed her head on her hands. Never in her life before hid 
 she fully realized her own weakness. What would all her 
 boasted strength have availed her but for that heavenlv in- 
 terposition ? A moment ago, and she was as a child in the 
 |;rasp of a giant. What an escape she had had I How she 
 
 saved her" ^'^'''^' ^^' ^'^°'''''''' '^ '"^^'^^ ^^^^^ ^een, who had 
 
 Pet's emotions, no matter of what nature, never lasted 
 long, len minutes now sufficed to make " Richard himself 
 again ; and with a short but fervent prayer of thanksgivino- 
 shesat up drew a long breath of unspeakable relief and 
 began looking ruefully at her wrists, all black and blue from 
 his iron pressure. 
 
 " Natural bracelets 1 " said Pet, with a slight grimace of 
 
w. 
 
 lerce, red, dan- 
 1 look of deep, 
 i face. Ro;jzel 
 t ; but then, as 
 e, he bounded 
 jeast, and had 
 isp. 
 
 iting yet. Up 
 ended with all 
 lot sure, and it 
 
 n his vise-like 
 
 The wound 
 
 lulled it out, in 
 
 less ; and Pet 
 t herself faint- 
 gh her frame ; 
 ep was heard 
 
 1 villain hurled 
 d to leave the 
 
 THE OUTI.AW. 
 
 315 
 
 r power. 
 
 By 
 
 venge I 
 
 k and giddy, 
 ife before had 
 would all her 
 heavenly in- 
 i child in the 
 id 1 How she 
 )een, who had 
 
 never lasted 
 :hard himself 
 thanksgiving, 
 e relief, and 
 nd blue from 
 
 It grimace of 
 
 pain. " Jet and azure. I can't say 1 app-ove < i such /io- 
 leiiL love-making; it's unpleasant and ' x' os one — r '.lerl 
 However, 'the course of true love nev d run sn )th,' 
 accoiiling to that nice man, Mr. Shakc.^.care ; thou-h I 
 hope it isn't always as rough as the severe course I under- 
 went just now. Good gracious 1 What a tiger I have 
 raised in that quondam tutor of mine 1 Pretty instructor he 
 was for youth, to be sure I But lo 1 tlie curtain rises I What 
 is to l)e the next scene, I wonder ? " 
 
 As she spoke, the curtain was pushed aside, and a new 
 actor appeared. He walked over to the opposite side of the 
 room, and leaning his elbow on a sort of mantel, gazed with 
 a look of careless curiosity on Pet. 
 
 From the moment that young lady laid her black eyes upon 
 him, she gave a violent start, and looked at him in utter 
 amaze. For, save the disparity in their years, and a certain 
 devil-may-care recklessness that this man had, she saw be- 
 fore her the living image of Ray Germaine I 
 
 The new-comer was a man apparently about forty years of 
 age, with the bold, handsome features, the flashing black 
 eyes, and raven hair of Ray Germaine. His face was 
 bronzed by sun and wind many shades darker than that of 
 his young prototype ; and in his coarse sailor's garb he looked 
 the very beau ideal of a bold, reckless buccaneer. And yet, 
 withal, he bore about him the same air of refinement Pet had 
 noticed in the woman Marguerite, as if both had originally 
 belonged to a far different grade of society than the branded 
 outlaws to whom they now were joined. 
 
 But that likeness — that wonderful resemblance to Ray 
 Germaine — it completely upset Miss Lawless' nonchalance, 
 as nothing in the world had ever done before. There she 
 sat and stared, unable to remove her eyes from the dark, 
 browned, handsome face that was turned toward her with a 
 look half careless, half admiring, and wholly amused. 
 
 The man was the first to break the silence. 
 
 *• You are the young lady they brought here last night, I 
 presume ? " he said, watching her curiously. 
 
 His voice, too, was like Ray's, and bespoke him, even if 
 nothing else had done so, above his calling — being those 
 low, modulated tones that can only be educated into a man. 
 
 Pet did not reply. She did not hear him ; in fact, being 
 
f* 
 
 • •» I K.-t*-* 
 
 316 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 Still lost in digesting her surprise at this astounding reseno- 
 blance. He watched her for a moment as if waiting for an 
 answer, and then a smile broke over his face. Pushing back 
 his thick, clustering, raven hair, he said : 
 
 '• Yes, look at me well, young lady. I presume you never 
 saw an outlaw with a price upon his head before. Is it to 
 curiosity alone, or is it to some concealed deformity, that I 
 am indebted for that piercing scrutmy ? " 
 
 Pet was aroused now, and reddened slightly at his words 
 and look. Then her old impudence came back, and she 
 answered quietly : 
 
 '• No, you're not the only outlaw with a price upon his 
 head I have ever seen. I have just had the honor of hold- 
 ing an interview with one ; though, really, I don't think his 
 head is worth a price above ten cents, if that. I suppose I 
 have the sublime happiness of beholding his mightiness, the 
 commander-in-chief of all the smugglers?" 
 
 " Even so 1 I have returned, you perceive, sooner than 
 was expected ; in fact, solely upon your account. I heard 
 you were here, and came to see you." 
 
 '' Indeed ! Well, I hope you like me ? " said Pet, pertly. 
 
 "Most decidedly," said the outlaw, passing his hand 
 caressingly over his whiskers ; " so much, in fact, that if I 
 were not a married man I should be tempted to fall deplor- 
 ably in love with you on the spot." 
 
 " Well, you'll greatly oblige me by doing nothing of the 
 sort," said Pet. " I have had enough of love to last me for 
 one while. Love's not the pleasantest thing in the world, 
 judging by what I've seen of the article ; and with the 
 blessing of Providence, I'm going to have nothing whatever 
 to do with it. May I ask the name of the gentleman whose 
 prisoner I have the unspeakable happiness of being? " 
 
 " Certainly. I am called, for want of a better. Captain 
 Reginald." 
 
 " Captain Reg' "i what ? That's not a whole name." 
 
 His brow darkened for a moment at some passing thought, 
 then he replied : 
 
 '< Never mind ; it serves the purpose, and it's the only one 
 I believe I ever had a right to. I am afraid you find the 
 solitude here rather irksome — do you not ? " 
 
 " Well, Captain Reginald, to be candid with you, it's not 
 
THE OUTLAW. 
 
 317 
 
 to say a place where a body would like to spend their lives. 
 There's no danger of one's growing dissipated here, or any- 
 thing that way, you know— which is, of course, an advantage. 
 And now, might I ask who the gentleman is who has put 
 himself to the very ' nnecessary trouble of having me earned 
 off ? All the rest i com to be dumb on the subject, from some 
 
 cause." , 11. 
 
 " I fear I will have to be dumb, too, my dear young lady; 
 
 the gentleman who has shown his good taste by falling in 
 
 love with you does not wish to be known at present. Can 
 
 you not guess yourself ? " , ,^ 1 /-. » 
 
 " Haven't the remotest idea, unless it be Rozzel Garnet, or 
 
 Orlando Toosypegs ? " , u *. 
 
 " No— neither 1 Garnet, of course, brought you here, but 
 he was paid to do it by another— we outlaws do anything, 
 from murder down, for money. As for Toosypegs, or what- 
 ever the name may be, I haven't the pleasure of knowing 
 him ; but I can assure you it is not he." 
 
 «< Well, then, I give it up. I never was good at guessing, 
 so I'll not bother my brain about it. Is it high treason to 
 ask how long I am to be cooped up here in this underground 
 
 hole?" 
 
 " Perhaps a fortnight, perhaps longer.' 
 
 " Vipers and rattlesnakes 1— two whole blessed weeks I— 
 whew ! Well, Mr. Captain, aU I have to say is that I'll be 
 a melancholy case of ' accidental death ' before half the time, 
 and then I wish your patron, whoever he may be, joy of his 
 
 bargain." 
 
 " We will hope for better things, my dear young lady.^ By 
 the way, I have not heard your name yet— what is it ? " 
 
 " Pet Lawless— better known to her unhappy friends as 
 ' Imp, Elf, Firefly, Nettle, Pepperpod,' and many other 
 equally proper, appropriate and suggestive names. Queen 
 regent and mistress imperial to all the witches and warlocks 
 that ever rode on broomsticks,' and leaves a large and dis- 
 agreeable circle of friends to mourn her untimely loss. J?e- 
 quitscat in pacey 
 
 All this Pet brought out at a breath, and so rapidly that 
 the smuggler captain looked completely bewildered. 
 
 " Lawless 1 " he exclaimed. " I did not think— do you 
 know Judge Lawless of Heath Hill ? " he asked abruptly. 
 
 Ill 
 
 % 
 
""l^lJlciforrnCTx 
 
 •SmjLMJUm... 
 
 318 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 t': 
 
 I ' ;■. 
 
 i.f 
 
 «' Slightly acquainted. They say I'm -a daughter of his," 
 said Pet, composedly. 
 
 " His daughter ? Young lady, are you jesting ? " 
 
 " Well, I may be — quite unintentional on my part, though ; 
 if it sounds funny, you're perfectly welcome to laugh at it till 
 you're black in the face. What was it ? " 
 
 "You Judge Lawless's daughter?" said the astonished 
 captain. 
 
 " Nothing is certain in this uncertain world, Captain Regi- 
 nald. I've always labored under that impression ; if you 
 know anything to the contrary, I am quite willing to be con- 
 vinced." 
 
 " Young lady, I wish you would be serious for one mo- 
 ment," said the smuggler, knitting his dark brows. "If you 
 are his daughter, there has been a terrible mistake here. 
 Did not Rozzel Garnet live at Heath Hill for some years as 
 the tutor of Miss Lawless } " 
 
 " Yes, sir, and he was sent about his business for wishing 
 to teach her some things not laid down in the books." 
 
 " Then he would know you at once. Oh I it's impossible 
 you can be Miss Lawless." 
 
 " Very well, if it affords you any consolation to think so, 
 you are perfectly welcome to your own opinion. Who am I 
 then ? " 
 
 " You were mistaken for, or rather you ought to be, a 
 young lady, a celebrated beauty who lives in a cottage 
 somewhere on the heath." 
 
 " What 1 Erminie ? " 
 
 " I really do not know the name. Is it possible you are 
 not the one ? " 
 
 " Well no, I rather think not. Though I may not be Pet 
 Lawless ; and as you say I'm not, I won't dispute it — but I 
 most decidedly am not Erminie Germaine." 
 
 " Erminie who ? " cried the outlaw, with a viol' -t start. 
 
 "Germaine. Perhaps you object to that, too." 
 
 " Pardon me ; the name is — " He paused and shaded his 
 fine eyes for a moment with his hand, then looking up, he 
 added : " She was the one who was to be brought here ; if you 
 are really Miss Lawless, then there has been a tremendous 
 mistake." 
 
 " Humph I it seems to me to have been a mistake all 
 
 
 -if 
 
 '■i * 
 
,,^V^^ipiViAf^m,im^a^^*<M^l tMX%m » U^ ^ 
 
 THE OUTI.AW. 
 
 319 
 
 ;;hter of his," 
 
 3 • 
 
 )art, though ; 
 lugh at it till 
 
 e astonished 
 
 !aptain Regi- 
 >ion ; if you 
 ig to be con- 
 
 for one mo- 
 i^s. " If you 
 listake here. 
 )me years as 
 
 i for wishing 
 
 ooks." 
 
 s impossible 
 
 through. I shouldn't wonder the least if it turns out to be 
 some of Master Garnet's handiwork. So they wanted to 
 carry off Erminie ? Now, I'm real glad I was taken, if it 
 had saved Minnie. It appears to have been a pretty piece 
 of business, from beginning to end." 
 
 " I shall put an end to this mystery," said the captain, 
 starting up and going to the door. " Marguerite," he said, 
 lifting the screen, " send Rozzel Garnet here." 
 
 " He has gone," replied the voice of the woman. " He 
 went away the moment you entered the room." 
 
 " Soldf" cried Pet, jumping up, and whirling round like 
 a top in her delight. *' He has taken you all in— made 
 April-fools of every mother's son of you 1 Carried off me, 
 Pet Lawless, for Erminie Germaine I He knew he would be 
 discovered, and now he has fled ; and when you see last 
 night's wind again, you will see him. Oh 1 I declare if it's 
 not the best joke I have heard this month of Sundays 1 " 
 
 And overcome by the (to her) irresistibly ludicrous dis- 
 covery, of how the smugglers had been " sold " by one of 
 themselves. Pet fell back, laughing uproariously. 
 
 Pi 
 
 to think so. 
 Who am I 
 
 jht to be, a 
 1 a cottage 
 
 ble you are 
 
 Y not be Pet 
 jte it—but I 
 
 ' -♦: start. 
 
 1 shaded his 
 
 )king up, he 
 
 here ; if you 
 
 tremendous 
 
 mistake all 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 HOME FROM SEA. 
 
 " The dark-blue jacket that enfolds the sailor's manly breast 
 Bears more of real honor than the star and ermine vest ; 
 The tithe of folly in his head may wake the landsman's mirth, 
 But Nature proudly owns him as her child of sterling worth." 
 
 — Eliza Cook. 
 
 " Clear the track I off we go I whip up old lazybones 
 there, and don't let him crawl on at that snail's pace i 
 That's more like ; now for it, at live knots an hour 1 It's 
 pleasant to see the old familiar faces again, after knocking 
 about in strange ports for half a dozen years — don't you 
 think so, messmate ? " and the speaker, a dashing, hand- 
 some, good-humored-looking young fellow, with the unmis- 
 takable air of a sailor about him, gave his fellow-passenger, 
 an elderly, cross-looking old gentleman, who sat beside 
 
 *-i 
 
^"Wir-w-pUT 
 
 320 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 V 
 
 > 
 
 
 him on the roof of the stage-coach, a confidential dig with 
 his elbow, that nearly pushed him, head-first, out of his 
 
 seat. 
 
 " Lord bless my soul ! young man, there's no necessity for 
 breaking a man's ribs about it— is there?" said the old 
 gentleman, snappishly. " I dare say, it's all very nice, but 
 you needn't dislocate your neighbor's bones about it. Do 
 you belong to this place? " asked the old man, after a short 
 pause, during which his companion had politely apologized 
 for the unnecessary force of the blow in the ribs. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said the young man, with emphasis, " that I 
 do 1 and in all my rambles round the world, I never saw a 
 place I liked better ! No place like home, you know. Hur- 
 rah 1 for good old Judestown 1 " 
 
 " I wonder you go to sea, then," said the old man, crossly ; 
 " you're a fool to do it, getting drowned fifty times a day. 
 I warrant you, you are always on the spree whenever you 
 get on shore, like the rest of them, spending all your money 
 instead of putting it in the savings bank, as you ought to do, 
 as a provision for your old age." 
 
 " Me get on the spree ? " said the sailor, drawing himself 
 up ; " no, sir-ee. All my money goes to provide bread and 
 molasses for my wife and family." 
 
 " Why, bless my soul and body 1 " exclaimed the old 
 gentleman, surveying his young companion through his 
 spectacles in utter surprise, " you're surely not married yet, 
 youngster." 
 
 " Yes, I regret to say I am," said the youngster in question 
 in a passive tone, " and got a large family with large ap- 
 petites to support. It's melancholy to reflect upon, but it's 
 true. My wife keeps a billiard-saloon, and the children keep 
 apple-stands at the corner of the streets, exc pt my oldest 
 daughter, and she's at service. Fine family, sir ! Halloa 1 
 here we are, at the Judestown House, and there's my old 
 friend, Mrs. Gudge." 
 
 «' Humph 1 " grunted the old gentleman, doubtfully ; 
 " where are you from last, young man ? " 
 
 " Liverpool— ship ' Sea Nymph ;' master, Burleigh ; first 
 mate, Randolph Lawless, Esq., late of Heath Hill. Had 
 some distinguished passengers out 
 young man, tightening his belt. 
 
 ;4.u 
 
 Willi 
 
 US, LUU, 
 
 .: J 
 
 
»>.»>.ii.>»*»»Mti« ii . w» i,i ii «M<* HW*»> ^ i| W |||||i l» i>ai#>r,. 
 
 HOME FROM SEA. 
 
 321 
 
 ential dig with 
 at, out of his 
 
 necessity for 
 ' said the old 
 
 very nice, but 
 about it. Do 
 
 1, after a short 
 
 ;ely apologized 
 
 bs. 
 
 Dhasis, " that I 
 I never saw a 
 
 i know. Hur- 
 
 1 man, crossly ; 
 ;y times a day. 
 ; whenever you 
 all your money 
 Du ought to do, 
 
 rawing himself 
 vide bread and 
 
 limed the old 
 n through his 
 ot married yet, 
 
 ster in question 
 ■ with large ap- 
 t upon, but it's 
 e children keep 
 c pt my oldest 
 , sir 1 Halloa ! 
 there's my old 
 
 in, doubtfully ; 
 
 Burleigh ; first 
 ith Hill. Had 
 
 !.«_ M 
 
 said the 
 
 ** Humph ! " again grunted the old man. " Who were 
 they, may I ask ? " 
 
 " Certainly, y >u may ask, and I have great pleasure in 
 answering, the Earl and Countess De Courcy, and their 
 daughter, Lady Rita — perhaps you're acquainted with them 
 already," said the young man, with a wicked look in his 
 knowing eyes. 
 
 "No, sir, I'm not," snapped the old man, "and, what's 
 more, I don't want to be, either, whether you believe it or 
 not." 
 
 " Well, it's their loss then ; that's all I have to say about 
 it. Here we are at anchor, at last. Halloa, Mrs. Gudge ! 
 don't you know me ? " exclaimed the young man, springing 
 lightly from his lofty perch and alighting like a cat on his 
 feet. 
 
 " Why, Master Ranty I is this yourself ? " cried Mrs. 
 Gudge, clasping her fat hands and going off into a transport 
 of delight, wonderful to behold. " Dearie me 1 how glad I 
 am 1 how tall you are, and how brown, and handsomer than 
 ever, I declare I " 
 
 Our old friend, Ranty, laughed, and dashed back his sun- 
 browned locks off his happy, thoughtless face, as he an- 
 swered : 
 
 " I believe you, Mrs. Gudge ; so handsome, in fact, that 
 they wanted to take away the Apollo Belvidere — a gentle- 
 man you are not acquainted with, Mrs. Gudge — and put me 
 in his place. My modesty, of which I have at least the full 
 of a tar-bucket, would not permit me to listen to such a pro- 
 posal a moment. And now, my dear madam, how are all 
 my friends at Heath Hill and Old Barrens .? " 
 
 " First-rate 1 " replied Mrs. Gudge ; "the judge was here, 
 not ten minutes ago, with that big, rough fellow, with all the 
 hair about his face ; Black Bart they call him." 
 
 " One of those notorious smugglers 1 whew I I hope my 
 excellent father is not taking to contraband courses in his 
 latter days. What, in the name of Amphitrite, could he 
 want of Black Bart ? " 
 
 "Well, he said he wanted information about the smug- 
 glers, and he sent my old man to look for Bart." 
 
 " Hum.ph ! Set a fox tn catch a fox ! I wonder how he 
 succeeded. Seen our Pet, lately ? " 
 
l^UtWt-Wm — rcTT 
 
 322 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 JM 
 
 li 
 
 " No, not since one day she dressed herself in my Bobby's 
 clothes, and drove young Mr. Germaine and Miss Erminie 
 over to the cottage," said Mrs. Gudge, laughing. 
 
 " Dressed herself in Bob's clothes 1 what the dickens did 
 she do that for ? " 
 
 " For fun, she said ; none of us knev/ them that day ex- 
 cept her, and she drove them over without their ever finding 
 her out. Miss Pet always is doing something out of the way, 
 you know, Master Ranty." 
 
 " And how is Mr. Germaine and Miss Erminie, Mrs. 
 Gudge ? " 
 
 " Very well, indeed ! Lor' bless me ! you would hardly 
 know Mr. Ray ; he's shot up like a Maypole, and got one of 
 them nasty mustarches onto his upper lip. Of all the ugly 
 things they beats all. It actually makes my flesh creep to 
 see them eating or drinking with them on. I'm glad you 
 don't wear one. Master Ranty, for of all the disgraceful 
 things — " Mrs. Gudge paused, and rolled her eyes as in 
 intense disgust, by way of filling up the hiatus. 
 
 " It's no merit of mine, I am afraid," said Ranty, passing 
 his hand over his lip; " I've been mowing away for the last 
 three years ; but owing to some mysterious dispensation of 
 Providence, or the barrenness of the soil, or some other incru- 
 table reason, nothing can be induced to sprout. I feel myself 
 put upon by Fate, I do so, Mrs. Gudge I There's Ray, now 
 with whiskers, flourishing, no doubt, like a green bay tree ; 
 and here am I, a young man twice as deserving, with a face as 
 smooth as a sheet of foolscap. It's a darned shame, and I 
 won't put up with it, hanged if I dol Mrs. Gudge, let me 
 have a horse and wagon, or a superannuated gander, or a go- 
 cart, or some other quadruped to take me home. Since I 
 must tear myself away, I may as well do it first as last." 
 
 Mrs. Gudge opened the door, and called to Bobby to bring 
 round a horse ; and soon after that hopeful made his ap- 
 pearance, leading the animal by the bridle. Ranty waved a 
 good-by to Mrs. Gudge, flung a handful of coppers to her 
 son, jumped into the saddle, and was off, as Bob Gudge 
 afterward expressed it " like Old Nick in a gale of wind." 
 
 Ranty's eyes lit up with pleasure as the old, familiar scenes 
 came once more in view. There was the forest road, brin^"- 
 ing back the memory of the dangerous, practical joke they 
 
: ti «. ,B^.Mt.t i | i-«mrtt«| ,t«^ tKi *>^ 4»y 
 
 J. 
 
 n my Bobby's 
 Miss Erminie 
 
 g- 
 
 le dickens did 
 
 1 that day ex- 
 ir ever finding 
 Dut of the way, 
 
 Erminie, Mrs. 
 
 would hardly 
 ind got one of 
 Of all the ugly 
 flesh creep to 
 I'm glad you 
 he disgraceful 
 ler eyes as in 
 s. 
 
 R.anty, passing 
 'ay for the last 
 ispensation of 
 tne other incru- 
 I feel myself 
 ;re's Ray, now 
 een bay tree ; 
 , with a face as 
 I shame, and I 
 Gudge, let me 
 ander, or a go- 
 ome. Since I 
 ;t as last." 
 Bobby to bring 
 1 made his ap- 
 Ranty waved a 
 coppers to her 
 is Bob Gudge 
 lie of wind." 
 familiar scenes 
 ^st road, hrinfy- 
 ;ical joke they 
 
 HOME FROM SEA. 
 
 32: 
 
 had played on Pet. There was Dismal Hollow, silent, grim 
 gloomy, and lonely — a fit habitation for Miss Priscilla Toosy- 
 pegs. There was the Barrens ; there was the little, white, 
 vineshaded cottage ; and yonder in the distance, dazzling in 
 its spotless paint, was the staring, garish White Squall. 
 There, too, was the brown-scorched road leading through the 
 purple bloom of the heath to his own ancestral home of 
 Heath Hill. 
 
 " Now to give them a surprise," said Ranty, as he alighted 
 at the little cottage-gate and approached the door ; " wonder 
 if Minnie will know me; I hope she is in." 
 
 The parlor-door lay wide open, and he looked in unob- 
 served. It was the day on which Judge Lawless had pro- 
 posed, a few hours later ; and Erminie, whose gentle nature 
 had not quite recovered from the wound his threats and 
 harsh words had given her, sat alone with the evening shadows 
 falling around her— her head resting on her hand, and her 
 large, soft blue eyes dark with unshed tears. Pet had just de- 
 parted ; and the quietness and reaction following the luster 
 of her exciting presence made the silence and loneliness 
 more dreary still. 
 
 Ranty's first impulse had been to rush in, catch her in his 
 arms, and give her a rousing salute ; but the moment he saw 
 her sweet, pale face and drooping figure,, a feeling more 
 nearly approaching to timidity than anything our impudent 
 young sailor had ever felt before, held him back. Somehow 
 he had expected to see a slender, delicate little girl, such as 
 he had last beheld her ; but she had passed away forever, 
 and here in her place sat a tall, elegant girl, with a face as 
 lovely as the hazel-haired Madonna's that had smiled upon him 
 in the dim, old cathedral-aisles of glorious Italy. He took one 
 step forward ; she lifted her head with a startled look ; her 
 eyes met his, and she started impetuously to her feet. 
 
 " Erminie ! " 
 
 " Ranty I Oh, Ranty 1 I am so glad 1 " 
 
 She caught his hand in bgth hers, while her face, a mo- 
 ment before so pale, flushed with delight, and the violet eyes 
 were fairly radiant with joy. 
 
 " Oh, Ranty, I am so glad I When did you come ? " 
 
 ■' Got to Baltimore day before yesterday. I suppose you 
 hardly expected to see me to-night, Erminie ? " 
 
-ft 
 
 Ml. MM. IWJJ'T 
 
 N^ 
 
 324 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 «' No, indeed 1 And it is the most delightful surprise 1 " 
 exclaimed Erminie, her beautiful face irradiated with joy, 
 and forgetting she was no longer speaking to the boy Ranty. 
 But when she caught his eyes fixed upon her with a look the 
 boy had never worn, the flush rose painfully even to her very 
 forehead. She dropped his hand, while her eyes fell, and 
 she said, in a less assured tone : 
 
 " Sit down ; you must be tired after your journey. I am 
 very sorry Ray is not at home to meet you." 
 
 •' Never mind ; I will see him to-morrow. And all my 
 friends have been quite well since I left, Erminie ? '* 
 
 " Yes, all. If you had arrived ten minutes sooner, you 
 would have seen Pet. She has just gone." 
 
 " Well, I will shortly have that pleasure. How tall you 
 have grown, and how you have changed since I saw you last, 
 Erminie 1 " 
 
 He meant more the emphatic but undefinable change from 
 childhood to womanhood, than that of her looks. Perhaps 
 Erminie understood him, for she said, laughing : 
 
 " Not for the worse, I hope. You, too, have changed, 
 Master Ranty." 
 
 " Well, not much, I think ; 1 have grown five or six feet 
 taller, and my complexion has become a genteel brown; 
 but, otherwise, I am the same Ranty Lawless I went 
 
 away." 
 
 " A little quieter, I should hope, for the peace and well- 
 being of the community at large. Do you still retain the 
 high opinion you had of yourself before you left ? " 
 
 " Yes, slightly increased," said Ranty, who had now re- 
 covered all his customary nonchalance of manner. " There 
 was a little lady out with us from England whose precious 
 life I had the pleasure of saving ; and with whose raven eyes 
 and coal-black hair I would have fallen in love, but for the 
 thought of a dear little blue-eyed fairy at home, who promised 
 to wait for me until I could come back. Do you remember 
 that promise, Erminie ? " 
 
 " I only remember you were very absurd," said Erminie, 
 laughing and blushing. " Don't talk nonsense ; but tell me 
 how you were so fortunate as to save the lady's life ? " 
 
 a Well one v/indy evening, a little before dark, this little 
 Lady Rita, who by the way, though the haughtiest, sauciest 
 
»u><«*iniiAWM» Ttin ' 
 
 tful surprise 1 " 
 ated with joy, 
 the boy Ranty. 
 with a look the 
 ven to her very 
 - eyes fell, and 
 
 journey. I am 
 
 . And all my 
 
 inie ? » 
 
 tes sooner, you 
 
 How tall you 
 ; I saw you last, 
 
 )le change from 
 Doks. Perhaps 
 ng: 
 have changed, 
 
 five or six feet 
 genteel brown ; 
 .awless I went 
 
 peace and well- 
 i still retain the 
 left ? " 
 
 10 had now re- 
 inner. " There 
 whose precious 
 hose raven eyes 
 love, but for the 
 e, who promised 
 ) you remember 
 
 HOME FROM SEA. 
 
 325 
 
 ," said Erminie, 
 ise ; but tell me 
 ly's life ? " 
 ; dark, this little 
 ightiest, sauciest 
 
 young damsel I ever encountered, was quite courageous, 
 came upon deck, and insisted on remaining there, in 
 spite of all expostulations to the contrary. She was leaning 
 over the side, and I was standing near, watching her, 
 for want of something better to do, when the vessel gave a 
 sudden lurch round. I heard a scream, and beheld the 
 place where her little ladyship had lately stood vacant. I 
 caught sight of her the next moment struggling in the waves ; 
 and, in a twinkling, I was in after her. Lady Rita, who had 
 hitherto looked down upon me and all the rest of us with 
 sublimest hauteur and vestal prudery, made not the slightest 
 objection to be caught in my arms now ; on the contrary, 
 she held on with an energy that nearly strangled me. A 
 boat was lowered, and we were fished up, clinging to each 
 other, as if bound to hold on to the last gasp. Lady Rita, 
 according to the incomprehensible custom of the female sex 
 in general, fainted stone dead the moment she found herself 
 in safety. It's interesting to faint, and I was looking round 
 for a nice place to follow her example ; but upon second 
 thoughts I concluded I wouldn't. There were no nice young 
 ladies round who understood my case ; and to be tickled 
 with burnt feathers, and be drenched with cold water by a 
 lot of sailors, was not to be thought of. Lady Rita was 
 carried to the cabin ; and a great fuss and commotion reigned 
 there for the next two or three hours, while I was taking life 
 easy, smoking a cigar on deck. Then the earl, her ' parient,' 
 made his appearance, and completely deluged me with grati- 
 tude and thanks, which I stood like a hero, until the countess 
 also came. Her tears and protestations of everlasting grati- 
 tude were a little too much, and I fled. I blush to say it, 
 but I beat an inglorious retreat, for thanks are things one 
 easily gets a surfeit of." 
 
 " Why, Ranty, you have sailed in high company lately," 
 said Erminie; '-earl and countess — dear me! I begin to 
 feel quite an awe of you." 
 
 "So you ought; and I hope you'll continue to cherish the 
 feeling. But, Erminie, do you know — though, as you have 
 never seen him, it's likely you don't — but you have the most 
 wonderful resemblance to Lord De Courcy I ever beheld in 
 my life." 
 
 " Lord De Courcy 1 " exclaimed Erminie, growing pale as 
 
326 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 n 
 
 she remembered Ketura's fearful denunciations against all 
 who bore that name. 
 
 •'Yes, Lord and Lady De Courcy are at present in 
 Washington City. The earl says he always felt a desire to 
 visit this country; but, hitherto, circumstances prevented 
 him. The countess is a lovely woman — one of the most 
 beautiful, I think, I ever saw ; and as good as she is beauti- 
 ful, every one says." 
 
 " I have heard of her before," said Erminie, in a low, sub- 
 dued tone. " Mr. Toosypegs saw her many years ago, when 
 he was in England. At least, I imagine it was her ; for she 
 was the wife of the old earl's son, and Mr. Toosypegs says 
 that since the death of his father he has been Lord De 
 Courcy." 
 
 •' Yes, so he has," said Ranty ; " he was then Lord 
 Villiers ; but really, Minnie, your likeness to him is quite 
 wonderful." 
 
 "Well, it is not unusual for strangers to resemble one 
 another ; though I suppose I ought to feel flattered by look- 
 ing in the remotest degree like one so great and distinguished. 
 How much I should like to see them both I " said Erminie, 
 musingly. " I have heard so much about them from Mr. 
 Toosypegs, and — another, that my curiosity is quite excited. 
 And their daught- r — this Lady Rita — was that what you 
 called her ? Ey the way, Ranty, I never heard they had a 
 daughter." 
 
 " Yes, they had two ; the oldest died, I believe, when a 
 child; and Lady Rita — well, some say she is not their 
 daughter, but an adopted child. I don't know how that may 
 be ; though, certain it is, she does not look like either of 
 them — not half so much as you do, Erminie. Both of them 
 have very fair complexions, while Lady Rita is as dark as a 
 Creole. The countess, to be sure, has dark hair and eyes ; 
 but still her haughty little daughter does not resemble her 
 in the least." 
 
 " Do they remain here long ? " said Erminie, half mus- 
 ingly. " Oh, Ranty, how much I should like to see them 1 " 
 
 " Well, perhaps you may ; in the overflowing of their gra- 
 titude, they made me promise to visit them enfamille, while 
 they remained ; and if you'll only consent to keep your 
 promise, and become Mrs. Lawless, why, you can come with 
 
" "*W«:I ^| B1> W*>^ 
 
 ns against all 
 
 at present in 
 felt a desire to 
 ices prevented 
 e of the most 
 5 she is beauti- 
 
 , in a low, sub- 
 rears ago, when 
 xs her ; for she 
 roosypegs says 
 )een Lord De 
 
 HOME FROM SEA. 
 
 337 
 
 'as then 
 o him is 
 
 Lord 
 quite 
 
 resemble one 
 ittered by look- 
 1 distinguished. 
 " said Erminie, 
 them from Mr. 
 s quite excited, 
 that what you 
 ard they had a 
 
 believe, when a 
 e is not their 
 w how that may 
 
 like either of 
 Both of them 
 
 is as dark as a 
 hair and eyes; 
 )t resenible her 
 
 linie, half mus- 
 ! to see them I " 
 ng of their gra- 
 '.nfamilk, while 
 to keep your 
 I can come with 
 
 me, and I know they will be delighted to welcome my wife." 
 
 " Nonsense, Ranty," said Erminie, a little impatiently, 
 " how absurd you are ! I am not to be accountable for your 
 silly talk when we parted, I hope ? " 
 
 " Well, all I have to say about it is, that there will be a 
 case of ' breach of promise ' up before the court one of these 
 days, if you attempt to back out. Are you prepared to pay 
 me five or six thou' and dollars damages, as a plaster for my 
 wounded feelings, may I ask, Miss Germaine ? " 
 
 " As if your affections were worth one-tenth that sum, Mr. 
 Lawless 1 Now, do be sensible, if you can, and tell me how 
 long you are going to stay home." 
 
 " As to being sensible. Miss Germaine, I flatter myself I 
 am that now ; and my stay, or departure, must depend in a 
 great measure on you," 
 
 " Now, Ranty, I shall get angry if you don't stop being 
 so nonsensical I " said Erminie, flushing slightly. *' I did 
 hope going to sea would have put a little sense into your 
 head ; but I perceive it has had quite a contrary effect. I 
 wish you could see Ray. These six years have made him 
 as grave and thoughtful as a judge. I expect he will be 
 quite famous in his profession yet." 
 
 " Well, I wish him joy of it," said Ranty. " But how any 
 man can reconcile it to his conscience to be a lawyer, while 
 honest, straight-forward piracy is flourishing in the South 
 Seas, and old-fashioned, upright brigands infest the Pyrenees, 
 is beyond my comprehension I However, every one to their 
 taste; and, luckily, this is a free country. Good-by, now, 
 Miss Germaine. Fate and the approach of night compels 
 me to be off ; but you may look out for me an hour or so 
 before day-dawn to-morrow." 
 
 And Ranty got up, shook hands with Erminie, mounted 
 his horse, and rode off. 
 
 " Now Ranty Lawless," said that gentleman to himself, 
 when fairly on the road, " it's my private belief and impres- 
 sion that you are falling in love, young man I What a sweet, 
 artless, lovely face the girl has got, any way I And those 
 eyes — those wistful, tender, violet eyes — how they do go 
 through a fellow's vest-pattern, though 1 Ranty, my son, 
 take care ! Have you escaped the witchery of dark-eycd 
 Spanish donas ; the melting glances of Italia 's raven-haired 
 
 m 
 
•J'"* ' Ui • MS 
 
 328 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ff ^ 
 
 ii- 
 
 daughters; the enchantment of the little knobby-footed, 
 suffron-skinncd ladies of the Celestial Empiie ; the be- 
 devilment of the free-and-easy niesdatnes of free-and-easy 
 France, to be hooked the moment you land, by the blue eyes, 
 golden hair, pearly skin, and pink cheeks of this little cot- 
 tage-girl, Erniinie ? What will the governor say, I want to 
 know ? Well, it's time enough to think of that yet. No use 
 worrying till the time comes. ' Care killed a cat,' they say ; 
 so, lest I should share in that unfortunate quadruped's fatt, 
 I shall take things easy. There's the White Squall. I think 
 I shall go over and see my worthy uncle, the admiral." 
 
 So saying, Ranty rode rapidly in <" le direction of the flar- 
 ing white mansion, and entered, . ithout ceremony. The 
 admiral, as usual, was alone in the parlor, and gave his 
 nephew a boisterous welcome, shaking his hand as if he had 
 hold of the handle of a pump, until Ranty winced and jerked 
 it away. Then, having replied to the avalanche of questions 
 with which the ancient marin»„r overwhelmed him, Ranty 
 rose, and rode homeward, to surprise the household there. 
 
 Surprise the household he did — at least all of them to be 
 found — which were only the servants. The judge was gone, 
 and so was Pet. 
 
 " Why, Aunt Deb, Pet started for home nearly an hour 
 ago," said Ranty, somewhat alarmed. " What can have be- 
 come of her ? " 
 
 " Lors 1 Mars'r Ranty, how de debbil I know ? " said 
 Aunt Deb, who was given to profanity now and then. " Dar 
 ain't nebber no tellin' whar dat ar little limb pokes herself. 
 She might be at dem old Bar'ns, or she might be at Dismal 
 Holler, or she might '^e gone to old Harry — " 
 
 " Old Harry 1 " interrupted Ranty, angrily. " What do you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " Why, ole Mars'r Harry Hateful ; dar ain't no tellin' whar 
 she is I " 
 
 " Well, that's true enough. I wish she were here, how- 
 ever. Perhaps she won't be back to-night," said Ranty, 
 walking up and down the room, and whistling a sea air. 
 
 Aunt Deb bustled out to prepare supper, to which meal 
 our young sailor sat down alone, wondering, alternately, 
 where Pet could be, and thinking of the witching, violet eyes 
 of Erminie. Then, when it was over, he took up a book, to 
 
««*kmnMMi>HM< 
 
 7. 
 
 nobby-footed, 
 jiie ; the be- 
 free-and-easy 
 the blue eyes, 
 this little cct- 
 say, I want to 
 ; yet. No use 
 cat,' they say ; 
 druped's fatt , 
 quail. I think 
 dmiral." 
 on of the flar- 
 ■eniony. The 
 and gave his 
 d as if he had 
 ed and jerked 
 e of questions 
 i him, Ranty 
 isehold there, 
 of them to be 
 Jge was gone, 
 
 arly an hour 
 can have be- 
 
 Icnow ? " said 
 
 1 then. " Dar 
 
 pokes herself. 
 
 be at Dismal 
 
 ' What do you 
 
 10 tellin' whar 
 
 ;re here, how- 
 ' said Ranty, 
 1 sea air. 
 D which meal 
 , alternately, 
 g, violet eyes 
 up a book, to 
 
 HOME FROM SEA. 
 
 329 
 
 beguile time, hoping still to see Pet ; but when eleven o'clock 
 struck, h? gave up the idea of seeing her that night, and re- 
 tired to bed, to dream of Erminie. 
 
 As he had partaken of the evening meal alone the evening 
 before, so was he forced to sit so/o at breakfast. Neither 
 Pet nor the judge had returned, nor were any tidings to be 
 obtained of their whereabouts ; and, after breakfast, Ranty 
 immediately rode over to the Barrens. 
 
 In the cottage he found Ray, who hau just returned, who 
 was receiving an account of Ranty's arrival from the lips of 
 Erminie, when the entrance oi that young gentleman himself 
 cut it short. Warm ai 1 hearty was the greeting between 
 the two friends ; for never brothers loved each other better 
 than did they. 
 
 " I suppose Pet was in perfect ecstasies of delight at your 
 unexpected return," said Erminie, taking her work and sit- 
 ting down on her low rocking-chair by the window. 
 
 " Pet 1 why the little gadabout never was at home at all 
 last night; and where the deuce to find her, I don't know." 
 
 " Not at home ! " said Erminie, in surprise. " Why, where 
 can she be, then ? " 
 
 " Well, Miss Germaine, that is just what I would feel very 
 much obliged to you to tell me. It's very like looking for a 
 needle in a hay-stack, I'm inclined to think, to go hunting 
 for her. The best way, is to take things easy, and let her 
 come home when she likes." 
 
 " Why, it is most singular," said Erminie. " I know she 
 started for home, and took the road leading to Heath Hill. 
 Perhap. she changed her mind, and went to the White 
 Squall." 
 
 " No ; that she didn't," said Ranty. " I was there last 
 night after leaving here. The girl's bewitched ; and 
 perhaps she rode off on some Quixotic expedition by 
 herself," 
 
 *" She was on foot," said Erminie, now really growing 
 alarmed. " Starlight was lame or something ; so she started 
 to walk home. Oh, Ranty I I am afraid that something 
 has happened to her," she cried, looking up in terror. 
 
 " Oh, pooh, Ermie 1 What could happen to her between 
 this and Heath Hill ? Nonsense i " said Ranty, beginning 
 to look uneasy. 
 
"WBBPnfT 
 
 Txyrr- 
 
 330 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'vS VOW. 
 
 M ' 
 
 " What hour did she leave here, Minnie? "asked Ray, his 
 dark face paling slightly at the thought of danger to her. 
 
 " It was nearly dark, and she had to walk all alone over 
 that lonesome heath. Oh, Ray 1 something must hav(; 
 happened to her I " cried Erminie, growing white with vague 
 alarm. 
 
 " Why, what in Heaven's name could have happened 
 to her?" asked Ranty, catching the infection of Erminie's 
 fears. " No one has ever been molested on the heath." 
 
 " Those lawless smugglers are continually prowling around 
 now ; and it is very unsafe for a young girl to venture in 
 
 Good heavens I 
 cried Ray start- 
 
 such a lonely place, unprotected, after night, 
 if she should have fallen into their hands 
 ing up, in consternation. 
 
 " Oh, Ray 1 I hope not. Oh, Ray I do you really think 
 she has? " exclaimed Erminie, clasping her hands in mortal 
 terror. 
 
 " There is no telling. Some of that lawless gang are con- 
 tinually prowling about the woods, and shore, and heath, and 
 if they saw Pet — Miss Lawless," he added, checking himself , 
 and biting his lip — " they would made her a prisoner at once. 
 There is no deed of violence too dark or dreadful for them 
 to do. They are something worse than smugglers, I more 
 than suspect. This smuggling, I fancy, serves but as a 
 cloak for the far worse crime of piracy. I have heard that 
 their leader — Captain Reginald, they call him — is one of the 
 most reckless and daring desperadoes that ever made general 
 war under the black flag ; and those of his crew that I have 
 seen roving about here, look to be cut-throats, savage enough 
 for anything, from wholesale murder downward. Great 
 Heaven I if Petronilla should have fallen into their hands 1 " 
 said Ray, pacing up and down in much agitation. 
 
 '* But it cannot be, Ray ; it is impossible, absurd, I tell 
 you. Why, man, what could these buccaneers possibly want 
 with Pet ? A nice prize she would be for any one to take in 
 tow 1 " said Ranty, getting alarmed in spite of himself. 
 
 ** They might take her in the hope of obtaining a large 
 ransom for her release, or they might — oh I the thought is 
 too horrible to contemplate I * exclaimed Ray, almost fiercely. 
 " Ranty, why are we losing time here, when your sister may 
 be in such danger ? This is no time for idle talking. About I 
 
 ? 
 
)W. 
 
 ' asked Ray, his 
 nger to her. 
 k all alone over 
 ng must have 
 hite with vague 
 
 lave happened 
 on of Enninie's 
 n the heath." 
 jrowling around 
 rl to venture in 
 Good heavens I 
 cried Ray start- 
 
 ou really think 
 lands in mortal 
 
 s gang are con- 
 , and heath, and 
 lecking himself, 
 risoner at once, 
 eadful for them 
 igglers, I more 
 2rves but as a 
 lave heard that 
 I — is one of the 
 :r made general 
 ew that I have 
 savage enough 
 'nward. Great 
 their hands I " 
 tion. 
 
 , absurd, I tell 
 s possibly want 
 y one to take in 
 [ himself. 
 )taining a large 
 the thought is 
 almost fiercelv. 
 ^our sister may 
 iking. About 1 
 
 HOME FROM SEA. 
 
 331 
 
 mount I and off in search of her I I will instantly follow ! » 
 " Well but wait a minute, Ray, before starting on this 
 wild-goose chase," said Ranty. " How do we know that she 
 is not safely housed in Dismal Hollow, or somewhere m 
 Judestown, all this time, while we are raving about pirates 
 
 and abductors ? " ..... 
 
 » Oh, she is not 1 she is not ! " cried Erminie, wringing her 
 hands. ' " She started for Heath Hill, and had no intention 
 of going anywhere else. Wild and daring as she is, she 
 would not venture to walk alone through the forest after 
 night. Oh, holy saints 1 what can have become of her ? " 
 
 •« We are losing time talking," said Ray, whose face was 
 now perfectly colorless with contending emotions. " Mount, 
 Ranty, and ride back to Heath Hill and the White 
 Squall, and see if she has returned to either place since you 
 left. I will go to Dismal Hollow and Judestown, and search 
 for her there. If she is to be found in neither of these 
 places, then it must be too true that she has fallen in^o the 
 hands of the smugglers." 
 
 Ranty, alarmed, but still incredulous, sprung on his horse 
 and galloped rapidly in the direction of the White Squall, 
 while Ray, at an equally rapid and excited pace, took the 
 opposite road leading to Dismal Hollow. And Erminie, 
 white with vague, nameless, but terrible apprehension, re- 
 mained behind, to pace up and down the floor, wring her 
 hands and strain her eyes in anxious watching for their return. 
 Ranty was the first to retu-u, with the alarming tu'ings 
 that nothing had been heard her at either place since. 
 Nearly wild with terror now, . iiTiinie continued her excited 
 pace up and down the room, cryinj^j bitterly. 
 
 "Oh ' ^ Id not have let her go 1 If ould not have 
 
 let ht i I < aight to have kept her all night. I knew it was 
 dangerous crossing the heath, and I should not have let her 
 attempt it alone. Oh, if Ray would only come I " 
 
 But another long, se mingly interminable hour passed be- 
 fore Ray made his appearance, and then he came dashing up, 
 pale, wild and excited. 
 
 His eyes met Ranty's as he entered. That glance told all 
 
 = — both had failed. _ 
 
 <' Vou have not found her ? ■'' said Kanty, hurriedly. _ 
 
 « No ; but I heard enough to confirm my worst suspicions. 
 
332 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 it' 
 
 "Late yesterday afternoon, Orlando Toosypegs says he saw one 
 of the gang, a fellow called Black Bart, accompanied by some 
 one else, he could not discern who, but doubtless another of 
 the outlaws, take the forest-road leading this way. Pet has 
 been waylaid and entrapped by them, there can be no doubt ; 
 for neither of them have been seen since." 
 
 Erminie dropped, like one suddenly stricken, into a seat, 
 and hid her face in her hands. Brother and lover looked 
 in each other's pale faces with an unspoken : " What next ? " 
 
 ( 
 
 »i ■ 
 
 •)i .i • 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 
 
 " Ah me ! 
 
 The world is full of meetings such as this." 
 
 —Willis. 
 
 4 IL 
 
 
 i I; 
 
 ** What next ? " 
 
 It was Ranty who spoke in a deep, excited voice. Ray, 
 white and stone-like, stood with one arm resting on the 
 mantel, his face shaded by his heavy, falling hair, his deep 
 breathing painfully breaking the silence. Ah ! in that mo- 
 ment how the gossamer wall of his sophistry was swept away I 
 He had flattered himself his resolution was strong enough to 
 keep him from loving Pet ; but now, now that she was gone, 
 and perhaps forever, the truth stood glaring out in all its 
 vividness, and he felt that he loved her with his whole heart 
 and soul, as only a strong, fervid, passionate nature like his 
 could love. His strong chest heaved with an emotion too 
 deep and intense for words ; and as he thought of her, alone 
 and unprotected, in the power of those ruthless men, his 
 very respiration stopped, unttil it became painful to listen for 
 its return. Ranty's question roused him ; and the necessity 
 for immediate action restored, in some measure, his 
 customary calmness and clear-headed energy. 
 
 " We ought instantly engage the services of the Judestown 
 police, and begin a vigorous search, I think," said Ranty. 
 
 '' Search 1 Have not the police and the revenue officers 
 searched for this infernal smugglers' den for the last six 
 
i-»".,««^»**«w%j|»Ea4ijtv»jai^}»..«i» 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 
 
 333 
 
 s he saw one 
 ied by some 
 s another of 
 iy. Pet has 
 e no doubt ; 
 
 into a seat, 
 )ver looked 
 /hat next ? " 
 
 :llis. 
 
 oice. Ray, 
 sting on the 
 ir, his deep 
 in that mo- 
 wept away I 
 J enough to 
 e was gone, 
 Jt in all its 
 whole heart 
 ure like his 
 amotion too 
 E her, alone 
 is men, his 
 to listen for 
 le necessity 
 easure, his 
 
 Judestown 
 d Ranty. 
 nue officers 
 he last six 
 
 months without ceasing ? and yet they were as near finding 
 it the first day as they are now." 
 
 - Then what is to be done?" said Ranty. " We must 
 try some means to find her, that is certam. Poor Pet 1 
 Oh 1 I always had a sort of presentiment that mad girl 
 would get herself into some scrape of that kind, sooner 
 or later. Hang the villains 1 I would like to swing everyone 
 of them to the yard-arm myself." , , ,„ 
 
 " Ought you not to send word to your father ?" suggested 
 Erminie whose face was perfectly colorless with fear for 
 
 Pet. 
 
 " I suppose I ought ; but where am 1 to find him ? He has 
 gone as well as Pet, and no one seems to know in what direc- 
 tion 'he may be found. The smugglers can't surely have 
 
 taken him, too." ,- r -. 
 
 " Though I know it will be fruitless, I see nothing for it 
 but to follow your advice, and inform the Judestown author- 
 ities. The shore in every direction must be searched ; for 
 if heaven and earth has to be roused, we must find your 
 sister 1 " exclaimed Ray. 
 
 " What if they have taken her off to sea ? " suggested 
 
 Ranty. .,, .j 
 
 Ray started violently for a moment, at the terrible idea ; 
 the next, a contrary conviction settled in his mind and he 
 
 said : ... 
 
 '• I hardly think so ; they would not be so precipitate. 
 At all events, by commencing a thorough search immedi- 
 ately we may discover some clue to her whereabouts. We 
 had best return immediately to Judestown, and enlist all we 
 can in the search." 
 
 " W^e will have no difficulty in finding volunteers for the 
 hunt," said Ranty. " Pet was always an immense favorite 
 with every one, and the whole town, 1 believe, would rise in 
 a body to look for her, did we wish it. I would not give 
 much for Black Bart's life if he attempts to show himself to 
 the mob after they hear this." 
 
 So saying, the two passed out, mounted their horses, and 
 set off for Judestown. 
 
 If that morning had seemed long to Pet in her prison, 
 doubly long did it appear to Erminie, who, too uneasy and 
 restless either to sit still or work, paced up and down the 
 
 ii'i 
 
 i'1 
 
334 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 i: 
 
 room, or passed in and out of the cottage, straining her eyes 
 to catch a glimpse of the first who would come with news of 
 Pet. But the morning passed and no one came ; and sick 
 weary and worn out with anxiety and disappointment, she 
 sunk down on a seat, and hid her face in her hands in a 
 passionate burst of tears, 
 
 A heavy, plodding step coming up the graveled walk in 
 front of the cottage roused her, at last. She sprung to her 
 feet, and stood with cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes dilated, 
 and bosom heaving, with eager expectation. 
 
 But it was only the admiral, who came stumping in, look- 
 ing more completely mystified and bewildered than any one 
 had ever seen him before in their lives. 
 
 "Helm-a-lee 1 " roared the admiral, thrusting his huge 
 head in the room. " What the dickens has little Firefly run 
 afoul of now, or what's in the wind, anyway } " 
 
 " Oh Admiral Havenful 1 Pet's lost I been carried off by 
 hose dreadful smugglers 1 " said Erminie, sinking back in a 
 fresh burst of passionate grief. 
 
 "Stand from under ! " exclaimed the old sailor, in a slow 
 bewildered tone, every reasoning faculty completely upset by 
 this astounding intelligence. '^ j t- j 
 
 ''Oh, it was my fault 1 it was my fault I " cried Erminie 
 with bitter self-reproach. " I should not have allowed her 
 to go last night at all. Oh, I will never, never forgive my 
 self as long as I live," and another burst of tears followed the 
 declaration. 
 
 "Stand from under! '» reiterated the admiral, still "far 
 wide ; " Firefly carried off by the smugglers I Good Lord 1 
 Keep her round a point or so." 
 
 "They will take her off to sea, and she will never come 
 back again. Oh, Pet," wept Erminie in a wild outburst of 
 grief. 
 
 " Now, Snowdrop, just hold on a minute, will you ? " said 
 the admiral, facing briskly round. " Just stand by till we 
 see how we're coming. The question is, now, where's 
 l^irefiy ? That's the question, ain't it. Snowdrop? " 
 
 Erminie's sobs were her only answer. 
 
 " Just stand by a minute longer, will you ? " said the ad- 
 
 - _ ^ ~ •^.. ),»,., ,,11. jf 
 
 mirai, lifting up the forefinger of his right 
 it at Erminie's head. " Firefly's gone—: 
 
 hand, and aiming 
 sunk — went to the 
 
.,^«js«iis-»'ss(f'; 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 
 
 335 
 
 ing her eyes 
 vith news of 
 ; and sick, 
 itment, she 
 hands in a 
 
 ;led walk in 
 irung to her 
 yes dilated, 
 
 ng in, look- 
 an any one 
 
 his huge 
 Firefly run 
 
 ■ried off by 
 ; back in a 
 
 , in a slow, 
 ly upset by 
 
 i Erminie, 
 lowed her 
 Forgive my 
 )llowed the 
 
 still «far 
 ood Lord 1 
 
 ever come 
 utburst of 
 
 ou ? " said 
 by till we 
 , Where's 
 
 id the ad- 
 id aiming 
 2nt to the 
 
 bottom, and no one left to tell the tale— ain't that it, 
 
 Snowdrop ? " , , 
 
 Erminie, knowing the admiral must be answered, made a 
 
 motion of assent. . , , . . , 
 
 « Now the question is, " went on the admiral, brmgmg the 
 fin'^er down upon the palm of his other hand, and looking 
 lixedly at them ; " the question ; what did Firefly run afoul 
 of ? She must have run afoul of something, mustn't she, 
 
 Snowdrop ? " 
 
 <' Y-e-s, I suppose so," said Erminie. not very clearly un- 
 derstanding the admiral's logic. 
 
 •' And that something she run afoul of is supposed to be 
 smugglers. Port your helm," roared the admiral, on whose 
 somewhat obtuse mind the whole affair was slowly be- 
 ginning to dawn. 
 
 " Oh, Admiral Havenful 1 what do you think they will do 
 with her ? Surely they will not kill her 1 " exclaimed 
 Erminie looking up imploringly. ^^ 
 
 " Just you hold on a minute longer, will you. Snowdrop . ' 
 said the admiral, looking fixedly at the fingers lying on his 
 broad left palm, " and don't you keep putting me out like 
 this. Pet's run afoul of smugglers ; they have boarded her, 
 and she's knocked under and surrendered. Ain't that it, 
 Snowdrop ? " 
 
 " They have carried her off — yes, sir," wept Erminie. 
 
 " They have carried her off— yes, sir," slowly repeated 
 the admiral, in the same tone of intense thoughtfulness, 
 " they have carried her off, but where to ? There it is, Snow- 
 drop, where to ? " 
 
 " Oh, I wish I knew I I wish I knew 1 If we could only 
 discern that, all would be well. Oh, dear, dear Pet 1 " 
 
 " Pet has run afoul of smugglers and been carried off, no- 
 body knows where. Stand from under ! " yelled the admiral, 
 in a perfect paroxysm of grief and consternation, as the 
 whole affair now burst in full force upon him. 
 
 There was no reply from Erminie, who still wept in si- 
 lent grief. 
 
 " Main topsail haul ! " shouted the old man, in mingled 
 rage and grief, as it all dawned clearly upon his mind at last. 
 Pet's gone 1 Been captivated ; been boarded, scuttled, and 
 sunk. Oh, perdition I " yelled the admiral, jumping up and 
 
•wr 
 
 "if ' T * 
 
 336 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN S VOW. 
 
 4' 
 
 stamping up and down, grasping his wig with both hands, in 
 his tempest of grief. " Oh, Firefly, you dear, blessed httle 
 angel I You darned, diabolical little fool I Going and trust- 
 mg your nose into every mischief that ever was invented 
 Oh, you darling, merry little whirligig! You confounded" 
 blamed, young demon I To go and get yourself into such a 
 scrape. Oh, if I only had hold of the villains 1 They ou'^ht 
 to be hung to the yard-arm, every blessed one of them. Oh 
 Pet, my darling I By the body and bones of Paul Jones, yoJ 
 ought to be thrashed within an inch of your life. Oh oh 
 oh, oh, I " roared the admiral, in a final burst of grief, as he 
 flung himself into his chair and began a fierce moppin? of 
 his inflamed face. 
 
 While thus engaged, another step resounded without— a 
 slow lingering, dejected step— and the next moment the 
 pallid features, and mild blue eyes of Mr. Toosypegs beamed 
 upon them from the door. 
 
 " Orlando," shouted the afflicted admiral, " she's went and 
 did It 1 Firefly's gone and did it 1 Yes, Orlando, she's gone 
 to Davy's locker, I expect, before this, and the Lord have 
 mercy on her soul 1 " 
 
 "Admiral Havenful, I'm really sorry to hear it, I really 
 am," said Mr. Toosypegs, wiping his eyes with the north-west 
 corner of his yellow bandanna. " I never felt so bad about 
 anything in my life. I never did, I assure you, Admiral 
 Havenful. But why can't they go to Davy's locker after 
 her ? I should think they wouldn't mind the expense in a 
 case like this." 
 
 " Orlando C. Toosypegs," said the admiral, severely; " I 
 hope you don't mean to poke fun at people in grief ; because 
 if you do, it shows a very improper spirit on your part, and 
 a total depravity I should be sorry to see, Orlando 
 Toosypegs." 
 
 " Why, my gracious 1 " said the astonished and aggrieved 
 Mr. Toosypegs; " wl at have I said.? I'm sure, Admiral 
 Havenful, I hadn't the remotest idea of being funny, that 
 ever was ; and if I said anything that wasn't right, I beg 
 your pardon for it, and can assure you I never meant it." 
 
 " Well, then, enough said," testily interrupted the admiral. 
 " Now, Snowdrop, look here : what are they goin- to do 
 about Pet?" / «= t, 
 
niw . tfiiii » n> !ii ii iiiii i»n»iwyn»rtw 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 
 
 337 
 
 )oth hands, in 
 blessed little 
 ing and trust- 
 ^as invented. 
 
 confounded, 
 f into such a 
 
 They ought 
 f them. Oh, 
 ul Jones, you 
 ife. Oh, oh, 
 f grief, as he 
 i moppingf of 
 
 i without— a 
 moment the 
 pegs beamed 
 
 e's went and 
 
 , she's gone 
 
 Lord have 
 
 : it, I really 
 e north-west 
 o bad about 
 ou. Admiral 
 locker after 
 xpense in a 
 
 everely ; " I 
 lef ; because 
 ir part, and 
 e, Orlando 
 
 d aggrieved 
 ■e. Admiral 
 funny, that 
 right, I beg 
 leant it." 
 he admiral, 
 oing to do 
 
 ! 'J 
 
 i '^ 
 
 «' Ray and Ranty have gone to Judestown to get the peo- 
 ple to search. They think she is somewhere along the 
 beach, in some hidden cave the smugglers have there." 
 
 " U-m-m 1 very good," said the admiral, nodding his head 
 approvingly ; " perhaps they will find her yet. I'll go over to 
 Judestown myself, and ship along with the rest. We'll 
 scour the whole coast ; so that if she's above water anywhere, 
 we must find her." 
 
 " I'll gOj too. Admiral Havenful," said Mr. Toosypegs, 
 with more alacrity than he usually betrayed ; " that is, if 
 you think there is no danger with them smugglers. You 
 don't think there is any danger, do you. Admiral Havenful ? " 
 
 " Blame them — yes 1 " roared the admiral, fiercely. " I 
 wish to the Lord Harry I could only come across some of 
 them 1 I'll be blowed if I wouldn't give them the confounded- 
 est keel-hauling they ever got in their lives I If you are afraid, 
 Orlando Toosypegs," said the admiral, facing round with 
 savage abruptness, " stay at hom.e ! Any man that wouldn't 
 volunteer in a case like this, ought to be swung to ^he yard- 
 arm and left to feed the crows. You would h^i a blue 
 lookout for the commander of a privateer — wouldn't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Admiral Havenful," said Mr, Toosypegs, abashed and 
 rather terrified by this outburst, " I beg your pardon, and I 
 ain't the least afraid. I'll go with you, and do my best to 
 help you to keel-haul the smugglers, whatever that may be. 
 Miss Minnie, good-by. Don't take on about it, because 
 we'll be sure to find Miss Pet and bring her home. I dare 
 say the smugglers will give her up, if they're onh- asked 
 politely." 
 
 The admiral heard this comforting assurance with a snort 
 of unspeakable contempt, and then waddled out; and 
 groaning bodily and mentally, mounted Ringbone, and ac- 
 companied by Mr. Toosypegs, set out at the rate of half a 
 knot an hour to Judestown. 
 
 During the remainder of the day, Erminie was left alone, 
 half wild with alternate hope, terror, anxiety, expectation. 
 Her busy fingers, for a wonder, were idle now, as she passed 
 continually in and out, watching, with feverish impatience, 
 the forest road, in the hope of seeing some one who could 
 give her some news of how the search progressed. 
 
338 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I 
 
 But night came, and no messenger had arrived to relieve her 
 torturmg anxiety. 
 
 It was a sultry, star-lit night. Not a breath of air stirred 
 the motionJess leaves of the forest trees, and the clear chirp 
 of the katy-did and lonely cry of the whippoorwill alone broke 
 the oppressive silence. Down on the shore below, she cculd 
 faintly hear the dreary murmur of the waves as they sighed 
 softly to the shore; and at long intervals the wild, piefcing 
 cry of some sea-bird would resound about all, as it skimmed 
 wildly across the dark, restless deep. The wide, lonesome 
 heath was as silent as the grave ; and the long line of cherrv- 
 
 'ri'^ wl f "o"^"^ '^°"^ °^^'' ^^ ^'■^"^ the parlor-windows 
 of he White Squall was not visible to-night— the drearv 
 darkness betokening its master was away. The forest lav 
 wrapped in somber gloom, looming up, like some huge, 
 dark shadow, in the light of the solemn, beautiful stars. 
 
 All withm the cottage was silent, too. Ketura had long 
 ago retired and the negress, Lucy, was sleeping that deep, 
 death-like sleep peculiar to her race. 
 
 Standing in the shadow of the vine-shaded porch, Erminie 
 watched with restless impatience for the return of some one 
 from Judestown-her whole thought of Pet and her prob- 
 able fate Unceasingly she reproached herself for having 
 allowed her to depart at all that night ; never pausing to re- 
 flect how little Pet would have minded her entreaties to stav 
 when she took it into her willful little head to go 
 
 The clock struck nine, and then ten ; and still no one 
 came. 
 
 Half-despairing of their return that night, Erminie was 
 about to go in, when the thunder of horses' hoofs coming 
 through the forest road arrested her steps. 
 
 The next moment horse rnd rider came dashing at a mad 
 
 prSached "^ ^° '^^ ^^^^' ^""^ ^^^ ^^^^^^ °^ ^"^ ^P" 
 
 " Oh, Ray, is there any news of her ? Is she found ? " 
 eagerly exclaimed Erminie. 
 
 "No; nor is she likely to be as far as I can see," said 
 Ray, gloomily. " Not the slightest trace of her has been 
 found, though the whole beach has been searched, from one 
 
 for .1'' "^"i!! ;. ' ^^^ ^!^'''' ^'"^^^ '^ "P "°^' ^"^ gone home 
 for to-night. Ranty and the admiral stay in Judestown all 
 
 m 
 
 J 
 
.^mmimmmmmt 
 
 'wmiHau^WI 
 
 V. 
 
 i to relieve her 
 
 I of air stirred 
 he clear chirp 
 
 II alone broke 
 low, she cculd 
 } they sighed 
 wild, piercing 
 is it skimmed 
 ide, lonesome 
 line of cherry- 
 irlor-windows 
 —the dreary 
 'he forest lay 
 
 some huge, 
 'ul stars, 
 ura had long 
 \g that deep, 
 
 )rch, Erminie 
 of some one 
 nd her prob- 
 f for having 
 ausing to re- 
 !aties to stay 
 
 D. 
 
 still no one 
 
 i^rminie was 
 >ofs coming 
 
 ig at a mad, 
 oflF and ap- 
 
 tie found ? " 
 
 1 see," said 
 r has been 
 d, from one 
 I gone home 
 destown all 
 
 FACE TO FACE. 
 
 339 
 
 night, and the hunt is to be resumed to-morrow, with the 
 same success, I suppose. They are mad — worse than mad — 
 to think they will ever see her again." 
 
 He flung himself into a chair, and leaned his head on his 
 hand, while his thick, jet-black hair fell heavily over his 
 face. 
 
 Something in his look, tone, and attitude awed and stilled 
 Erminie into silence. Though her own gentle heart seemed 
 bursting with grief, there was a depth of passionate despair in 
 his that repressed all outward sobs and tears. In silence 
 they remained for a while, she silently watching him, and 
 trying to choke back her sobs ; and then, going over, she 
 touched him gently on the arm, and said : 
 
 " Dear Ray, let me get you some supper ; you have tasted 
 nothing since early this morning." 
 
 " Supper 1 Do you think I could eat, now !* " he cried, 
 with fierce impatience. '' I do not want any. Go!" 
 
 " Dear Day, do not look and speak so strangely. Per- 
 haps you will find her to-morrow." 
 
 " Perhars — perhaps 1 When a man has lost all he loves 
 in the world, there is a great consolation in a cool * perhaps 
 he may find it again.' Do you think those hell-hounds would 
 spare her a moment, once they got her in their power I Oh, 
 Petronilla — bright, beautiful Petronilla ! lost, lost, forever ! " 
 
 " Ray, Ray 1 " exclaimed Erminie, in low, terrified tones, 
 as a new light broke upon her, " did you love Petronilla ? " 
 
 " Love ? " he cried, with passionate fierceness, starting up 
 and shaking back his thick, dark hair. " Yes ; I loved her 
 with a love that you with your gentl > nature and calmly- 
 beating heart can never dream of. ^ loved her as only 
 those can love whose veins, like mine, run fire instead of 
 blood. Now that she is forever lost to me, I may confess; 
 what no living mortal would ever have discovered else. Yes ; 
 I loved her I What do you think of my presumption, little 
 sister? I, the beggared grandson of a despised gipsy, 
 educated by the bounty of her uncle, dared to lift my eyes 
 to this heiress, beauty and belle — this proud daughter of a 
 prouder father. Loved her ? Yes ; beyond the power of 
 words to tell I " 
 
 One white arm was around his neck, and Erminie's soft, 
 pitying lips were pressed to his forehead of flame. She did 
 
 S«r 
 
 
' ^ ' i i mw i i »i 
 
 340 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 }i ' 
 
 ,^i* 
 
 notspea^— no words were needed; that silent caress be- 
 spoke her deep sympathy. 
 
 He sat still and silent for a moment ; and then he started up 
 and seized his hat to go. 
 
 ;' Are you going out again, Ray } " asked Erminie, sur- 
 prised and uneasy. 
 
 " Yes ; for an hour or so. I cannot stay here, with this 
 fever fire in heart and brain." 
 
 He walked rapidly away from the cottage, and, as if in- 
 voluntarily, his steps turned in the direction of the shore 
 Right over the shore, in one place, the rocks projected in a 
 sort of shelf not more than five feet from the ground. Un- 
 derneath they went in abruptly, and thus a sort of natural 
 roof was formed ; and the sheltered place below had been 
 the favorite play-ground of his boyhood. 
 
 Up and down this ledge he paced, now, absorbed in his 
 own bitter thoughts, and totally unheeding the flight of 
 tirne. One hour, two, three passed ; and still he remained, 
 thinking of the lost c le. 
 
 Suddenly he paused. Did his ears deceive him, or did 
 he hear voices underneath. His own steps were muffled by 
 the velvety carpet of moss and grass that covered the place 
 and he walked to the outer edge and listened intently. Yes ' 
 there were voices underneath, talking in low, cautious tones! 
 His heart gave a great throb, and he got down on his hands 
 and knees and peered for one moment over the cliff Right 
 beneath were some half-dozen rough, uncouth-looking fellows 
 m the garb of sailors, and one of them. Black Bart, he re^ 
 membered to have often seen in Judestown. Had he dis- 
 covered the smugglers' haunt at last ? 
 
 ^ Laying his head close to the ground, hv could catch, at 
 mtervals, this conversation : 
 
 " Yes ; he's gone for good ; cleared out when he found he 
 must be discovered. What a pretty mess you made out of 
 It, Bart, taking the wrong gal, after all," said one of them 
 
 " Well, it wasn't my fault," growled Black Bart. '< How 
 was I to know one from t'other ? Serves the old sinner 
 right, too, to get taken in. Curse Garnet 1 This comes of 
 trusting these infernal land-sharks." 
 
 _" What a beautiful hunt they had over the beach to-day 1 " 
 said another, with a low chuckle. "They'll be at it to- 
 
FATHER AND SON. 
 
 341 
 
 t caress be* 
 
 he started up 
 
 Erminie, sur- 
 
 re, with this 
 
 nd, as if in- 
 f the shore, 
 ejected in a 
 ound. Un- 
 ; of natural 
 iv had been 
 
 irbed in his 
 le fliglit of 
 fi remained, 
 
 lim, or did 
 muffled by 
 i the place, 
 ntly. Yes ; 
 tious tones, 
 n his hands 
 liff. Right 
 ing fellows, 
 Bart, he re- 
 fad he dis- 
 
 Id catch, at 
 
 le found he 
 lade out of 
 le of them, 
 rt. " How 
 old sinner 
 s comes of 
 
 h to-day 1 " 
 e at it to- 
 
 morrow, too, and have their labor for their pains. Well, 
 cap'n, does the gal still stick to her story that she ain't the 
 one she ought to be ? " 
 
 The reply to this was given in so low a tone that Ray 
 could not hear it, and in his intense eagerness he leaned 
 further over to listen. But, as he did so, he lost his balance. 
 He strove to save himself, but in vain ; over he must go ; 
 and seeing there was no help for it, he took a flying leap, 
 and landed right in the midst of the astounded freebooters 1 
 
 WiMi interjections of surprise and alarm, half a dozen 
 bright blades instantly flashed in the moonlight ; but ere any 
 violence could be offered, the tall form of the outlaw chief 
 interposed between them, and father and son stood face to 
 face! 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 " When lovers meet in adverse hour, 
 ' Tis like a sun-glimpse through a shower — 
 A watery ray, an instant seen, 
 Then darkly-closing clouds between." 
 
 — SCOTT. 
 
 Silently they confronted each other — those two, so nearly 
 connected — so long separated — so strangely encountered 
 now. Did no " still, small," inward voice whisper to each 
 that they were father and son ? Was the voice of Nature 
 silent, that they should gaze upon each other as strangers 
 gaze ? 
 
 Yes, even so ; for although the outlaw chief started for a 
 moment to see before him the living embodiment of himself 
 at the same age, the emotion passed in a moment, and the 
 strange resemblance was set down to one of those accidental 
 likenesses that so often surprise us, and which cannot be 
 accounted for. Ray, too, fancied this dark, daring, reckless- 
 
 lookino- rhie^ta'" rpsfmblfd hirnsplf sonipwha*" ' bu*" ♦fr^ 
 
 passing thought had even less effect upon him than it had 
 on the other. 
 
 f^l 
 
343 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ,1 ^ 
 
 The men, still grasping their swords, had encircled Ray, 
 and were glaring upon him with darkly-threatening eyes, as 
 he stood boldly erect, and undauntedly confronting the 
 smuggler chief. 
 
 '' Well," said that personage, at last, breaking the silence, 
 and calmly surveying the intruder from head to foot, " who the 
 foul fiend are you, young man, that you come tumbling from 
 the clouds among us in this fashion ? " 
 
 " He is a revenue spy. Let us pitch him in the river 
 cap'n I " said Black Bart. 
 
 " Silence, sir I Come, my good youth, answer : What is 
 your business here ? " 
 
 " My business is, to discover the young lady you have so 
 basely abducted. If you are the leader of this gang of 
 cut-throats, I demand to be instantly informed where she is I " 
 said Ray, determined to put a boldfroi.t on the matter since 
 he was in for it. 
 
 " Whew-w 1 " whistled the captain, while the men set up an 
 insolent laugh. '« For coolness and effrontery, that modest 
 denjand cannot be easily beat. And what if we refuse, young 
 
 " Your refusal will not matter much, since to-morrow your 
 retreat will assuredly be discovered, and then you will every 
 one meet the doom your diabolical actions deserve I " 
 
 " And what may that be, most candid youth ? " said the 
 smuggler chief, with a sneer. 
 
 ''Hanging! " siid Ray, boldly; " a fate too good for 
 villains base enough to forcibly carry off a helpless young 
 
 With low, but passionate imprecations of rage, the outlaws 
 closed around Ray ; and his mortal career might have ended 
 then and there, but that the captain a second time in- 
 terfered. 
 
 " Back, men I " he said, authoritatively. « Let there be 
 no bloodshed to-night. Do you not know there are two 
 places where a man ought to speak without interruption ?— in 
 the pulpit and on the gallows. This foolhardy fellow is as 
 completely in our power as though he were swingin- in 
 mid-air, so he can speak with impunity. Prav oroceedl'mv 
 dear sir. Your conversation is mighty edifying and interest- 
 ing. So, hanging is too good for some of us, eh ? Now, what 
 
. ^m*mmvt.m*mmmii^>::-yi 
 
 ncircled Ray, 
 ;ning eyes, as 
 nfronting the 
 
 g the silence, 
 3ot, " who the 
 ambling from 
 
 in the river, 
 
 ver : WJiat is 
 
 you have so 
 this gang of 
 Kere she is 1 " 
 
 matter since 
 
 len set up an 
 
 that modest 
 
 efuse, young 
 
 morrow your 
 )u will every 
 •ve 1 " 
 ? " said the 
 
 00 good for 
 Ipless young 
 
 , the outlaws 
 
 have ended 
 
 >nd time in- 
 
 iCt there be 
 ere are two 
 uption ? — in 
 fellow is as 
 swinging in 
 proceed, rnv 
 md interest- 
 Now, what 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 343 
 
 would you recommend to be done with us supposing you were 
 our jud^e ? " 
 
 " Burning at the stake, perhaps I " suggested Black Bart ; 
 " and after that to be hung, drawn and quartered I " 
 
 " This is no time for fooling I " exclaimed Ray, impetuously. 
 " I demand to be instantly led to Miss Lawless, wherever 
 she may be I " 
 
 " A demand I am most happy to comply with," said Cap- 
 tain Reginald. " I always do like to oblige my guests when 
 1 can. This way, my young sir. But just keep your eye on 
 
 ^1 
 
 yoii 
 
 -. ?. 
 
 -and see that he does not give you the 
 " Hadn't I better bind and 
 
 him — wil 
 
 Slip." 
 
 " Ay, ay, cnp'n, " said Bart. 
 blindfold him ? " 
 
 " No, it will be needless, as in all probability he will never 
 set foot on this shore again." 
 
 " 1 understand : ' Dead men tell no tales I ' All right, 
 cap'n, " said Black Bart with ii demoniacal laugh, as the 
 whole party, with their prisoner in their midst, started 
 along the beach after the captain. 
 
 The cheering assurance that his fate was sealed did not 
 in the slightest degree intimidate Ray as he walked along, 
 with his fine form erect, his princely head thrown back, his 
 full, falcon eye, with its clear, steady gaze, making the in- 
 solent stare of the outlaws fall. One thought was upper- 
 most in his heart, thrilling through every nerve, throbbing 
 in every pulse; he was drawing near Petronilla — would 
 soon meet her, speak to her, comfort her in her captivity. 
 What pair of pantaloons over the innocent and unsuscepti- 
 ble age of seven has not felt a decidedly queer sensation 
 under his left ribs when about to meet the woman he loves ? 
 And if he fancied her pining away in '• durance vile," how 
 much his eagerness to meet, to comfort, to console her 
 would be increased 1 At least, it is to be hoped it would ; 
 and it had at least that effect on Ray Germaine, who, rapid- 
 ly as they walked, in his burning impatience it seemeo as 
 though they were going at a snail's pace. Even before him 
 he beheld Pet, locked up in ome desolate prison, weeping 
 as if her heart would break, and calling on her friends to 
 save her. Little did he dream that at that very moment she 
 was rolling over on the floor of her room, in convulsions of 
 
344 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 M ' 
 
 laughter at the mistake Black Bart had made, and the con- 
 sequent rage its discovery had thrown that worthy into. 
 
 For upward of a quarter of a mile, they walked along the 
 long, sandy, slippery beach, and then they suddenly diverged, 
 and turning an abrupt angle among the rocks, they came to 
 a part of the hill overgrown with stunted spruce and cedar 
 bushes. It was a bleak, lonely place, little frequented and 
 with no sign of anything like a hut, or cavern, or habitation, 
 far or near. But here the whole party came to a simultane- 
 ous halt ; and the smuggler-chief, putting his fingers to his 
 lips, gave a long, loud, sharp whistle. While Ray watched 
 these proceedings with intense interest, part of the thick un- 
 derbrush seemed to move ; a huge rock was violently dis- 
 lodged from its place, and a narrow, low opening, that it 
 seemed hardly possible to enter, save on one's hands and 
 knees, was revealed. The narrow chasm had evi(h ntly, at 
 some remote period, been made by a convulsion of Nature, 
 but Art had since been employed to widen, enlarge, and 
 conceal it. The huge rock was made to fit securely, and 
 could only be opened from within, thus defying detection 
 Those in search of Pet that day had passed over the spot a 
 dozen times, without dreaming in • ,e most remote way that 
 there could be an opening concealed among the apparently- 
 solid rocks. "^ 
 
 Captain Reginald turned to the utterly-astonished Ray- 
 mond, and gazed at him for a moment, with a peculiar smile 
 of sarcastic triumph. Then stooping his tall body, he passed 
 through the opening, and disappeared in the seemingly in- 
 terminable darkness beyond. 
 
 " You go next," said Black Bart, to Ray. 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation, the young man obeyed • 
 and having entered the aperture, found himself in the same 
 long, narrow, dark passage into which Garnet had borne Pet 
 the evening before. Ray descended the narrow, steep steps 
 faintly illuminated by the dim rays of a dark-lantern held 
 by the man who admitted them ; and following the smuggler- 
 captain through the long, rocky passage, entered, at last, the 
 large outer-room— the rendezvous of the outlaws. 
 
 The roughly-dressed, rougher-looking men lay, or sat, 
 scattcrcu about m every direction, some asleep on the floor, 
 some talking in low tones, and others amusing themselves 
 
 ! If 
 
^-'''^''HP*''****^piiK 
 
 01 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 345 
 
 as they pleased. In a remote corner sat the woman Mar- 
 guerite, lier ariiis dropped on a litt' table, her head lying 
 on them, as if asleep. Her presence accounted for the un- 
 uijual stillness of the men. 
 
 She was not ;'ileep, however. As the new-comers entered, 
 she lifted her head quickly, and after a fleeting glance at 
 her husband, fixed her eyes steadfastly on the stranger. 
 Mis strange resemblance to her husband was the first thing 
 to strike her. She half started up, dashed back her wild, 
 disheveled bl.ack hair, and gazed upon him with a sharp, 
 suspicious look. The men, too, stopped in their customary 
 avocations to look at the new-comer, and scan hi. a from 
 head to foot with inquiring eyes. Ray's dark, flashing eyes 
 feailessly encountered theirs, as he glanced vainly around 
 the room in search of Pet. 
 
 " Another prisoner, my good lads," said Captain Regi- 
 nald, as he entered. 
 
 " Who is he, captain ? who is he ? " chorused half a do7en 
 voices together 
 
 "His nam ; I ha-vj not yet had the pleasure of hearing. 
 Seeing us ui drt the j ?cks, and being of an inquiring spirit, 
 he leaped dc^vr nmoni us, and without ceremony, presented 
 himself. Wisl. "jr n indulge the said spirit of inquiry, I 
 persuaded him to accompany me here, and have much 
 pleasure in making you acquainted with him now. He is 
 very urgent to find out what has become of Miss Lawless : 
 and as he is evidently a friend, perhaps a lover of hers, I 
 could do no less than promise to let him see and console her 
 in her captivity." 
 
 This speech, which was delivered in his customary half- 
 careless, half-mocking tone, was received with a cheer and 
 a laugh by the men. Ray, flushed and irritated, turned to 
 the speaker, and said, passionately : 
 
 " Let me see her, then 1 W!.5re is she ? " 
 
 " Easy, my dear young friend — easy 1 Getting excited 
 and fierce never pays in this world. You will see the young 
 lady time enough." 
 
 At this moment, the woman Marguerite approached, and 
 laying her hand on her husband's arm. and fixing her sharp 
 black eyes on his face, pointed to Ray, and said something 
 in a low, rapid tone in French. 
 
 M 
 
"wrwrtSTT 
 
 346 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 "Ya-as," drawled Captain Reginald, passing his hand 
 carelessly over his thick, black whiskers, and looking indif- 
 ferently at the young man. " It is rather strange. I noticed 
 the resemblajice myself. How is your captive ? " 
 
 Before she could reply, the curtain was pushed aside ; 
 and with wide-open eyes, flushed cheeks, and wonder, de- 
 light and incredulity on every feature, Pet stood before 
 them. Ray's voice had reached her ear, and half-inclined 
 to doubt the evidence of her senses, she stood there, literally 
 rooted to the ground. Yes, there he was — his own proud, 
 fiery, handsome self, and forgetting everything in her de- 
 light. Pet uttered a cry of joy, and sprung toward him. He 
 took a step forward, his face flushed with many feelings, 
 and the next moment, for the first time, Pet was held clasped 
 in his arms. 
 
 " Oh, Ray ! dear Ray I I am so glad ! " exclaimed Pet, 
 scarcely knowing what she said, in her joy and amazement. 
 ** Dearest Ray — my gracious ! I didn't mean that ; but, oh, 
 Ray 1 I am so glad to see you again 1 " 
 
 " My own Petronilla 1 my dearest love 1 " he passionately 
 exclaimed, bending over her. 
 
 " How on earth did you ever find me out, Ray, stowed 
 away here under the earth ? " asked Pet, whose utter amaze- 
 ment at seeing him here completely overmastered every other 
 feeling. " Who told you these fellows had carried me off to 
 this black hole ? " 
 
 " No one — we only suspected it." 
 
 " And you know, Ray, it was the greatest mistake all 
 through. They meant to carry off Erminie — think of that I — 
 and they took me in a mistake. I expect they are making an 
 awful time about it up in the upper world — ain't they ? I 
 suppose papa's gone out of his head altogether." 
 
 " Your father is not at home, Petronilla. Ranty is nearly 
 distracted." 
 
 " Ranty ? Why, Ray — my goodness, Ray 1 is Ranty 
 home ? " 
 
 " Yes — arrived late last night," 
 
 " Did you ever 1 And they had to take and carry me oflE 
 such a contrary time, and I wanted to see him so much. Well, 
 if it 3 not tue lunniest, most diSugreeabie rmair, irom uegin- 
 nmg to end 1 i say, Ray, how did you find me out, though ? " 
 
.^■j^i|#*»V**y 'Wt - ^i tr »;*» r *«W!WBr Mi< W W rr -i.> t » fa»*#) m^ '(i t4 ?i Whstf 
 
 his hand 
 ng indif- 
 I noticed 
 
 d aside ; 
 nder, de- 
 id before 
 f-inclined 
 ;, literally 
 n proud, 
 I her de- 
 lim. He 
 feelings, 
 d clasped 
 
 ned Pet, 
 
 azement. 
 
 but, oh, 
 
 sionately 
 
 ^ stowed 
 ;r arnaze- 
 ery other 
 me off to 
 
 stake all 
 f that !— 
 laking an 
 they ? I 
 
 is nearly 
 
 is Ranty 
 
 ry me off 
 h. Well, 
 
 jVil ucgin- 
 
 [hough ? " 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 347 
 
 « It was all an accident. I will tell you another time. 
 What was the cause of your being abducted this way. Pet ? " 
 
 " Why, if your coming was an accident, mine was a mis- 
 take thought it was your Erminie, you know, because I look 
 
 so much like her, I expect. And now, what's going to turn 
 up next ? Are you going to take me home ? " 
 
 "Hardly, I fancy, " said Captain Reginald, who, with the 
 rest, had all this time been watching them and listening, 
 half-curious, half-amused. " Mr. Ray, if that is his name, 
 will hardly get back as easily as he come." 
 
 "Why, you hateful old brigand! You wouldn't be so 
 ugly as to keep him whether he wanted to or not ? " said 
 Pet, with flashing eyes. 
 
 " Sorry to disoblige a lady, but in this case, I fear I must,' 
 he said bowing sarcastically. 
 
 Pet, having by this time got over the first shock of her 
 surprise, like all the rest, was forcibly struck with the 
 resemblance between the smuggler-mptain and her handsome 
 lover. Her bright eyes danced, ior a few seconds, from 
 one to another, and then she burst out with : 
 
 " Well, now, if you two don't look as much alike as two 
 strung mackerels, my name's not Pet. I said all along, Ray, 
 you were his very image, and W leave it to ever>'body in gen- 
 eral if you ain't. If you were only twenty years older, and 
 had whiskers sticking out from under your chin like a row 
 of shaving-brushes, you would be as much alike as a couple 
 
 of peas." 
 
 " 'Pon my soul, the likeness is stror'nary I ' exclaimed 
 Black Bart, looking from one to another. " You look enough 
 alike to be his mother, cap'n." 
 
 " Really, I feel flattered to resemble a young gentleman 
 half so handsome," said the captain, in his customary tone 
 of careless mockery, " The resemblance must be very strik- 
 ing, since it attracts the notice of every one." 
 
 " I declare, it's real funny 1 " said Pet. " Maybe you will 
 turn out to be relatives, by-and-by — who knows ? It always 
 ends so in plays and novels, where everybody discovers, at 
 last, they are not themselves at all, but somebody else." 
 
 " May I ask the name of the gentleman whom I have the 
 1 i- Qrv,ui^ 5 T UorHb' tb'nk Mice Lawlp^s. \ve will 
 
 turn out to be relatives, as I have not one m the wide world," 
 
 ' c 
 
 Ml! 
 
' K'i'**' 
 
 348 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 N ^ 
 
 said Captain Reginald, with something like a cloud settling 
 on his dark face. 
 
 " My name is Raymond Germaine," said Ray, coldly. 
 " Germaine 1 " exclaimed the smuggler, starting suddenly 
 and pahng slightly, " did you say Germaine ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir ; what is there extraordinary in that ?" asked 
 Ray, whose arm still encircled Pet. 
 
 Captain Reginald did not reply, but paced abruptly up and 
 down the floor for a few moments. All were gazing at him 
 m surprise ; but there was fierce suspicion in the dusky depths 
 of Marguerite's black eyes. 
 
 He came back at last, and resuming his former posture, 
 said, but no longer in his cold, sarcastic tone : 
 
 " I once knew a person of that name, and its utterance 
 recalled strange memories. It is not a very common name 
 here — may I ask if you belong to this place .'' " 
 
 " No ; I am English by birth, but I have lived here since 
 a child." 
 " English!" 
 
 He started wildly again, and this time looked at the 
 young man in a sort of terror. 
 " Yes— or rather, no ; for though born in England, I am not 
 nglish. I come of another race." 
 
 The fixed glance of the smuggler's eyes grew each moment 
 more nitense, his dark face paled and paled, until, contrasting 
 with his jet-black hair and bread, it looked ghastly. His 
 breath came quick and short as he almost gasped : 
 " And that race is — " 
 
 " The gipsy I Yes, I am of the degraded gipsy race," 
 exclaimed Ray, with a sort of fierce pride, as though he 
 dared and defied the world to despise him for that. 
 
 The smuggler-captain reeled as though some one had 
 struck him a blow, and grasping Ray by the arm, he exclaimed, 
 in a low, husky whisper : 
 
 " Tell me who brought you here. You were a child, you 
 say, when you left England— who had charge of you ? " 
 
 "My grandmother— a gipsy! What in the name of heaven^ 
 sir, IS all this to you ?" exclaimed Ray, like the rest complete^ 
 ly astounded by this strange emotion. 
 
 " Her name!" said the outlaw, hoarsely, unheeding his 
 question and the wonder of the rest. ' ° 
 
,i( i |a^iMi tMt teru.->l3(ttHia*»JMft'»>-qt*r.- 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 349 
 
 «« Among her tribe she was known as the gipsy-queen, 
 
 Ketura " 
 
 " Tust God i" exclaimed the smuggler-chief, as his grasp 
 relaxed and with a face perfectly colorless, he stood like one 
 
 suddenly turned to stone. . x *u- > .. e ;^ 
 
 " Sir what under heaven is the meaning of this ? said 
 the bewildered Ray, while the rest looked on almost speech- 
 less with astonishment. 
 
 There was no reply. The outlaw had leaned his arm on 
 a sort of mantel, and, with his head dropped upon it, stood 
 like one stunned by some mighty blow. AH were white and 
 
 mute with wonder, u t. u •*» 
 
 He lifted his head at last, and they started to behold its 
 dreadful ghastliness. His eyes for some moments were 
 fixed in a long, inexplicable gaze on the surprised face of 
 Ray, then, in the same low, hoarse tone, he asked : ^ ^^ 
 
 " And she, your grandmother— does she still livei 
 
 '« Yes." 
 
 " Where '"' . „ 
 
 " In Old Barrens Cottage; but she is a helpless paralytic. 
 
 " So near, so near ! and I never knew it. Great Heaven 1 
 how wonderful is thy dispensations ! " he groaned. 
 
 '< Is it possible you knew her ?" asked the bewildered Ray. 
 
 " Yes, I knew her," he replied, slowly. " fell me, did 
 she ever speak to you of your father ? '' 
 
 Ray . brow darkened, and his eyes filled with a dusky fire. 
 
 u She did— often. My father was drowned ! He was 
 
 branded, tried, convicted, and condemned for the guilt of 
 
 anothar. His day of retribution is to come yet . Enough ot 
 
 this— I cannot understand what possible interest all this can 
 
 have for you." ,yr- , t o,„1pcc 
 
 " You will soon learn, Come with me; Miss Lawless, 
 remain with my wife until my return. This way, young man, 
 said the outlaw, turning to the inner apartment and mo- 
 tioning the other to precede him. _ . u u * ^o« 
 The astonished Ray did so, and the curtam fell between 
 the wonder-struck assembly outside and the twain within. 
 
350 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 ii 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 THE outlaw's story. 
 
 " They did not know how hate can burn 
 In hearts once changed from soft to stem 
 Nor all the false and fatal zeal 
 The convert of revenge can feel." 
 
 — Byropc. 
 
 "Be seated," said the outlaw, with a wave of his hand. 
 
 Silent and wondering, Ray obeyed. 
 
 His strange companion walked across the room, and for 
 some moments stood with knit brows and downcast eyes 
 like one absorbed in painful thought. Then he began pacing 
 up and down, while Ray watched him, inwardly wondering 
 whether this half-smuggler, half-pirate captain was quite rieht 
 m his mind. ^ 
 
 He stopped, at last, in his quick, excited walk as rapidly 
 as he had commenced, and facing round to where Rav sat 
 demanded : ^ ' 
 
 " Why did my— this gipsy, Ketura, leave England ? " 
 ' I do not know— -she never told me," replied Ray. 
 "Old Earl De Courcy died shortly after I, her son, left 
 
 England— perhaps she was instrumental in his death and 
 
 was obliged to fly." 
 
 '' Of that I know nothing," said Ray, impatiently. " What 
 has all this to do with the revelations you are to make ? " 
 
 " Not much, perhaps ; but I wish my question answ'ered. 
 You say she resides in Old Barrens cottaee ? " 
 
 " Yes." ^ 
 
 " You live there too, with her, of course ? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " If she is, as you say, a helpless paralytic, how has she 
 contrived to support and educate vnu— f«r t r,^..^^:..^ .._„ 
 are educated ?" ^ 
 
.^irti^».*rtw«#^»,^K«<iMrt»*i»iB^_,^ . 
 
 THE OUTLAW'S STORY. 
 
 351 
 
 )£ his hand. 
 
 5m, and for 
 'ncast eyes, 
 :gan pacing 
 wondering 
 quite right 
 
 : as rapidly 
 re Ray sat, 
 
 and ? " 
 lay. 
 
 er son, left 
 death and 
 
 '. " What 
 make? " 
 answered. 
 
 )w has she 
 
 r"OU 
 
 " It was not she who did it. I am indebted for my 
 education to the kindness of an old gentleman who resides 
 near us," said Ray, flushing and biting his lip till it was 
 bloodless. 
 
 " Who attends to her now, in her helplessness ?" 
 
 " Erminie and her servant." 
 
 " Erminie who ? Oh, I remember ; Miss Lawless spoke of 
 some Erminie Germaine, who was to have been brought 
 here instead of her. Who is this Erminie ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell. My grandmother brought us from England 
 together — she was a mere infant, then." 
 
 " Perhaps she is your sister ? " 
 
 " No ; her very looks forbid such a supposition. That 
 there is no gipsy blood in her veins, I am confident." 
 
 " And gipsy Ketura brought her from England ? Strange 
 — strange 1 Who can she be ? " said the outlaw, musingly. 
 " She has often spoken to you of the De Courcy family, no 
 doubt ! " 
 
 " Yes, often." 
 
 " Did she tell you Lord Ernest Villiers married Lady 
 Maude Percy ? " 
 
 "She did." 
 
 " Do you know if they had any children ? " 
 
 " I do not know.'" 
 
 " She never told you ? " 
 
 •' Never," said Ray, wondering where this " Catechism of 
 Perseverance " was to end. 
 
 " Strange, strange — very strange 1 " said the outlaw, pac- 
 ing up and down, with brows knit in deep thought. " And 
 so you are determined to avenge the wrongs of your father, 
 young man ? " he said, after a pause stopping 1 efore him again. 
 
 " Yes, Heaven helping me, I will 1 " exclaimed Ray, fierce- 
 
 " Heaven ? " said the outlaw, with his old sneer. " It is 
 the first time I ever heard Heaven aided revenge ; Satan 
 helping you, you mean. And how is this revenge to be ac- 
 complished ? " 
 
 " Time will tell," said Ray, impatiently. " It cannot con- 
 cern you in anyway, Captain Reginald ; and on this subject 
 you need asic me no niore questions, lor a wui not answer 
 them." 
 
.Ju'iLH J, wFtct^ 
 
 352 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 
 i i 
 
 I ■, 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
 
 " As you please," said he, with a strange smile. " You 
 have inlierited the fiery, passionate spirit of your race, I see. 
 YcHir father is, you say, drowned .^ " 
 
 '• Yes— yt.'S ! To what end are all these questions > " 
 
 '• Patience, Mr. Germaine ; I will come to that presently. 
 DLl your grandmother ever speak to you of your mother ? " 
 
 '• Very little," said Ray, in a softer tone. " She told me 
 she never saw her, but that she was a lady of rank. That, 
 however, I am inclined to doubt." 
 
 " And why ? " 
 
 "Because my father was a gipsy. iVo lady of rnrk, 
 knowing it, would have anything to do nitli one of his rliss. 
 Proud England's proud oaughtcrs would not male witii de- 
 spised gipsies." 
 
 A streak of fiery red darted for a moment across the 
 dark face of G':] tain Reginald, and then passed away, leav- 
 ing it whiter th.ui before. 
 
 " Love levels all distincticns, young sir," he said, haughti- 
 ly. "If she lovca him would not that be sufficient to 
 break tl.rough all the cobweb barriers of rn)k ; Have not 
 all social ties been proven, thousands of tiuses, to be more 
 fiimsythan pnper walls before the irresistible whirlwind of 
 b'lm-.vjj love and passion? " 
 
 ?.,■ y mought of Pet, and his darl cheek flushed slightly. 
 What a coiivenient belief this would be, dared he adopt it. 
 He loved her, and thrilling through his heart came the con- 
 viction that she loved him. Would ;he, too, break down 
 these " paper walls " for his sake ? \\'ould she give up all 
 the world for him, as thousands had done before, according 
 to this strange man's story? 
 
 " Your mother was a lady of rank— is a lady of rank, for 
 she still lives 1 " were the next words, spoken rapidly and 
 excitedly, that aroused him from his dangerous reverie. 
 
 "My mother lives ?" exclaimed Ray, springing to his 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Great Heaven ! Where ? " 
 
 " In England, most probably." 
 
 " My mother lives ? Can it be possible ? Who is .she ? 
 
 self. ^ 
 
 like one beside 
 
 mm- 
 
THE OUTLAW'S STORY. 
 
 353 
 
 ile. " You 
 race, I see. 
 
 ms ? " 
 t presently. 
 ■ mother ? " 
 ;ie told ine 
 nk. That, 
 
 i of rank, 
 if his «:lass. 
 le with de- 
 
 across the 
 away, leav- 
 
 d, haughti- 
 jfRcitnt to 
 3iave not 
 o be more 
 lirlwind of 
 
 !d slightly, 
 e adopt it. 
 le the con- 
 reak down 
 2;ive up all 
 according 
 
 i rank, for 
 ipidly and 
 verie. 
 ng to his 
 
 lo is .she ? 
 :sidc him- 
 
 " Lady Maude Villiers, Countess De Courcy 1 " exclaimed 
 the outlaw, while his dark, fierce eyes blazed. 
 
 Ray stood for an instant paralyzed ; then an expression of 
 anger and utter incredulity flushed his face and flashed from 
 his eyes. 
 
 " My mother the Countess De Courcy ! " he said, scorn- 
 fully. " Do you take me for a fool, Captain Reginald ? " 
 
 " Young man, before high Heaven I swear I speak the 
 truth 1 " said the outlaw, solemnly. " Did not Ketura tell you 
 the manner in which your father's marriage was brought 
 about ? " 
 
 " That he inveigled my mother into it by some unlawful 
 means ? Yes ; she told me that. But, good heavens 1 the 
 idea of it being Lady Maude Percy I Oh, it is absurd, ridic- 
 ulous, incredible, impossible I " exclaimed Ray, vehement- 
 ly- 
 
 " It is the truth I Reginald Germaine, look me in the face, 
 and see if I am not speaking the truth," 
 
 Yes ; no one could look in those dark, solemn eyes and 
 doubt his words. 
 
 Stunned, giddy, bewildered, Ray dropped into his seat, 
 feeling as if the room was whirling round him. 
 
 " And you — who, in Heaven's name are you, that know 
 all this ? " he passionately asked. 
 
 " That I will tell you presently. Suffice it to say that I do 
 know that I am speaking God's truth." 
 
 " Angels in heaven I the Countess De Courcy my mother ? 
 From whom did you learn this ? " 
 
 " From your father." 
 
 " My father is dead." 
 
 " Your father is not." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Your father is not dead 1 " 
 
 " Sir, you are either mad or mocking me I " exclaimed 
 Ray, springing fiercely to his feet. 
 
 " Young man, I am neither." 
 
 " My father was drowned on his way to Van Diemen's 
 Land." 
 
 " Your father was not," 
 
 ** Grf»a^ hpavpne am T cano nr mo/J > " ovr-loinrta/^ P iv in 
 
 a loud, thrilling tone. •' Man, demon, devil I whoever you 
 
^ liiiii-- ■ 
 
 ■r* I" 
 
 TtJi r 
 
 354 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 M ' 
 
 are, was not the transport wrecked on her way from Eng- 
 land ? " 
 
 " She was." 
 
 '« And all on board lost ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "No?" 
 
 " No ; I repeat. All were lost but two — your father 
 was one of these." 
 
 " Heaven of heavens 1 And where is my father now ? " 
 
 " That, too, you will learn anon. If you please, we will 
 take things in the order of their occurring. Listen, now. 
 Sit down and be calm ; getting excited will do no good and 
 only retard matters. The transport struck a sunken reel 
 and was wrecked one stormy night. Your father and one 
 sailor clung to a spar until daylight. By that time all the rest 
 had disappeared — were ingulfed in the ocean and perished. 
 Captain, sailors, convicts and all were equal, at last, in the 
 boundless sea. Before noon the next day your father and 
 the sailor were seen and picked up by a passing vessel." 
 
 " Were you that sailor ? " 
 
 " Patience, my dear sir," said Captain Reginald, with a 
 slight smile : " who I was does not matter just now. The 
 ship was a merchantman, bound to a far-distant port. They 
 took us with them, and over a year elapsed before our sails 
 filled for ' Merrie England' again. We were in the South 
 Seas — then, as now, infested with pirates ; and we never 
 reached our island-home. For one day we were chased, 
 overtaken, attacked and defeated by a pirate, and more 
 than half our number found graves in the wide ocean, where 
 many a brave heart had grown cold before, and will while 
 the great sea rolls." 
 
 (< We ? " broke in Ray at this point, fixing his eyes pier- 
 cingly on the other's face — " we ? Then you were the sailor 
 saved with my father ? " 
 
 Again that fleeting, quickly-fading. Inexplicable smile 
 flickered for an instant round the lips of the outlaw, as he 
 said : 
 
 ** Hasty and impatient yet. You must learn that great 
 Christian virtue, patience, Mr. Germaine ; one cannot well 
 get through the world without it. Whether I was the sailor 
 in question, or not, does not matter ; suffice it to say, I was 
 
 i 
 
THE OUTI^AW'S STORY. 
 
 355 
 
 as the sailor 
 
 on board the ship when she was mastered by the pirates. They 
 were short of hands, and the captain very graciously offered 
 their lives to those that remained, on condition of their tak- 
 ing an oafli of allegiance to him, and becoming rovers and 
 free lords of the high seas. One or two honest souls pre- 
 ferred the red maws of hungry sharks who went swimming 
 round the ships, casting longing eyes up at us, asking, as 
 plainly as looks could speak, for another mouthful of an old 
 salt. They were gratified, too ; for three of as good, brave, 
 warm-hearted fellows as ever climbed the rigging walked the 
 plank that hour, and found their graves in the capacious 
 stomachs of the ravenous devils of sharks. Poor fellows I 
 if there is such a place as heaven they went there straight ; 
 for heaven is as easily reached by water as land. I suppose 
 it doesn't matter whether people are conveyed to it in can- 
 vas shrouds or inside of sharks." 
 
 "Very true," said Ray; " and you joined the pirates to 
 aid my father ? " 
 
 " Yes, we joined them ; I was reckless and so was he ; 
 we did not care a fillip whether we cruised under the black 
 flag or the red cross of St. George. Life was not of much 
 value to him for its own sake, but he had to live for sundry 
 notions — revenge, I fancy, being the strongest. Then he 
 had a child living — you, Master Raymond ; and though con- 
 siderable of a devil himself, he had some human feeling left, 
 and the only white spot in his soul was his love for you, for 
 his mother, and for Lady Maude Percy, For he loved her 
 then, loves her still, and will while life remains for him." 
 
 " And yet she scorned him," said Ray, with flashing eyes 
 and dilating nostrils. 
 
 " Yes, she scorned him," said the outlaw, " no one olse 
 could have done it and live. But he loved her, and though 
 he had resolved never to see her more, yet her memory and 
 that of her child were the only bright spots remaining in his 
 darkened life. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Germaine, he sailed along with the pirates. 
 They were a motley assembly, that crew — men from every 
 nation, whom crime, wrong, revenge, hatred, or any other 
 dark, dreadful cause had driven together here to wage 
 eternal war against the world they hated, and find their only 
 delight in scenes of blood, pillage and murder. There were 
 
'j^Mss^AliMi 
 
 "umi IT . 
 
 IP 
 
 356 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 French, Spanish, Italians, English, Corsicans, and Heaven 
 knows what besides, all jabbering together tht re— raising 
 the most infernal commotion sometimes, when they got 
 drinking and fighting, that ever shamed Babel. The disci- 
 pline was pretty strict, about as strict as it could by any 
 possibility be among such a gang, but they would break out 
 at times, and then the diabolical regions themselves might 
 have found it hard to raise such scenes as ensued- There 
 were wor'^- sit' Avs than murder committed, sometimes, by 
 these buidoi. riejids ; your father never took part in them, 
 though ; the m-mory of the past kept him from that. 
 Standing by myself, sometimes, after witnessing things that 
 wo'ild make your blood curdle, I used to wonder if there wa^j 
 a deep enough pit in hell for tiiese fellows. When I was 
 young I used to believe in such a place. Mr. Germaine, 
 no doubt you do nn mehow I got over that and 
 
 sundry other pleasant beliefs of late years. Though, when- 
 ever I think of what I saw and heard on board of that 
 cursed floating pandemonium, I wish, from the bottom of my 
 soul, there was one to grill them alive for their deeds in the 
 flesh." 
 
 " Did my father ever take part in these horrible scenes ? " 
 asked Ray, with a slight shudder. 
 
 "No, never 1" replied the outlaw, emphatically ;" your 
 father had been a gentleman once, and his whole nature re- 
 volted against this brutality. No, he never joined these 
 fearful revels, but he f .ught like the very fiend himself in 
 open warfare, especially against the English hips. When 
 they were attacked he was worth the whole pirate crew to- 
 gether He fought, and cut, and clove, and slashed them, 
 like the devil and all hi = angels. Burning and ti irting 
 still under the sense of his mighty wrongs and degrad.ilions, 
 he seemed determined to wipe out all his sufferings in their 
 blood. Many an English heart grtvv cold in death to atone 
 for the wrong one of their cou -ymen had done him. He 
 had vowed vengeance igainst the whole nplion, and 1 doubt 
 wheth St. .enanus himself kept a vow more religiously 
 both in letter and spirit. 
 
 " Well. Mr. Germaine, we cruised along with these sea- 
 wolves Iji comc four o five mon ' -:, .qnd kept on at our old 
 trade of throat-cutting, plank-walking, scuttling, sinking and 
 
THE OUTLAW'S e TORY. 
 
 357 
 
 1 Heaven 
 _' — raising 
 
 they got 
 rhe disci- 
 d by any 
 break out 
 ves might 
 i. There 
 ;times, by 
 
 in them, 
 rom that, 
 lings that 
 : tiiere waa 
 len I was 
 CJermaine, 
 
 that and 
 gh, when- 
 d of that 
 torn of my 
 eds in the 
 
 scenes ? " 
 
 lly ; " your 
 nature re- 
 ined these 
 himself in 
 Ds. When 
 e crew to- 
 ;hed them, 
 1 *^ni;irting 
 o;radations, 
 y& in their 
 h to atone 
 him. He 
 nd 1 doubt 
 religiously 
 
 these sea- 
 at our old 
 inking and 
 
 
 burning ships. Sometimes, to vary the amusement, and 
 breathe a spell, we used to go ashore and raise old Nick 
 generally among the f^aceable inhabitants of various sea- 
 port towns and cities. "hese places very soon gut too hot 
 to hold us, and we ne\. ventured back to the same place 
 twice; for some of the luen, getting tender-hearted at times, 
 would take a fancy to the pretty wives and daughters of the 
 good citizens, and carry off two or three of them for the 
 benefit of sea-air. Of course there always was the devil to 
 pay when these little escapades were found out, and it was 
 like running our heads i.ito a hornet's-nest to go back. 
 Your father wished to go to England and see after you, I 
 fancy, but there was no opportunity. He managed tc make 
 his escape, however, after a long time ; gave the higJi sea- 
 wolves leg-bail one moonlight night, and was off. He 
 reached England in safety, and there, the first news he had 
 was his own death, and the marriage of Lady Maude Percy 
 to the son of his enemy. Lord Ernest Villiers. 
 
 " The news nearly drove him mad, for his love for that 
 beautiful lady amounted to frenzy. His intentions had been 
 to seek you uut ; but when he heard of that marriage he fled 
 from England as the old demon was after him, and never 
 rested till he reacued the place where he knew he was most 
 likely to meet his old friends, the pirates, again. 
 
 " Well, he found them, gave some plausible reason for his 
 absence, and was admitted among that happy ban 1 of 
 Christian brothers once more. He reached them just in the 
 nick of time, too ; for their commander was dead, and the 
 whole crew were phmged in deepest affliction about it, as 
 they were never likely to find another who could kill, slay, 
 burn, and murder all before him, and send insubordinate 
 sailors to kingdom come, with a rap of a marlin-spike, as 
 neatly as he could. Your father had, from the first, been an 
 immense favorite with them, and id obtained that power- 
 ful asciidency over them that nen of refined an 1 strong 
 ni' Is always possess over coarse, brute natures; and be- 
 sides, he had the amiable qualities of his lamciitcd and ac- 
 complished predecessor in a very high degree. Theiefore, 
 no sooner did he arrive than he was unanimoubiy and with 
 one accord, elected to the vacant co :.nd, and stood in 
 the shoes of the never-to-be sufficient!} niourri d-for Captain 
 
"Zamf n-* 
 
 3S3 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 !.' 
 
 Diago who, having served his Satanic Majesty like a faithful 
 servant for Hve-and-twenty years in this uliirligig world, 
 '"ent to aid him in keeping the Kingdom Infernal in order, 
 with five ounces of lead through his skull. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Germaine, under the command of your worthy 
 father, who, by the way, dropped his a/ms of Germaine when 
 he first joined the pirates, the ' Diable Rouge,' as we called, 
 very appropriately, our ship, did a flourishing business, 
 and sunk more goodly vessels belonging to their various 
 Christian Majesties than all the other gay crafts sailing 
 under the black flag at the time. He did some good, too, 
 among his own crew— put a stop to all their not-easily-to-be- 
 told exc« ,es, of more kinds than one, and let them know 
 they had tound their master at last. They were inclined to 
 rebel, and did rebel at first; but he very coolly took out a 
 brace of pistols and shot two of the ringleaders of the mutiny 
 dead ; and then, in a speech much shorter than sweet, gave 
 them to understand that every symptom of insubordination 
 would, in the future, be put a stop to in the same gentle and 
 fatherly way. Well, Mr. Germaine, would you believe it, 
 instead of flying into a rage at this, and kicking up a 
 rumpus, they inunediately conceived an immense rt...pect 
 for him, and from that day no Caliph Haroun Alraschid 
 ever reigned it more royally over his bastinadoed subjects 
 than did Captain Re — yo'ur father, on board the ' Red 
 Devil.' On board a French privateer, that we sent to 
 Davy Jones' one night, we found a lot of ladies ; and after 
 sending their masculine fi lends to another, and it is to be 
 hoped a better world, we transferred the fair portion of the 
 cargo to our own ship. It was nothing unusual for us to 
 take ladies in this way ; but since your father took command 
 they were always well and respectfully treated, and landed 
 at the first port we touched, well supplied with money, and 
 left to make the best of their way home. Therefore, our 
 having three or four of the dear creatures on board now 
 would not have been worthy of notice, had not one of them, 
 a most beautiful French girl, and a daughter of a great mag- 
 nate of the land — a marquis de something — took it into her 
 head to fall in love with our dare-devil of a captain ; and 
 when the ship arrived at the place where the rest were to be 
 landed, mademoiselle absolutely ' put her foot down,' to use 
 
THE OUTLAW'S STORY. 
 
 359 
 
 ia faithful 
 
 ,ng world, 
 
 in order, 
 
 lur worthy 
 aine when 
 we called, 
 
 business, 
 ir various 
 fts sailii\g 
 ^ood, too, 
 sily-to-be- 
 Kiu know 
 iclined to 
 ook out a 
 le mutiny 
 eet, gave 
 )rdination 
 entle and 
 )elieve it, 
 ing up a 
 2 respect 
 Alrasrhid 
 
 subjects 
 :he ' Red 
 sent to 
 and after 
 t is to be 
 ion of the 
 for us to 
 command 
 d landed 
 ney, and 
 iore, our 
 3ard now 
 : of them, 
 reat mag- 
 
 into her 
 ain ; and 
 ere to be 
 I,' to use 
 
 a common expression, and flatly refused to leave him. In 
 vain he exp(»'^Uilat«.d : told her he did not love her; that 
 the iife he led was too dangerous for her to think of sharing; 
 that his life was never safe for two consecutive minutes ; that 
 she would be wretched with him, and so forth ; in fact, he 
 talked to her as if he had been the greatest old anchorite 
 that ever looked upon the adorable sex as a special invention 
 of Satan— the whole thing was the old story of St. Revere 
 and Cathlcen over again. Mademoiselle wouldn't listen to 
 reason, and determined to have him at any price. Our 
 moral young captain hesitated at first ; but she was young, 
 beautiful, ' rounded and ripe,' and he was only frail flesh 
 and blood like the rest of us ; and the result of all her tears 
 and pleadings was, that one evening they both went on shore 
 together, and perpetrated downright matrimony, in free 
 and easy defiance of all the statutes and by-laws against 
 bigamy that ever were made. Perhaps he thought he had 
 made enough miserable for life, and that there might be some 
 merit, after all, in making this infatuated young creature 
 happy. It is really wonderful how girls, all the world over, 
 will cling to the most undesirable set of men, black-legs, 
 pugilists, loafers, all sorts of outlawed people, and give the 
 cold shoulder to sensible, straight-forward, every-day Chris- 
 tians. You may talk to them till your tongue aches, 
 and show them the evil of their ways in the most glaring 
 colors, their reply will be : ' I love him,' and after that you 
 might as well try to drain the Atlantic with a teaspoon as to 
 make them give him up ; they'll cling to him like a barnacle 
 to the bottom of an old ship. But hold on I it won't do to 
 indulge in a train of moral reflections ; for if I begin I won't 
 know when to stop. 
 
 " Well, our captain took his pretty wife to sea with him — 
 for, though he offered to procure a hoi^e for her on any part 
 of the globe, she would not hear of leaving him. He was 
 totally unworthy of such strong, passionate love as she 
 lavished upon him, but he did all he could under the circum- 
 stances to make her happy. He liked her, she was such a 
 strong-loving, brave-hearted girl — but he did not, could not 
 love her. It seemed as if all love had died out of his heart 
 until the birth of his lii^'C daughicr, and 
 old slumbering affections awoke and centered in her. 
 
 % 
 ^ 
 
 
 tricii t-oiTtc Oi tiiS 
 
36o 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 " After her birth, his better nature, or what remained of 
 it, seemed to awake, and he grew tired and sick of the evil 
 life he led. He had glutted his vengeance sufficiently 
 already : and she was continually urging him to give it up ; 
 and now that time had calmed his feelings concerning the 
 marriage of Lady Maude, he wished to return to England 
 and seek out his other child 1 Such was his continual 
 resolve, but still nearly two years elapsed before he carried 
 it into effect. At the end of that time he gave up his com- 
 mand of the ' Diable Rouge' to the chief mate, and with his 
 wife and little dark-eyed daughter Rita, set out for England. 
 No one knew him there ; time and a tropical sun had changed 
 him wonderfully, so he was free to pursue his investigations 
 unmolested. He made every inquiry about his mother and 
 son ; but, of course, they were in vain, since long before, 
 they had left for this place. 
 
 " But Fate, as if not tired of showering blows upon him, 
 had still another in reserve for him. His little daughter 
 Rita was lost one day in the great wilderness of London, 
 and he never saw or heard of her after." 
 
 Captain Reginald paused for a moment and averted his 
 face, while Ray continued to listen with breathless interest. 
 
 " His wife nearly went crazy," continued Captain Regi- 
 nald at last, lifting his head and speaking very rapidly ; " she 
 was crazy for a time, and he — he grew desperate. He did 
 not rejoin the pirates — his very soul loathed them — but he 
 became a reckless man. He roamed the world over, smug- 
 gled, ran into danger, exposed himself to death every day — 
 and lived through all. His wife accompanied him in every 
 danger ; she never left his side during all these long, long, 
 sorrowful years. Fate, Providence — a superior power of 
 some sort — drove him to this coast ; he found this cave, 
 made it one of his rendezvous, and often came here, with- 
 out dreaming that his mother and son were within a stone's 
 throw of him. Truly, as I said, this world is full of paper 
 walls, when mother, and father, and son dwell so near, and 
 never until now met." 
 
 He paused and came over to Ray. He started to his 
 feet and confronted the strange narrator with wonder-wide 
 
 eves, 
 "rf — 
 
 5 . i f 
 
THE ATTACK. 
 
 361 
 
 remained of 
 
 ic of the evil 
 
 sufficiently 
 
 3 give it up ; 
 
 ncerning the 
 
 to England 
 
 is continual 
 
 e he carried 
 
 up his com- 
 
 and with his 
 
 'or England. 
 
 Iiad changed 
 
 ivestigations 
 
 mother and 
 
 long before, 
 
 s upon him, 
 
 le daughter 
 
 of London, 
 
 averted his 
 ;ss interest, 
 ptain Regi- 
 ipidiy ; " she 
 :e. He did 
 m — but he 
 
 over, smug- 
 every day — 
 lim in every 
 : long, long, 
 r power of 
 i this cave, 
 
 here, with- 
 lin a stone's 
 "uU of paper 
 o near, and 
 
 irted to his 
 vonder-wide 
 
 " Restored now i " he said, wildly. " And have they met 
 
 at last ? " 
 
 " They have," replied the outlaw, with a strange, sad 
 
 smile. 
 
 " My father ! my father 1 where is he ? " cried Ray, half 
 delirious with all these revelations. 
 
 " He stands beside you 1 I am your father 1 " was the 
 thrilling answer. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVn. 
 
 THE ATTACK. 
 
 " Then more fierce 
 
 The conflict grew : the din of arms ; the yell 
 Of savage rage ; the shriek of agony ; 
 The groans of death, commingled with one sound 
 Of undistinguished horrors." 
 
 *• — SOUTHEY. 
 
 Silent, motionless, speechless, with surprise and many 
 contending emotions, Ray stood gazing on his new-found 
 father, like one suddenly strieken dumb. And with one hand 
 resting on the young man's shoulders, the outlaw stood be- 
 fore him, looking in his pale, wild, excited face, with a 
 strange, sad smile. _ 
 
 " My father 1 " reoeated Ray, like one in a dream. 
 
 " Yes, even so ; you have little cause, I fear, to be provd 
 of the relationship. In the branded outlaw, smuggler, and 
 pirate. Captain Reginald, you behold him who was once 
 known as the Count Germaine, the husband of the beautiful, 
 high-born Lady Maude Percy, and your father. Strange, 
 strange, that we should meet thus." 
 
 For some moments Ray paced up and down the floor 
 rapidly and excitedly, with a face from which every trace of 
 color had fled. His father stood watching him, one arm 
 leaning on a sort of mantel, with a look half proud, half sad, 
 half bitter, commingled on his still fine face. 
 
 " I see you are not disposed to acknowledge the relation- 
 ship between us, sir," he said, almost haughtily. " Well, I 
 own you are not to blame for that. Let us part as we mci 
 first, as strangers ; you go your way and I will continue 
 
■ii J.«ill ^k M I »v"T^ 
 
 362 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 mine I The world need never know that you are aught to 
 tiie outlawed rover-chief. You are free, sir ; free to go, and to 
 take Mis.s Lawless with you, if you choose. I did wish to see 
 my poor old mother before I left, but, perhaps, it is better as 
 It IS. I will leave this part of the world altogether, and re- 
 turn no more ; the son of Maude Percy, the one love of my 
 crune-darkened life, will never be compromised by me " 
 
 There was something unspeakably sad in the proud, cold 
 way this was said, compared with the deep melancholy the 
 bitter remorse in his dark eyes. There were tears that did 
 honor to his manly heart in Ray's eyes, as he came over and 
 held out his hand. 
 
 " My father, you wrong me," he said, earnestly ; " it wa^ 
 from no such unworthy feeling I hesitated to reply. These 
 revelations came so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that for the 
 time being I was stunned, and unable to comprehend all 
 clearly. Outlaw or not, you are my father still; and as 
 such, we will leave the world and its scorn togeth>^r If 
 your crimes have been great, so have your wrongs; and 
 let him who is without sin cast the f^rst stone." 
 
 The hands of father and son met in a strong, earnest clasp • 
 but the outlaw's face was averted, and his strong chest rose 
 and tell like the waves of a tempest-tossed sea. 
 
 At this moment the curtain was pushed aside, and the 
 l-renchwoman Marguerite, stood before them. 
 
 " Well, Marguerite ? " said the «»utlaw, looking up. 
 
 " Did you expect any of the men to return to-night > " she 
 asked, looking with the same glance of sharp suspicion 
 from one to the other. 
 
 " No. Why ? " 
 
 " Some of them are without ; they have given the signal " 
 
 " Oh, well, tell Bart to await them. I did not expert 
 them, but something may have brought them back. Admit 
 them at once." 
 
 The woman turned and left the room, aud the outlaw 
 looking at Ray, said, with a sad smile : 
 
 "Poor Marguerite! she has been faithful tlirough all 
 clinging to me with a love of which I am utterly unworthy' 
 I'oor Marguerite ! she was deserving of a better fate." 
 
 " I '^I'pposc she has now quite recovered from the loss of 
 her child," said Ray. 
 
 !! f 
 
THE ATTACK. 
 
 363 
 
 :e aught to 
 o go, and to 
 wish to see 
 is better as 
 ler, and re- 
 ove of my 
 y me." 
 Droud, cold 
 iicholy, the 
 rs that did 
 le over and 
 
 •; "it was 
 ly. These 
 lat for the 
 rehend all 
 11 ; and as 
 jeth^-r. If 
 Dngs; and 
 
 lest clasp ; 
 chest rose 
 
 , and the 
 
 ip. 
 
 E;ht ? " she 
 suspicion 
 
 e signal." 
 ot expect 
 :. Admit 
 
 e outlaw. 
 
 ■ough all, 
 in worthy, 
 te." 
 le loss of 
 
 «« Never 1 she has never been the same since. Dear 
 Rita 1 sweet little angel I Oh 1 Raymond, I loved that child 
 as " 
 
 The sentence was interrupted in a blood-chilling manner 
 
 enough. .,,1 ^ 
 
 From the distant entrance of the cave came a wild shout 
 of alarm, then an exulting cheer, lost in the sharp report of 
 firearms and the trampling of many feet. 
 
 "Ha! what means this?" exclaimed the outlaw, as he 
 dashed the curtain aside, and, closely followed by Ray, stood 
 in the outer apartment. 
 
 The men were already on their feet, gazmg m alarm m 
 each other's faces, and involuntarily grasping their weapons. 
 In the midst of them stood Pet and the Frenchwoman, listen- 
 ing in surprise and vague alarm. 
 
 Still the noise continued. Shouts, cheers, the trampling 
 of feet, and the report of firearms, all commingling together. 
 At the same instant Black Bart and two others rushed m, 
 all covered with blood, and shouting : , r- . 
 
 " Betrayed I betrayed I that devil's whelp, Rozzel Garnet, 
 has betrayed us, and the revenue-officers are upon us red 
 hot. Here they come with that cursed white-livered dog 
 among them," yelled Black Bart, as he rushed in. 
 
 " Come with me, this is no place for us," said the woman 
 Marguerite, as she seized Pet by the arm, and dragged her 
 into the inner apartment. . 
 
 In rushed the officers of the law, some twenty in all, three 
 times the number of the smugglers ; and their leader, in a 
 loud, authoritative voice, commanded them to lay down their 
 arms and surrender in the name of the law. 
 
 " Go to the devil I " was Black Bart's civil reply, as he 
 took deliberate aim, and sent a bullet whistling through 
 the heart of the unfortunate man. r n * u • 
 
 A' shout of rage arose from the officers at the fall ot their 
 leader, and they rushed precipitately upon the outlaws. 
 But their welcome was a warm one ; for the pirates, well- 
 knowing what would be their fat^i if captured alive, fought 
 like demons, and soon the uproar in the vaults grew 
 
 fearful. . . , , 
 
 " On, my brave fellows, on ! " shouted Captain Reginaia ; 
 " death here, if we must die, sooner than on the gallows. 
 
<«•*»»■" 
 
 
 364 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 H:i.t;tsirau„^°:::ip«;,^"«' ""= ^"-^ -'-a, vnu.-n. 
 
 asthesmufSernere'Thl'''' 11" '""™' ' >»" Operate 
 
 three timesfhlTnrb; ^n'°"Je1teT^l°"fr";''' '^^"^ 
 than themselves. The revenue „ffl "m^d /nd prepared 
 
 in an incredibly sl,ort space of tinfeT "^"'f^ °" *<^"' ' ='"d 
 were securely bound, Se rh ee 1 e' 1!//''^ ^""^giers 
 
 on, he bloodstained. ■slipperJfl^^rof.heTave '"' "'^^ 
 Three times during the conflirf h,^ ,1 , 
 
 maine interposed to save .Afn h • r "^ ^™ "=' ^=')' G"- 
 
 the desperal^on of mTd„eS But hi "s'i'nHe''' '""«'" "'"■■ 
 availing to turn thp f.^rf, ^ r ^'"^'^ ^™ was un- 
 
 fallin/help,es"s on" ve "'side of ":;,'"l';f f " "'^ "» 
 w.th such desperate fierceness ^hatTh. ' '"' ^""g'" °" 
 
 is'/rS.- -'- »" ^o^e ^^-^^eir^^rto^d:?.^: 
 ous^b'uHhf jLrrrwti'i^jr "r,°f "^ ^^^- ™'-'- 
 
 their number lay wounded or df' '°[ '"""^ 'han ''''If 
 paused now drew .iTn„ 1 ^f ''*'"'' °" ""e floor Thev 
 off their heltedTnd in^SL'e'tcer' ^'""'' '"^ P^^"'™"- 
 
 H:^°Sfo™'j?;,r*;iii:?;r:;tr'''^'i^^ ™ '"^ ^™™<'- 
 "■"V?i^re:s'?.hr"r"^^^^^^^^^^^ '"' '""^ 
 
 her before I die and^eMm,, „ Marguerite ; I would see 
 to God I could see hrrl^^^ • ""^ P"" '"Other-would 
 
 starting up ; " and vou shnli c ^^^J"^^"^^.^ ^^y> impetuously, 
 Mr.Chesny>heaSd .? / .^'^^ ^" 'P'*^ °^ ^hem all 
 revenue<>ffi^cers 'tni Vou "^ %'^'' P'-^^-"^ leader of the 
 
 bearCaptainR;ginalL^ntoO!HT; '°"!^ °^ 3^°"'- "^^" ^o 
 ly p M ^ gina^cl up to Old Barrens Cottage immedlate- 
 
 The gentleman addressed. wi,o i..„... x, 
 turned round in surnrisp t^ f/'u ""''/' ■^^>' i»tunate y, 
 a ^n surprise. In the heat of the conflict-W had 
 

 5*-.-j*WiowiB*is ji; ' 
 
 THE ATTACK. 
 
 365 
 
 ernal villain. 
 
 ind a shriek 
 the air, and 
 
 t desperate 
 
 out against 
 
 d prepared 
 
 them ; and 
 
 smugglers 
 
 and dead 
 
 ' Ray Ger- 
 
 ought with 
 1 was un- 
 V his men 
 fought on 
 officers at 
 funded to 
 
 re victori- 
 than half 
 >r. They 
 rspiration 
 
 e ground. 
 It beside 
 
 have re- 
 ould see 
 r — would 
 ile a look 
 ace. 
 
 etuously, 
 them all. 
 er of the 
 
 men to 
 mediate- 
 
 luiately, 
 t.W had 
 
 not perceived him, and now he looked his astonishment at 
 the unexpected rencontre. 
 
 " You here, Mr. Germaine 1 " he exclaimed. ** Why, how 
 comes this ? " 
 
 " I was brought here a prisoner — never mind that, " said 
 Ray, impatiently ; " will you permit me to have this wounded 
 man removed ? " 
 
 " Impossible, my dear fellow. He is the notorious leader 
 of this villainous gang — an outlaw with a price on his head. 
 I am responsible for his safe delivery into the hands of 
 justice," 
 
 " And those hands he will never reach ! Do you not see 
 he is dying ? " said Ray, passionately. " Look at him, 
 Chesny, do you think you could bring him to Judestown in 
 that state ? Do you think he would ever reach it alive ? " 
 
 " Mr. Germaine, I should like to oblige you — " 
 
 " Do it, then. Let me take him to the cottage, and I will 
 be responsible for his not escaping. Nonsense, Chesny \ 
 You see it is impossible for him to be taken further. You 
 must have him taken there. Sure some of you may guard 
 the house if you fear his escaping." 
 
 " Be it so, then. Come, boys, construct something to carry 
 this wounded man to Old Barrens Cottage on. Hallo ! Miss 
 Lawless, by all that's glorious 1 " exclaimed the officers as 
 Pet, with Marguerite, appeared from the inner room. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Chesny ? Oh, what a dreadful 
 night this has been 1 " said Pet, with a shudder. " Good 
 Heavens! is Captain Reginald dead ?" she exclaimed, in 
 consternation. 
 
 " No ; wounded only ; he is to be conveyed to Old Barrens 
 Cottage. How in the world did you get here, Miss Pet ? " 
 
 " Oh, they carried me off. Rozzel Garnet did." 
 
 " Well, you are the last he will carry off, I fancy. Here-- 
 he lies 1 " said the man, touching the stark, ghastly form 
 slightly with his foot. 
 
 " Dead 1 " said Pet, turning pale. 
 
 " Yes ; the smuggler-chief there sent a bullet through him 
 the first thing ; and served him right, too, for peaching as 
 he did, the mean cuss 1 Hurry up, boys 1 Oh I you've got 
 through, i see. Lift him on it, now — gently, gently, there ; 
 you have stopped the blood, I see, Germaine ; that's right. 
 
 II 
 
 PI 
 
 r n 
 
f 
 
 i 
 
 •M.: 
 
 366 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 Ha I whom have we here ? " he exclnim^^ o u- 
 
 the woman MamueritP wh« "^ exciamied, as his eyes fell on 
 
 side she knelt, S he hea/of tir' '^^'.^^ '^^ ^^^ ^^ose 
 breast, and gently wiped he coM T'i"^'^ ^^'^^ "" ^er 
 
 is the woman ;> " ^ '^°''^ ^"^^^^ ^^ ^'s face. " Who 
 
 pa::3^r^^kSiS:j;;;"J- ^-^- '^^- her accom. 
 this den of horrors ? ' ' ' ^°" ^'^^^P' '"X escort from 
 
 so's^r'^ry^'cam^^^^^^^^ And oh lam 
 
 liked hL ?eal wellr.'^""'" '^ "°""^^^- ^^ you know!^ 
 
 throJh^^:^:nrsh;t^-k|,^^^ ^^ drew Pet's arm 
 
 "The mtr ''-'V^ -^:^e'ar^,^wh• r^^ '''''^' '^ 
 ^^^'^rZ;^^^^^^^^^ Captain Reginald 
 
 uttered but one passionTte exclamatio^Tn'"''; "^° ^^^ 
 silent, and then came Ray and P.T ?^ fol owed, still and 
 nue^fficers bringing up the rear Vf^^ ^ /'^ ""^ '^' '^^^- 
 sion passed from the gloomy cave n ''^^T^J'^y Proces- 
 horrors, with its bloody and unbur^eH T^'"''""^ ^ ^^^^ ^^ 
 long, deep breath of intense reUe IJTu^ \'"^ ^^' ^rew a 
 stood once more in the open air thankfulness as she 
 
 -7st"tTe he" rf"shet not f^'" ''"'"^^ '" ^^^ ^^t. ^^ It 
 like, I will ride to Judestor^^^^^^^ ^"^ ^^^"' ^^ you 
 
 no danger now." '''^'^°'^" ^^'^ 'he doctor. There can be 
 
 Ray, who would not leavp hJc r.^-u 
 darted off over the slippery shinl ' f °"«t" ted ; and Pet 
 young mountain deer X 3'^ ^""^ "P ^^e rocks like a 
 their burden, who lay with hi^wWte"ff°'''^'^ '^^^^'^^ ^^^h 
 so enjn starlight ; and who n^^y 11 the bitT^K?^ '" "^^ ^^«' 
 ful thoughts of the dark sormwf ^'■' '''"er, remorse- 
 
 heart there. Ray and Mar^u^^^^^^^^ ^'''> ^^^"'"^ in his proud 
 mute, too. He with }W?'?^ °" ^^^h side, were 
 
 ground, and on the wound dT/'^'f"^^^'^ '^-^ - the 
 the astounding revdations T?u ^'''' ^'^^^^ to realize 
 
 straight before her Inrthe rf/rt' "'^'^' ' ^^^^ ^^^^ing 
 look of fierce, sullen de-n^?'' ^'^^ ^^' customar? 
 
 wretched, brok^n-heanedToran^^^'"^ "'^^ ^'^ -«"- 
 There were lights and a subdued bustle in the cottage 
 
■^*.*»^<t«w««i r «>>. w'*«fe >ywiijwa*i^t.wsfe»aTO!>»tMt»H<^ 
 
 THE ATTACK. 
 
 367 
 
 eyes fell on 
 e by whose 
 hief on her 
 ce. " Who 
 
 ler accom- 
 scort from 
 
 oh, I am 
 u know, I 
 
 Pet's arm 
 startled to 
 
 Reginald 
 who had 
 still and 
 the reve- 
 y proces- 
 cave of 
 et drew a 
 is as she 
 
 *et. " It 
 n, if you 
 e can be 
 
 and Pet 
 ks like a 
 vly with 
 the sad, 
 emorse- 
 is proud 
 e, were 
 on the 
 realize 
 looking 
 itomary 
 was — a 
 
 cottage 
 
 when they reached it. Erminie, white and trembling, met 
 them at the door. Pet had told her all so breathlessly, and 
 then had mounted Ray's horse and darted off for Judes- 
 town so quickly, that Erminie even yet only half compre- 
 hended what had taken place. 
 
 There was no time now for explanation, however. The 
 wounded man was laid on the large, soft lounge in the par- 
 lor ; and then Chesny, leaving one of his men as guard, 
 more for form's sake than anything else, took his depart- 
 ure. 
 
 " Where is my grandmother, Erminie ? " asked Ray, whose 
 white, stern face, had terrified her from the first. 
 " In bed." 
 
 " Then go up and waken her." 
 " Waken her at this hour I Why, Ray 1 " 
 " Yes ; you must, I tell you. Go at once," 
 Ray's fiercely-impatient manner and strange excitement 
 terrified Erminie more and more : but still she ventured to 
 lift up her voice in feeble expostulation. 
 
 " What good will it do to arouse her - She can be of no 
 service here." 
 
 " Erminie, I tell you, you must 1 " passionately exclaimed 
 Ray; "else I will go myself. Of no service here ! Yonder 
 dying man is ner son — her long-lost son — supposed to have 
 been drownec. Will you go, now ? " 
 
 One moment's astounded pause, and then Erminie flew 
 up-stairs, and entered the aged gipsy's room. 
 
 She was lying asleep, but she never slept soundly, and 
 she opened her eyes and looked up as Erminie entered. 
 '' W'tVi, what is the matter ? " she said, curtly. 
 •« Oh, grandmother I you must get up 1 " cried Erminie, 
 in strong agitation. " There is a man down-stairs wishes to 
 see you." 
 
 " A man wishmj^ to see me ? What do you mean ? " 
 asked the gipsy, kn Iti..;^' her c'ark brows. 
 
 " Oh, grandmother ! ''-» 'c is news of — of — your son." 
 " My son ! are you »" mg mad, girl ? " cried Ketura, get- 
 ting up on her elbows unassisted, for the first time in years ; 
 and glaring upon her with her hollow, lurid eyes. 
 
 " Oh, grandmother 1 grandmother 1 we were deceived 
 — you were deceived — Ray says he was not drowned." 
 
%*4^ 
 
 
 fV 
 
 368 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 '' No ; It was a false report. He lives 1 " 
 
 dea'^^^l^nce^'tlTJ ni.'ff7he^^""^^' 7'^ '^' ^-^-^ the 
 The effort waf a'/aiS' SleTeH ^ack thUe^^"^^ T ^•"• 
 was distorted with wildest agonv ' ''"'^ ^""^"^^ 
 
 " Girl 1 girl I what have you said ? " she cried out «< ua 
 you say my son-my Regi'nald-lives ? '' °"^' ^'^ 
 
 vacantly, her hands soZht'ly cTenchei \?^^Y^<:\'oW.g 
 into the skin. It wa« ,„ti.l, clenched that the nails sunk 
 
 or comprehend whit she had h'T-'' "°' >"« f»'ly '^^li« 
 her, numbing :n~:ndte,?n:^ ""e words had stunned 
 
 a gentlLanl^.X"/lTiro?lfr,"'fr'"''!''"« '""= 
 
 ' i9™-:s|ts ^ot^r!::r%o-~ ■'..- -- 
 
 pau''s:^d:hlrh tw^ ^re^vo"" ""<',''-" t^:- room, but 
 
 Kay aTKS ^-h^^ I?" ^l^? /.TLSn^d ''-"■" ^^ 
 
 Vol'ZT.^rot't'il^JV^T •^■- "°^ the gaunt, 
 
 and worn by uLss fnd °Z ,T' "'y^?'^-'^"^'"'- «""^<i 
 
 now. Ray took her in h^'^" ™' ^^ ""'' "'">' ""'=''• 
 
 tly in her L g: elbow-cha r an°d"^thr' '"" Pj"."" ''" S^"" 
 h*-r K«i^,.. ^ ^"a^"^' ^"^ then proceeded to convP« 
 
,»M«(WV«t.rt»»S1l««! 
 
 her face 
 
 making the 
 ^e to rise, 
 y feature 
 
 t. 
 
 Did 
 
 ice more 
 ' Hasten, 
 
 Jd it, and 
 55. The 
 3 rolling 
 lils sunk 
 y realize 
 stunned 
 
 oceeded 
 ing like 
 :n stuflF. 
 •St, and 
 >, trying 
 11 lived. 
 Ray. 
 ! asked. 
 
 m, but 
 
 his ear. 
 iide her 
 instant, 
 
 ," said 
 
 gaunt, 
 
 wasted 
 
 lifted, 
 
 -T gen- 
 
 J. 
 
 THE ATTACK. 
 
 369 
 
 I 
 
 She laid her hand on his arm, and looked up in his face 
 with a piteous look. 
 
 " Oh, Ray 1 what have you told me ? Is Reginald liviner 
 still?" ^ B 
 
 It was so strange and so sad to hear her — that haughty, 
 fierce, passionate woman — speak in a tone like that, quick 
 tears rushed to the gentle eyes of Erminie, 
 
 " Yes, he IP living— he is down-stairs; but he has only 
 come here t -.^e 1 " answered Ray, hurriedly. 
 
 " Oh, Reginald I Reginald I Oh, my son ! thank God for 
 this 1 " she passionately cried out. 
 
 For many and many a year that sacred name had never 
 crossed her lips. It sent a thrill, now, through the heart of 
 Ray, as he bore her into the room where the wounded man 
 lay. 
 
 Who shall describe that meeting ? Long, long years of 
 darkest crime and wildest woe had intervened since that 
 lowering, lamentable day on which they had parted last. 
 Years full of change, and sorrow, and sin, and remorse 
 — years that had changed the powerful, passionate, majestic 
 gipsy queen into the helpless, powerless paralytic she was 
 now — years that had changed the handsome, high-spirited, 
 gallant youth into the bronzed, hardened, guilty man lying 
 there dying — passing slowly out into the dread unknown. 
 Yet, despite time, and change, and years, they knew each 
 other at the first glance. 
 
 " Mother," said the smuggler, with a faint, strange smile. 
 
 " Oh, my son ! my son ! Oh, my Reginald I my only son 1 " 
 was her passionate cry. " Has the great sea given up its 
 dead, that I see you again ? " 
 
 " You with all the world were deceived, mother. When I 
 am gone, you will learn all. Mother, I have only come 
 here to die." 
 
 Her feeble arms were clasped around him ; she did not 
 seem to heed his words, as her devouring eyes were riveted 
 on his face. He lay breathing quickly and laboriously, his 
 face full of bitter sadness as he saw the wreck of what had 
 once been his mother. The woman Marguerite had drawn 
 back, and stood gazing on Ketura with a sort of still amaze. 
 Kay was leaning against the mantel, his elbow resting on it, 
 and his face shaded by his dark, falling hair ; and Erminie, 
 
370 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 crouched on a low sea , wlute and trembling, sat watchin/? 
 all. So they remained for a long time, the dull, heavy tick- 
 mg of the clock and a death wat'-h on the wall alone brok- 
 ing the dreamy silence. It was an eerie scene and an eerie 
 hour and a feelmg of strange awe made Erminie hold her 
 very breath, wondering how this strange, unnatural silence 
 was to cncl. 
 
 The quick, shar] gallop of horses' feet broke it, at last • 
 and the next mstant. Pet, flushed and excii. d, burst in, fol- 
 lowed by the doctor and by Ranty. All paused in the door- 
 way and stood regarding with silent wonder, the scene be- 
 tore them, 
 
 Ray lifr.-d his head, and going over, touched Ketura on 
 the arm, saynig, m a low voice : 
 
 " Leave him for a moment ; here is the doctor come to 
 examme his wounds." 
 
 h.^!iV?'''KT'''^^'"^^^'">'""^'^'P^^'^"d '^^ permitted 
 herself to be borne away. Of ail the strange things that 
 
 had ccrurred that night none seemed stranger to Ray than this 
 sudden and wonderful quietude that had come over his 
 herce, passionate grandmc iher. 
 
 The doctor approached his patient to examine his wounds, 
 and Pet, gomg over, began conversing in a low tone with 
 Erminie, telhng her how she had encountered Ranty. Ray 
 stood watching the doctor, with interest and anxirty ; and 
 as, after a prolonged examination, he arose, he appro, had 
 him and said, hurriedly : , pi^ uc ucu 
 
 " Well, doctor .? " 
 
 The doctor shook his head. 
 
 -ife may linger two, three days, perhaps, but certainly 
 nut ^'jnger. Nothing can save him." ^ 
 
 Ray's very breath seemed to stop as he listened, till it 
 became painful for those around to listen for its return. 
 
 a rolT "'^" ^'""'^^ ^""^^"^ "P ^""^ beckoned Ray to 
 "I knew I was done for," he said, with a feeble smile. 
 I was sur-geon enough to know it was a mortal wound. 
 How long does he say I may live ? " 
 
 " Two or three days," said Ray,' in a choking voice. 
 So long ?" said the smuggler, a dark shade passing over 
 ills lace. " i uid not think to cumber the earth such a 
 

 THE TTACK. 
 
 371 
 
 3r come to 
 
 length of time. How does she bear it ?" pointing to his 
 mother. 
 
 " She has not heard it yet ; she setms to have fallen into 
 a kind of unnatural apathy. The si ' has been too much 
 foi iier." 
 
 " Poor ni. ler ! "he said, in that me tone of bitter re- 
 m rse Ray had heard him use bi i. " her worst crime 
 was loving me 00 well. Bring her her( I have soniethinj^ 
 to say to her which may as well be said now." 
 
 Ray carried over the almost motionless fortn of the aged 
 gipsy. The stricken lioness was a pitiable sight in her aged 
 helplessness. 
 
 " Mother," said the smuggler, taking the withered, black- 
 ened hand in his, and looking sa ily in the vacant face, that 
 seemed striving to comprehend wh; ' had stunned her and 
 bewildered her so strangely 
 
 His voice recalled her a;^ nd she turned her hollow 
 
 eyes upon him. Awful eyes were — like red-hot coals in 
 
 a bleached skull. 
 
 " Mother, listen to me. I have but a short time to live, 
 and I cannot die till I learn if you have kept your vow of 
 vengeance, made long ago against Lord De Courcy." 
 
 " I have ! I have ! " she exclaimed, rousing to something 
 like her old fierceness. " Oh, Reginald 1 you have been 
 avenged. I have wrung "drops of blood from their hearts, 
 even as they wrung them from mine. Yes, yes I I have 
 avenged you I They, too, know what it is to lose a child 1 " 
 
 " Mother I mother 1 what have you done ? " 
 
 " I stole their child I their infant daughter the heiress of 
 all the De Courcys, the last of her line I Yes, I stole her 1 " 
 She fairly shrieked now, with blazing eyes. " I vowed to 
 bring her up in sin and pollution, and 1 would have done so, 
 too, if I had not been stricken with a living death. Oh, 
 Reginald ! your mother avenged you ! A child for a child I 
 They banished you, and I stole their heir 1 " 
 
 " Oh, mother ! mother ! what is this you have done — where 
 is that child now ? " 
 
 " Yonder ! " cried the gipsy, with a sort of fierce, passion- 
 ate cry, pointing > e shaking finger toward the terrified 
 Erminie ; " there siie stands ; Erminie Seyton, the heiress of 
 the Earl and Countess De Courcy. The daughter of an earl 
 
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 (716) 482 -0300 -Phone 
 
 (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax 
 
,.4- - || ')( 
 
 372 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 I: 'i 
 
 fit' 
 
 i'":; 
 
 has toiled like a menial for your mother, Reginald, all her 
 life. There she stands's the lost daughter and heiress of 
 Lord De Courcy 1 " 
 
 An awful silence fell for a moment on all, broken first by 
 the impetuous Ranty Lawless. 
 
 "Lord and Lady De Courcy 1 why, they are here in 
 America— in Baltimore, now. Good heavens I can our Erminie 
 be anything to them ? Oh, I knew she was ; I saw the likeness 
 the very first moment we met." 
 
 " Who says Lord and Lady De Courcy are here ? " cried 
 the smuggler, half-rising himself in his excitement. 
 
 " I do ! " said Ranty, stepping forward ; " they came out 
 in our ship, and I was with them as far as Washington city. 
 Last night, I learned that they had arrived at Baltimore, 
 where a friend of Lady De Courcy's, an Englishman, is resid- 
 ing." 
 
 All he had heard, all that had passed before, nothing had 
 affected him like that. His chest rose and fell with his long, 
 hard, labored breathing and his face, white before, was livid 
 now as that of the dead. 
 
 " So near ! so near 1 Can it be that I will see her once 
 more ? And her child here, too, where is she ? I must see 
 her ! " 
 
 Ray, who had listened like one transfixed to his grand- 
 mother's revelations, made a motion to Erminie to approach. 
 Unable to comprehend or realize what she heard, she came 
 ever and sunk down on her knees beside him. 
 
 He took her hand in his, and pushed back the pale golden 
 hair off her brow, and gazed long and earnestly in her pale 
 but wondrous lovely young face. 
 
 " Her father's eyes and hair, and features ; her mother's 
 form and expression ; the noble brow and regal bearing of 
 her father's race spiritualized and softened. Yes, a true De 
 Courcy, and yet like her mother, too. Ray come here." 
 
 He went over and took his place Erminie, 
 
 " Do you know she is your sister, your mother's child ? " 
 asked the wounded man. 
 
 " I know it now ; I did not before," was the awe-struck 
 answer. 
 
 " V'ou have heard she is in Baltimore ? " 
 "I have." 
 
mmsmum 
 
 iMiiMiiBli 
 
 LADY MAUDE. 
 
 373 
 
 " Then go there, immediately ; ride as you never before in 
 your life, and tell them all. Bring her here ; I would see her 
 again before I die." 
 
 Ray started to his feet. 
 
 " Tell her who you are, yourself — her son ; it will be better 
 so. When they learn their long-lost daughter is here they v/ill 
 need no incentive to have them haste. One act of justice 
 must be rendered before I die." 
 
 " Let me accompany you," said Ranty, as Ray started 
 from the house. " I know exactly where to find them. 
 Saints and angels 1 where will the revelations of this night 
 end ? 
 
 There was no reply from Ray ; he could make none ; his 
 brains were whirling as if mad. He sprung on his horse ; 
 Ranty followed, and in another instant they were flying on 
 like the wind toward Judestown, 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVHI. 
 
 er mother's 
 
 LADY MAUDE. 
 -With wild surprise 
 
 As if to marble struck, devoid of sense, 
 A moment motionless she stood." 
 
 — Thomson. 
 
 In an elegantly-farnished room, in a most elegant privai 
 mansion, a lady, still young and exceedingly beautiful, sat 
 with her head leaning on her hand, her eyes fixed thought- 
 fully and somewhat sadly on the floor. A little paler the 
 noble brow, and a little graver and sweeter the lovely face, 
 and a little more passive and less proud the soft, dark eyes ; 
 but in all else Maude, Countess De Courcy, was unchanged. 
 The rich, black hair, still fell in fleecy, silken ringlets round 
 the sweet, moonlit face ; the tender smile was as bright and 
 beautiful, and the graceful form as superb and faultless as 
 ever. There was a dreamy, far-off look in her dark, beauti- 
 ful eyes, as she watched the setting sun — a look that seemed 
 to say her thoughts were wandering in the far-off regions of 
 the shadowv past. 
 
 The lady was not alone. Half-buried in the downy 
 depths of a velvet-cushioned lounge reclined a proud, haugh- 
 
 .•^^-. ^ .*»;i**itutmfiaii^-^ 
 
,■••<- fl f 
 
 374 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 
 ty, somewhat supercilious-looking young lady, most magnifi- 
 cently dressed. She was handsome, too — very handsome — 
 despite her tossy, consequential air ; but Lady Rita, only 
 daughter and heiress of Lord De Courcy, might be par- 
 doned for feeling herself somebody above the common. Her 
 form was slight and girlish, but perfect in all its proportions, 
 and displayed to the best advantage by her elegant robe ; 
 her complexion was dark as a Spaniard's, but the large, 
 black eyes and shining black hair, of purplish luster, were 
 magnificent. Diamond pendants flashed and glittered in 
 her small ears, glaring through the shadowy masses of rich, 
 jetty hair, whenever she moved, like sparks of fire. In one 
 hand she held a richly-inlaid fan, and with the other she 
 languidly patted a beautiful little Blenheim spaniel that 
 crouched at her feet and watched her with his soft, tender, 
 brown eyes. 
 
 " Mamma," said the young lady, looking up after a pause. 
 
 The countess gave a slight start, like one suddenly awa- 
 kened from a reverie, drew a deep breath, and turned round. 
 
 " Well, my dear," she said. 
 
 " What was that papa and Mr. Leicester were saying this 
 morning about smugglers, or outlaws, or som i other sort of 
 horrors that were near here ? " 
 
 " Oh, Mr, Leicester was only telling your papa that there 
 were some of these people hidden down in a country town, 
 but a considerable distance from this. It seems they forci- 
 bly abducted a young lady not long since ; quite a celebrated 
 beauty, too, and most respectable." 
 
 " Dear me 1 what a dreadful place this must be, where 
 such things are permitted," jaid the young lady, shrugging 
 her shoulders ; " you don't think there " ny danger of their 
 attacking us, mamma ? " 
 
 "No, I think not," said Lady Maude, smiling; "you 
 need not alarm yourself, my dear ; those desperate people 
 are a long way off, and are probably arrested before this. 
 You need not alarm yourself in the least." 
 
 There was a tap at the door at this moment, and the next 
 a servant entered to announce : 
 
 " Gentlemen down-stairs wishing to see Ladv De Courcy." 
 
 " Did they send up their namesl" " said the 'lady. 
 
 " No, my lady. One of them said he wanted to see you 
 
■MMfyaM 
 
 iiMiifiaii 
 
 I,ADY MAUDE. 
 
 375 
 
 iost magnifi- 
 liandsome — 
 J Rita, only 
 ght be par- 
 imon. Her 
 proportions, 
 egant robe ; 
 t the large, 
 luster, were 
 glittered in 
 sses of rich, 
 re. In one 
 J other she 
 paniel that 
 soft, tender, 
 
 ter a pause, 
 idenly a wa- 
 rned round. 
 
 saying this 
 ther sort of 
 
 1 that there 
 
 untry town, 
 
 they forci- 
 
 . celebrated 
 
 be, where 
 , shrugging 
 ger of their 
 
 ing; " you 
 ■ate people 
 •efore this. 
 
 id the next 
 
 )e Courcy." 
 
 y- 
 
 to see you 
 
 t 
 
 i 
 
 on most important business, but he did not send his name." 
 
 '< On important business ? Who can it be ? " said Lady 
 
 Maude, somewhat surprised. " Very well, I will be down 
 
 directly." 
 
 Ten minutes after the drawing-room door opened, two 
 gentlemen, both young, arose and returned her bow. 
 
 But why, after the first glance, does every trace of color 
 fly from the face of Lady De Courcy ? Why do her eyes 
 dilate and dilate as they rest on the dark, handsome face of 
 one of her visitors ? Why does she reel as if struck a blow, 
 and grasp a chair near for support. And why, standing 
 the'-e, and holding it tightly, does her eyes still remain 
 riveted to his face, while her breath comes quick and hard ? 
 
 Reader, she sees standing before her the living embodi- 
 ment of her early girlhood — he whom she thinks buried far 
 under the wild sea 1 
 
 " Lady De Courcy, I believe ? " said the young gentleman, 
 his own face somewhat agitated. 
 
 His voice, too 1 
 
 Lady Maude, feeling as though siiS should faint, sunk in- 
 to a chair, and forced herself to say : 
 
 " Yes, sir. And yours — " 
 
 She paused. 
 
 " Is Raymond Germaine." 
 
 Germaine, too— ///j name ' What feeling was it that set 
 her heart beating so wildly as she gazed on that dark, hand- 
 some face, and manly form. 
 
 He seemed moved, too, but in a less degree than the lady. 
 
 There was no time to lose, and he began, hurriedly : 
 
 " Madam, excuse my seeming presumption, but may I 
 beg to ask : Were you not married before — before you be- 
 came the wife of the present Earl De Courcy ? " 
 
 The room seemed swimming around her. Had the sea 
 given up Its dead, that Reginald Germaine should thus 
 stand before her ? From her white, trembling Ups, there 
 dropped an almost inaudible. 
 
 "Yesl" 
 
 " And you h^d a child— a son— by that marriage ? " went 
 on Ray, who lelt circumlocution, under the present circum- 
 stances, would be useless. 
 
 Another trembUng " Yes 1 " from the pallid lips. 
 
376 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ('■ !'• 
 
 " You were told he died ? " 
 
 She bent her head, silent and speechless. 
 
 " Madam— Lady De Courcy— they deceived you. That 
 child did not die ! " 
 
 White and tottering, she arose and stood on her feet. 
 
 " He did not die. Reginald Germaine told you so for his 
 own ends. That child lived I " 
 
 Her lips parted, but no sound came forth ; her eyes, wild 
 now, were riveted to the face of the speaker. 
 
 " The child lived, grew up, was brought *o America, and 
 lives still." 
 
 " Oh, saints in heaven 1 What do I hear ? My son— my 
 child lives still ! Heaven of heavens 1 You wear the face 
 and form of Reginald Germaine — can it be that you " 
 
 " Even so, madam, Countess De Courcy, I am his son 
 and yours! " 
 
 Was it his bold, open face, or her mother's heart, that told 
 Lady Maude he spoke the truth ? With a mighty cry, she 
 held out her arms, and the next moment he was clasped in 
 a wild embrace. 
 
 The other young gentleman seemed suddenly to have 
 found some very absorbing prospect out of the window that 
 completely enchained his attention, and rendered the fre- 
 quent use of his handkerchief necessary. He did not turn 
 round for nearly fifteen minutes, and then the new-found 
 mother and son were sitting together on the sofa, with their 
 hands clasped, talking in a low tone, while her eyes never 
 wandered from his face. 
 
 He was telling her the story of his father, of his escape, 
 of his subsequent life, of their meeting, and of his confes- 
 sion and dying request. 
 
 Lady Maude's face, as she listened, grew so white and 
 fixed and rigid that you might have thought it marble, save 
 for the horror unspeakable, the terrible look burning in the 
 great, black eyes. No word fell from her lips ; her very 
 heart seemed congealing, petrifying ; she sat like one trans- 
 formed to stone. 
 
 "And now, my dearest mother," said Ray, " I have an- 
 other revelation to make to you— one that, I hope, will in 
 some measure atone for the necessary pain the one 1 have 
 just been making has caused you." 
 
 |AH-ii«te.i<lKMBri^ftti 
 
MHHiii 
 
 .■utinmiiiim^ 
 
 mmmi^ti. 
 
 LADY MAUDE. 
 
 377 
 
 ou. That 
 
 r feet. 
 
 I so for his 
 
 eyes, wild 
 
 erica, and 
 
 f son — my 
 r the face 
 
 1 his son 
 
 :, that told 
 ' cry, she 
 lasped in 
 
 ' to have 
 dow that 
 the fre- 
 not turn 
 lew-found 
 vith their 
 i^es never 
 
 is escape, 
 s confes- 
 
 I'hite and 
 ble, save 
 ig in the 
 her very 
 3ne trans- 
 have an- 
 e, will in 
 le 1 have 
 
 She did not speak ; she sat as cold and white as marble. 
 
 <' You had another child— a daughter ? " he began, hesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 " I had ; she is lost 1 " said Lady Maude, m a tone so 
 altered that even Ranty started. 
 
 " Did she die ? " Ray asked, curiously. 
 
 " I do not know ; she was stolen, I think." 
 
 " Yes ; she was stolen. My grandmother, Ketura, whom 
 I have told you of — she stole her, and brought her here at 
 the same time she brought me." 
 
 There was a sort of gasp, and Lady Mav^e half-started 
 
 to her feet. 
 
 " Oh, my God 1 Tell me— tell me— is she— is she — 
 
 " She is alive and well, and knows all." 
 
 " Thank God— oh, thank God for this I " she cried, as 
 she sunk down and hid her face in her hands. 
 
 There was a long silence. Then Lady Maude, starting 
 to her feet, cried out, passionately : 
 
 " Where is she ?— where is she ? Take me to her 1 My 
 precious Erminie 1 my long-lost darling 1 Oh, Raymond, 
 take me to Erminie ! " 
 
 " Will you go now ? Ought not Lord De Courcy — " be- 
 gan Ray, hesitatingly, when she interrupted him with : 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes 1 He must hear all, and come with us, 
 too. Excuse me one moment. I think he must have 
 
 come." 
 
 She passed from the room, but oh, with a face so different 
 from that she wore when entering 1 Then she had fancied 
 herself childless, and now two had been given her, as if from 
 the dead. And Reginald Germaine, too — he whom she 
 thought lost at sea — was living yet, and she was to see him 
 once more. She trembled so, as she thought of him, that 
 she almost sunk down as she walked. 
 
 The two in the parlor saw a tall, distinguished-looking 
 man pass in through the front-door, and the next moment a 
 quick, decided footstep in the hall, and then a clear, pleasant 
 
 voice, saying : , , , „ 
 
 " Got back, you see, Maude. Why, what's the matter ? 
 Her reply was too low to be heard, but both passed up- 
 stairs together. 
 
 « Lord De Courcy," said Ranty, listening. 
 
 I 
 
'f*^ 
 
 378 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 V. 1 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ^' . 
 
 " I thought you said her ladyship knew you ? " said Ray. 
 •* She did not seem to do so while here." 
 
 " All your fault," said Ranty, <' You didn't give her time 
 to bless herself before you opened your broadside of loiock- 
 down facts ; and after hearing all the astounding and unex- 
 pected things you had to tell her, of course it couldn't be ex- 
 pected she could think of a common, every-day mortal like 
 me. Heigho 1 And so Erminie is a great lady now ? I 
 suppose I ought to be glad, Ray, but, if you'll believe it, up- 
 on my word and honor, I'm not. Of course, she'll have 
 hundreds of suitors, now ; and even if she loved .-ne — which 
 I don't suppose she did— that high and mighty seignior, her 
 father, wouldn't let her have anything to do with a poor 
 sailor. Ray, I tell you what, ever since I heard it I have 
 been wishing, in the most diabolical manner, that it migh", 
 turn out to be a false report. It may not sound friendly nor 
 Christian-like to wish it, Ray, but I do wish it— I wish she 
 had no*^ -> red cent in the world. I might have had some 
 chance, LJen." 
 
 Ray, looking earnestly and thoughtfully at the flowers in 
 the carpet, heard scarcely a word of this address. Ranty 
 watched him for a short time, as if waiting for an answer ; 
 and then leaning back in his chair, began whistling softly, 
 as if keeping up an accompaniment to his thoughts. 
 
 The moments passed on. Half an hour elapsed, then an 
 hour— an age it seemed to the impatient Ray. In his rest- 
 lessness, he paced rapidly up and down, with knit brows, 
 casting quick, restless glances at the door. 
 
 It opened at last, and Lady Maude, dressed as if for a 
 journey, entered, leaning on her husband's arm. Both were 
 very pale; and Lady Maude's eyes looked as if she had 
 been weeping. But she was more composed and natural- 
 looking than when she had left the room. 
 ^ Ray stopped in his walk, and met the eyes of Lord De 
 Courcy. 
 
 " Mr. Germaine," he said, holding out his hand, " for your 
 mother's sake, you must look upon me as a father 1 " 
 
 Ray bent over the hand he extended with a look of deep 
 gratitude, such as no words could express. 
 
 " Lady Maude has told nie all." continued his lordshin. 
 
 '-!^i:- w^-^'t. ^ .■Mt^.Mar 'M . i i iMrai 
 
m^mm 
 
 ) 
 
 said Ray. 
 
 e her time 
 of knock- 
 and unex- 
 dn't be ex- 
 lortal like 
 now ? I 
 eve it, up- 
 he'll have 
 le — which 
 gnior, her 
 :h a poor 
 it I have 
 : it migh- 
 iendly nor 
 wish she 
 had some 
 
 flowers in 
 5. Ranty 
 1 answer ; 
 ing softly, 
 
 1, then an 
 his rest- 
 lit brows, 
 
 5 if for a 
 Both were 
 she had 
 i natural- 
 Lord De 
 ' for your 
 k of deep 
 lordship- 
 
 LADY MAUDE. 
 
 379 
 
 " And at the request of the unhappy man whom you say is 
 dying, we will start with you immediately." 
 
 As Ray bowed, Ranty arose, and the earl caught sight of 
 
 him. . 
 
 «' Mr. Lawless," he exclaimed, in pleased surprise ; " I did. 
 not expect to meet you here. My dear, you remember the 
 gallant preserver of Rita's life ? " 
 
 Ranty actually blushed at the epithet, coming as it did 
 from the father of Erminie. 
 
 " Would you wish to see Lady Rita ? She is up-stairs." 
 " Thank you, my lord. Some other time I will have that 
 pleasure," answered Ranty. " At present, we have no time 
 to spare; every minute is precious." 
 
 Without further parley, the whole party left the house. A 
 carriage and fast horses were in waiting ; and a few moments 
 after they were on their way. 
 
 During the journey, there was a chance to explain every- 
 thing more fully than had yet been done, and Ray entered 
 willingly into all particulars. 
 
 Lord and Lady De Courcy seemed never tired of asking 
 
 questions concerning Erminie ; and Ray expatiated on her 
 
 goodness and beauty in a way to satisfy even the most exacting. 
 
 «' Being so beautiful, of course she might have had many 
 
 suitors ? " said Lady Maude, somewhat anxiously. 
 
 " She might have had, my dear mother." She seemed so 
 strongly attached to him already that it became quite natural 
 to Ray to call her mother. " But she would listen to none 
 of them." 
 
 «' Thank Heaven for that 1 " said Lady Maude, drawing a 
 deep breath of relief. " Then her affections are still her own ? ' 
 " On that point I am not informed. Perhaps," said Ray, 
 glancing at Ranty with a wicked look in his dark eyes, " Mr. 
 Lawless can throw a little light on the subject. He and 
 Erminie are very confidential friends 1 " 
 
 Poor Ranty reddened to the very roots of h hair under 
 the imputation, and the look that Lord and Laay Je Courcy 
 
 gave him. 
 
 " Never mind, my dear boy," said Lord De Courcy, kindly, 
 as he saw his confusion. " Erminie herself shall tell us all 
 about it when we see her." 
 
38o 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 M I ' 
 
 The thought of him who lay dying checked their joy at xi e 
 approaching reunion ; and the fear that he might' be de^i 
 hung like a pall over the heart of Ray. 
 
 On arriving at Judestown, they procured a conveyance 
 from Mr. Gudge, and started at a rapid pace for the Old 
 Barrens Cottage. 
 
 It was nearly dark when they reached it, and all around 
 was ominously silent and still. Ray's heart sunk as he 
 pushed open the door and entered. 
 
 The first person he encountered was Pet Lawless, who 
 uttered an exclamation of joy as she beheld him. 
 
 " Oh, Petronilla 1 is he alive yet ? " he asked. 
 
 " Just alive, and no more. The doctor says he has only 
 a few hours to live." 
 
 " Thank Heaven that we find him alive at all," said Ray. 
 
 Then motioning the others to follow, he passed into the 
 sitting-room. 
 
 Ii was tenanted only by the dying man and his wife, 
 Marguerite. She crouched beside him just as Ray had seen 
 her last— just as if she had never risen a second since. 
 
 The earl and countess followed, Ranty coming last. Lady 
 Maude trembled like an aspen, and clung to her husband's 
 arm for support. 
 
 " Father ! " said Ray, going over, and bending down. 
 
 He opened his eyes and looked up, vacantly at first, bift 
 with brighter light when he saw who it was. 
 
 " Back at last 1 " he exclaimed. " And her— have you 
 seen her ? '' 
 
 " She is here beside you. Come, my dearest mother I " 
 He supported the trembling form of Lady Maude to the 
 
 couch, and she sunk down beside it on her knees, and hid 
 
 her face in her hands. 
 
 A light seemed to flash into the wan face, lighting up the 
 
 sunken eyes of the dying man. He half-raised his hand, as 
 
 if to take hers, and then it fell heavily on the quilt. 
 
 ;I " he cried out, "can you forgive me 
 
 " Maude ! Maude 
 before I die ? " 
 
 She looked up, lifted her pale, beautiful face to his, laid 
 her hand on his pallid brow, and softly and sweetly murmured : 
 
 " Yes, as I hope to be forgiven. May God forgive vou. 
 
 
MH 
 
 joy at \i e 
 be deai 
 
 )nveyance 
 the Old 
 
 11 around 
 ik as he 
 
 less, who 
 
 has only 
 
 said Ray. 
 ; into the 
 
 his wife, 
 
 had seen 
 
 nee. 
 
 it. Lady 
 
 lusband's 
 
 )wn. 
 first, but 
 
 ave 
 
 you 
 
 ;her I " 
 de to the 
 , and hid 
 
 g up the 
 hand, as 
 
 rgive me 
 
 his, laid 
 irmured : 
 ive you. 
 
 1 
 
 LADY MAUDE. 
 
 381 
 
 spirit 
 
 His strong chest heaved, rose and fell, as if the 
 within were trying to burst its bonds before the time. 
 
 •« You have heard all, Maude ? " 
 
 u Yes ; all — all." 
 
 " And'you forgive me the great wrong I did you, Maude ? " 
 
 " Freely and fully, from my heart and soul." 
 
 "And you -.Till acknowledge our son when I am gone? 
 Oh, Maude 1 1 loved you through all. I was unworthy of 
 you ; but I loved you as none other loved before. Maude, 
 where is he ? " 
 
 " Who ? Reginald ? " 
 
 a Your— Lord De Courcy. Is he here ? " 
 
 " Yes. My dear old friend, I am sorry for this," said the 
 
 earl, stepping forward. , r j x^ r- 
 
 The dying rover held out his hand, and Lord De Courcy 
 took it in his strong clasp. 
 
 "I am glad you have come— f am glad you are her 
 protector through life. Do you remember our last parting, 
 Lord Ernest ? " 
 
 "That night? Yes." 
 
 " Ah 1 that night— that night I What a different man I 
 might have lived and died but for that dark, sorrowful night I 
 What trouble and sorrow that night caused you, tool It 
 turned my poor mother's brain, Lord Ernest ; and— she stole 
 your child 1 " 
 
 " I know it," 
 
 " Do you not want to see her 1— have you seen her ? 
 
 " Not yet. I will see her soon." 
 
 " Where is my daughter, Raymond ? " asked Lady Maude, 
 
 looking wistfully round. ^^ • i tj «. 
 
 "Up-stairs with her grandmother, madam, said Fet, 
 respectfully. " She does not know you are here. Shall I go 
 and tell her." 
 
 " Not just yet," said Lord De Courcy. " My dearest love, 
 subdue your impatience for a few moments— remember, you 
 are in the presence of the dying. You have waited for her 
 all these years— yr; can afford to wait a few moments 
 
 longer how." . 
 
 " How is my grandmother ? " asked Ray, :n i low tone, of 
 
 Pet 
 
 " The same as you saw her last— in a sort of dull stupor 
 
382 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 !l ^ 
 
 if *i 
 
 all the time ; neither see?, hears, nor feels, apparently. Ther 
 brought her upstairs this morning, and Erminie has been 
 with iier ^ince." 
 
 "How docs Erminie bear the news of her new-found 
 parents ? " 
 
 "Very quietly— with a sort of still, deep joy not be ex- 
 pressed in words. She says she always knew that sweet, 
 lovely lady with the soft, beautiful eyes was something to her! 
 used to come to her in dreams, or something— odd, ain't it? 
 And she's your mother, too, Ray I I declare, it's all the 
 strangest and most romantic thing I ever heard of 1 " 
 
 "We, too, have had our troubles,"' said the dying man, 
 making a faint motion toward Marguerite. " Perhaps it 
 was a just retribution of heaven for what you were made to 
 suffer. We, too lost a child ; had she lived, even I might 
 have been a different man to-day. She was lost, and all 
 that was originally good in my nature went with her. My 
 poor little Rita 1" ^ 
 
 " What did you say ? Rita I " exclaimed Maude, as she 
 and her husband gave a simultaneous start. 
 
 " Yes. Marguerite was her name ; Rita we always called 
 her — why ? " he asked, in surprise. 
 
 " She was lost, did you say ? How ? did she die ? " breath- 
 lessly demanded Lady Maude. 
 
 " No ; she was carried off, perhaps by gipsies— she was 
 kidnapped." 
 
 " How old was she at the time ? " 
 
 " About two years old— why ? " for the first time spoke the 
 woman Marguerite, starting up. 
 
 " Was she dark, with black hair and eyes." 
 " Yes, yes, yes ! O/i, Mon Dieu / why ? " 
 " Did she wear a cross upon her neck bearing the initials 
 * M. I. L. ? ' " wildly broke in Marguerite. " A little gold 
 cross with these letters, which was mine when I was a girl, 
 and stood for Marguerite Isabella Landry, my maiden name, 
 was round her neck. Oh, madam ! in heaven's name, do you 
 know anything of my child } " 
 
 " I do ! I do ! I found her, I brought her up as my own 
 and she lives with me now. Just Heaven 1 how mysterious 
 are thy ways I " exclaimed the awe-struck Lady Maude. 
 
LADY MAUDE. 
 
 383 
 
 itly. They 
 i has been 
 
 new-found 
 
 not be ex- 
 
 f^hat sweet, 
 ling to her, 
 Id, ain't it ? 
 it's all the 
 f I" 
 
 LJying man, 
 Perhaps it 
 re made to 
 ^n I might 
 St, and all 
 I her. My 
 
 de, as she 
 
 ays called 
 
 ? " breath- 
 
 — she was 
 
 spoke the 
 
 he initials 
 little gold 
 was a girl, 
 den name, 
 ne, do you 
 
 There was a wild cry, and the woman, Marguerite, fell 
 faintinr on the floor. 
 
 Ray bore her away in his arms, and Pet hastened out io 
 attend her. At the same moment a change came over the 
 face of the gipsy's son— a dark shadow from an mvisibla 
 wing— the herald of coming death. 
 
 Both held their breath. Great throes shook the strong 
 form before them, and the deathdew stood in great drops on 
 his brow. Lady Maude wiped them off, pale with awe. 
 
 The mighty death agony ceased at last and there came a 
 great calm. He opened his eyes and fixed them, with a look 
 of unspeakable love, on the face bending over him. 
 
 «' Maude," he whispered, in a voice so low that it was 
 scarcely audible, " say once more you forgive me." 
 
 She took his cold hand in both hers, md bending down, 
 touched her lips to his pale brow, while her tears fell fast on 
 
 The hand she held grew stiff in her clasp ; she lifted up her 
 head and her heart for an instant, almost ceased to beat. 
 Reginald Germaine, the wronged, the guilty, was dead 1 
 
 " May God have mercy on his soul 1 " fervently exclaimed 
 
 Lady Maude. . u j 
 
 " Amen," sadly and solemnly responded her husband. 
 Both arose. At the same moment the door opened and 
 
 Ray appeared, holding the pale and agitated Erminie by the 
 
 hand. , . n -j u 
 
 " Your father and mother, Erminie," he briefly said, as he 
 
 again went out and closed the door. 
 
 And in the dread, chilling presence of the dead, the long- 
 divided parent and chikl were reunited at last 1 
 
 ii 
 
 s my own 
 nysterious 
 aude. 
 
ismm'=SrS=T^. 
 
 rrr 
 
 
 384 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i 
 
 if -^^ ■!. 
 
 r. 1 
 
 ':'l 
 
 i - 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 THE DAWN OF A BRIGHTER DAY. 
 
 " Thoughts that frown upon our mirth 
 Will smile upon our sorrow ; 
 And many dark fears of to-day 
 May be bright hopes to-morrow." 
 
 — PiNCKNEV. 
 
 That same night, within that same hour, when her son lay 
 cold and stark in the room below, the fierce, turbulent spirit 
 of the gipsy queen passed away. 
 
 Death above, and death below — the cold, dread, invisible 
 presence pervading the whole house with a chilUng awe. 
 Voices were hushed to lowest whispers, footfalls were muf- 
 fled ; the deep, fervent joy of the reunited held in check by its 
 dread majesty. 
 
 There was a subdued luster through the house when morn- 
 ing broke. Pet and Erminie, very pale and very silent, 
 had arrayed mother and son for the grave ; and now, side by 
 side, they lay, white and still, and rigid, in the pale, leaden 
 dawn of the morning that dawned for them in vain. Stern, 
 and still, and silent, Ray sat by the bedside, gazing in tear- 
 less grief on the lifeless forms before him. Near him sat 
 Lord De Courcy, with a look of deep sadness, which not 
 even the joy of meeting Erminie could totally efface from 
 his fine features. Kneeling beside her dead husband, with 
 her face hidden in her hands, was the woman Marguerite, 
 swaying backward and forward in voiceless grief. Her first 
 cry had been to be restored to her child, but Lady Maude 
 had soothed her and prevailed upon her to wait until they 
 could all return to the city together. Worn out and fatigued 
 by her rapid journey, Lady Maude lay asleep in Erminie's 
 little bed ; and Erminie, sitting beside her with her arms 
 clasped round her neck, her beautiful head, with its wreath 
 
tWflWiM*Mii; 
 
 :nev. 
 
 her son lay 
 )ulent spirit 
 
 id, invisible 
 lining awe. 
 i were muf- 
 heck by its 
 
 vhen morn- 
 
 .^ery silent, 
 
 3W, side by 
 
 ale, leaden 
 
 in. Stern, 
 
 :ng in tear- 
 
 ar him sat 
 
 which not 
 
 fface from 
 
 band, with 
 
 rlarguerite. 
 
 Her first 
 
 dy Maude 
 
 until they 
 
 d fatigued 
 
 Erminie's 
 
 her arms 
 
 its wreath 
 
 THE DAWN OF A BRIGHTER DAY. 385 
 
 of golden hair lying on her breast, was asleep too. Ranty 
 Lawless had ridden off to Judestown to prepare for the 
 funeral, good-naturedly taking upon himself all the trouble in 
 order to spare Ray. And lastly Petronilla, looking as still 
 and serious as though a laugh had never dimpled her cherry 
 lips, moved on tip-toe about the house, dressing everything 
 in white, arranging flowers in vases, and imparting a soft- 
 ened beauty to the grim reality of death. 
 
 Early in the day the news spread abroad, and sympathiz- 
 ing neighbors began to drop in with offers of aid and assist- 
 ance. Among them came the admiral, looking unspeakably 
 doleful and lugubrious ; and when Pet, in as few words as 
 possible, related what had happened, the dear, crusty, soft- 
 hearted old beau was so affected that he was obliged to rush 
 from the house and wipe his stormy old eyes, unseen, under 
 the lee of Ringbone, which gaunt quadruped regarded him 
 with displeased surprise. Then came Mr. Toosypegs and 
 Miss Priscilla, whose sharp, cankerous face had grown ten 
 degrees more unyieldingly sour and acid with every passing 
 year. Poor Mr. Toosypegs was so sincerely grieved at the 
 death of " Mrs. Ketura," that he took out his bandanna and 
 relieved his mind, then , '. there, by a good hearty cry. 
 
 It was all like a dream to Erminie, a dream of mingled 
 sorrow and joy. Her tears fell fast for her whom, deeply as 
 she had wronged her, sternly as 1 had ever treated her, she 
 still loved ; but they fell on a mother's breast, and a father's 
 hand rested on her bowed head. She could scarcely realize 
 or believe all that had happened ; and she watched the peo- 
 ple come and go, and saw the I'feless forms closed from 
 view beneath the coffin-lid, and saw the funeral-procession 
 pass from the house, and felt the chilling sense of desolation 
 that a funeral always brings. Then this, too, passed ; and 
 she saw the people disperse and go to their homes, and 
 the white shrouding removed from the rooms, and the bright 
 summer sunshine came warmly in, and then all began to be 
 real — a glad, joyous reality at last. 
 
 " And now, what next ? " said Ray, as they all gathered 
 together in the little parlor of the cottage when all was over. 
 
 "We must all return to the city, next," said Lord De 
 
 \^\ju.iCy, iG j.%.iLa. xvu, Oi vOuisc, my ucui uuy, uic uiic «Jl 
 
 the family, now." 
 
 «'?'»«- ~"0»im»*iafe. 
 
Tmsrinr-m — rr 
 
 :i« r 
 
 386 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 i 
 
 " I thank you, my lord, but I have marked out my fu- 
 ture course for myself. I have a name and a fortune yet to 
 win." 
 
 " My dearest Ray, you would not leave me," said Lady 
 Maude, reproachfully, laying her hand on his arm. 
 
 He touched his lips to the small, white hand, and said : 
 " I cannot be a dependent on any one's bounty, not even 
 yours, my dear mother. You would not have me fold my 
 arms ignobly and become a worthless drone in the busy 
 hive of this world. My path is already clear — an uphill 
 one it may be — but the goal I aim at will be reached at 
 last." 
 
 His eyes rested half- unconsciously on Pet, who was gazing 
 very intently out of the window while he spoke. Lord De 
 Courcy saw the direction of his glance, and smiled slightly 
 to himself. 
 
 " But you, at least, will not think of leaving us so soon," 
 pleaded Lady Maude ; " consider how short a time since we 
 have met, and how long we have been parted. Indeed, I 
 will not hear of parting with you yet." 
 
 •' Oh, pray, Ray, don't go," said Erminie, gently ; " what 
 could we all ever do without you ? Do stay, like a dear, good 
 boy." 
 
 " You must have a heart of flint if you can resist all 
 these pleadings," said Lord De Courcy, drawing Erminie 
 fondly toward him. " Come, Miss Lawless, will you not aid 
 my little girl, here, in persuading this ungrateful scapegrace 
 of ours from running away ? " 
 
 " Oh, there is no use in me asking anybody to do any- 
 thing," said Pet, coloring slightly, yet looking saucy still, 
 " because they never do it ; if Minnie — beg pardon, Lady 
 Erminie, can't persuade him, then there is no use in my try- 
 ing." 
 
 " Now, Pet," said Erminie, reproachfully, and blushing 
 at her new-found title. 
 
 " Come, my dear boy, consent to stay with us for some 
 weeks, at least," said Lady Maude, looking up, coaxingly, in 
 his handsome face. 
 
 * Your ladyship's will is my law," said Ray, a smile break- 
 
 :^^ ^U~..~i. iU- !__„_ -r u;_ t 
 
 " that is right I when are we to start, my lord ? " 
 
KmMMli 
 
 iiMiMi 
 
 out my fu- 
 rtun€ yet to 
 
 said Lady 
 a. 
 
 , and said : 
 /, not even 
 ne fold my 
 I the busy 
 —an uphill 
 reached at 
 
 was gazing 
 
 Lord De 
 
 ed slightly 
 
 s so soon," 
 
 e since we 
 
 Indeed, I 
 
 tly ; " what 
 dear, good 
 
 1 resist all 
 ig Erminie 
 ^ou not aid 
 scapegrace 
 
 to do any- 
 saucy still, 
 don. Lady 
 
 in my try- 
 
 i blushing 
 
 s for some 
 axingly, in 
 
 nile break* 
 If 
 
 THE DAWN OF A BRIGHTER DAY. 3S7 
 
 « Early to-morrow, if you like. Mrs. Germaine," he said, 
 glancing at Marguerite, " I know is impatient to embrace 
 her daugh'-er." 
 
 '« I v:i{ V. ou were coming, too, Pet," said Erminie, going 
 over and utting her arm around Pet's small waist. 
 
 " And why can she not ? " said Lady Maude, looking 
 kindly down in Pet's changing face ; " we will be delighted 
 to have her with us. Do come, my dear." 
 
 " I thank your ladyship, but I cannot." 
 
 " Now, Pet, why ? You can come if you Uke," said 
 Ermine. 
 
 " Indeed I can't, Erminie. I must stay and console uncle 
 Harry for your loss. The man-of-war on the mantelpiece 
 will be quite inadequate to the task, and there he will be in 
 sackcloth and ashes, rending his garments and tearing his 
 hair—" 
 
 *' His wig, you mean," broke in Ranty. 
 
 "Ranty, be still. I should like to oblige you. Lady Er- 
 minie, but you perceive I can't. It is one of the cardinal 
 virtues consoling the afflicted, and I am trying to cultivate 
 all the virtues preparatory to taking the black veil one of 
 these days, and becoming a nun." 
 
 " Not if I can help it," said Ray, coming over. 
 
 " Well, but you can't help it, you know," said Pet, turning 
 red, but flashing defiance in a way that made Lady Maude 
 smile, and reminded Erminie of the Pet of other days ; " and 
 now I really must go before it gets any later. Erminie, Pll 
 come over early to-morrow and see you off, so I will not bid 
 you good-by now. Ranty — " 
 
 "Oh, never mind Ranty," interposed Ray; "let me be 
 your escort home for once, Pet. Come, do not refuse me 
 now. I have a great many things to say to you." 
 
 Pet colored vividly, but she did not refuse, and nodding a 
 good-by to the rest, they left the cottage together. 
 
 " Can we not prevail upon you at least to accompany us 
 back to the city ? " said Lord De Courcy to Ranty, when they 
 were gone. 
 
 Ranty hesitated, and glanced at Erminie, who blushed, of 
 
 course. 
 
 ''- Come, say yes, Mr. Lawless," said Lord De Courcy, 
 laying his hand on Ranty's shoulder, in his kind, cordial 
 
 ,. ''ym¥.*mmm^um>mmi':,'mi*^- 
 
LMm nk m ikjtt 
 
 388 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I i,' 
 
 manner 
 
 Erminie must not part with all her old friends at 
 once.'* 
 
 " Besides, you have not seen Rita, you know, Mr. Lawless," 
 added Lady Maude, with her own peculiar winning smile ; 
 " and she will be exceedingly glad to meet you once more. 
 You really must come now." 
 
 Still Ranty hesitated, and looked unspeakable things at Er- 
 minie. 
 
 " I see how it is," said the earl. " Mr. Lawless won't 
 consent unless Erminie seconds the invitation. Come, my 
 love, tell him he must come." 
 
 " I — I will be very glad to have Ranty with us," said Er- 
 minie, blushing most becomingly. 
 
 " Very well, that settles the matter, I hope, my young 
 friend." 
 
 " My lord, I shall only be too happy to accept your kind 
 invitation 1 " exclaimed Ranty, all in a glow of delight. 
 *' Nothing could give me more pleasure than to meet Lady 
 Rita again." 
 
 So it was arranged they should start the following morning. 
 Pet rode over to see Erminie off, and tears stood in the 
 dancing eyes of the elf as she bade her good-by. As for 
 Ermine, she wept audibly as the carriage rolled away, and 
 the home of her childhood was left far behind. She strained 
 her eyes to catch a last glimpse of the pretty little vine- 
 embower d cottage on the lonely bank, and watched the 
 blinding top of the White Squall fading away in the distance 
 as if it had been the face of an old friend. Then came Dis- 
 mal Hollow, and at the verge of the wood they encountered 
 Toosypegs, on horseback, waiting to bid Erminie farewell. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Toosypegs, I'm so glad to see you," said Er- 
 minie, putting her little snow-flake of a hand out of the 
 window to greet him. " How do you do, and how is Miss 
 Priscilla ? " 
 
 " Thanky, Miss Minnie," said Mr. Toosypegs, in a de- 
 jected tone. " I ain't well at all. I'm very much obliged to 
 you, and aunt Prisciller — well, the old gander broke his leg 
 this morning, and she ain't — well, she ain't in as good 
 spirits as she might be. Miss Minnie, you ain't going to be 
 long away, are you ? " 
 
 " That does not depend on me now, Mr, Toosypegs." said 
 
$Mifei«!tiM«tAMaiiM,iaaM'»3 
 
 THE DAWN OF A BRIGHTER DAY. 389 
 
 I friends at 
 
 , Lawless," 
 ling smile ; 
 once more. 
 
 lings at Er- 
 
 'less won't 
 Come, my 
 
 ," said Er- 
 
 my young 
 
 your kind 
 of delight, 
 meet Lady 
 
 ig morning, 
 ood in the 
 >y. As for 
 
 away, and 
 Ihe strained 
 
 little vine- 
 i^atched the 
 he distance 
 1 came Dis- 
 ncountered 
 
 farewell. 
 ," said Er- 
 )ut of the 
 low is Miss 
 
 s, in a de- 
 h obliged to 
 •oke his leg 
 in as good 
 going to be 
 
 Erminie, smiling. " You know I have got a father and 
 mother to take care of me now." 
 
 " Yes, I know," said Mr. Toosypegs, mournfully ; " it's 
 going to be horrid lonesome when you are gone ; I know it 
 is. I wish I had never been born ! I declare to goodness I 
 do 1 People may say what they like, but I don't see where's 
 the good of it," said Mr, Toosypegs, with a subdued howl. 
 
 " Come, Horlander I take things easy," suggested Ranty, 
 poking his head out through the opposite window. " Care 
 
 killed a cat." 
 
 «' It's all very well to say, ' take things easy, Master 
 Ranty," said Mr. Toosypegs, wiping his eyes with the cuff 
 of Ms coat-sleeve ; "but if you were in my place — in love — a 
 
 I moan going to part with Miss Minnie, and never see her 
 
 again, I don't see how you could take it easy either. I dare 
 say you mean real well in telling me so. Master Ranty, but I 
 can't do it at all. Good-by, Miss Minnie," said poor Mr. 
 Toosypegs, sobbing outright. " I don't expect ever to see 
 you again in this world — my feelings are in that state that I 
 will soon be a melancholy corpse. I know very well I will." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Toosypegs, I hope not ; you only think so. 
 Give my love to Miss Priscilla, and tell her I'll send her 
 a new shawl from Baltimore. Good-by." And with a smile, 
 Erminie fell back, and the carriage drove on, unhappy O. C. 
 Toosypegs wiping his eyes, and snuffling, in the middle of 
 
 the road. 
 
 Nothing of any importance occurred during the remainder 
 of the journey. The whole party arrived safely in the city, 
 and were domesticated with the friend in whose house the 
 earl and countess were staying. 
 
 The duty of informing Rita of her new-found parentage 
 devolved upon Lady Maude. In the gentlest and kindest 
 manner possible, she performed her task ; and great was the 
 astonishment and greater the mortification of the supercilious 
 little lady on learning who she really was. " Some natural 
 tears she shed;" but when the countess informed^ her she 
 was still to reside with them as before, and not being com- 
 pletely selfish after all, she consented at last to wipe them, 
 and met her mother with quite a decent show of affection. 
 
 lo olacne.l thf lif-tlp D-ilrled. p-litterin&- 
 
 -1. Oui 
 
 'pegs. 
 
 said 
 
 
 butterfly to her breast, and wept over her with a passionate 
 
390 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I* III'*: 
 
 1 
 
 love that touched every heart. There was a perceptible 
 coldness and jealousy in the dainty little lady's greeting of 
 Erminie, whom she looked upon as a rival and natural enemy ; 
 but the gentleness and sweetness of the new-found heiress 
 were not to be resisted ; and before they all separated for 
 the night Lady Rita made up her mind that matters were, 
 after all, by no means so bad as she had at first supposed. 
 
 Ray passed a week with the family in Baltimore, and then 
 returned to Judestown — on business, he said, but as more 
 than one of the party shrewdly guessed, to see Pet. He 
 found her worthy father at home, and unbounded was the 
 astonishment of that most upright gentleman upon learning 
 all that had transpired during his absence. Inwardly he re- 
 joiced at the annihilation of the gang of smugglers, and fer- 
 vently thanked his stars that his own connection with them 
 'lad not been discovered. 
 
 But another surprise was in store for him when Ray ap- 
 peared before him and formally solicited the hand of his 
 daughter. Ray Germaine, the gipsy's grandsoTi, and Ray 
 Germaine, Lady De Courcy's son, were two \ ery different 
 personages ; and his worship, the judge, was graciously 
 pleased to give a prompt assent. The first would have been, 
 in no very choice terms, shown the door ; the latter was 
 taken by the hand and cordially told, after the manner of 
 fathers in the play, to " take her and be happy," which Pet as- 
 sured him he would find some difficulty in being, once she 
 was his wife. 
 
 And so our Pet was engaged at last ; and Ray returned 
 to Baltimore to inform his friends of his success and make 
 arrangements for their marriage, which the judge, who 
 thought it would be something added to his already over- 
 whelming dignity to be father-in law of the son of a peeress, 
 desired might tt^ke place as soon as possible. 
 
 Erminie clapped her hands with delight when she heard of 
 it, and Lady Maude, whose heart the wild elf had taken by 
 storm, expressed her heartfelt pleasure. 
 
 '* And you must return with us to England as soon as 
 you are married," said Lord De Courcy, to the bride- 
 groom-elect. 
 
 xiliu Vv\j will ail ixvc Li-tJ^CLllcl. \Jll, it will UC OU iliL;c lU uu 
 
 near Pet \ " said Erminie delightedly. 
 
rceptible 
 eeting of 
 1 enemy ; 
 I heiress 
 rated for 
 rs were, 
 jposed. 
 and then 
 
 as more 
 »et. He 
 
 was the 
 
 learning 
 lly he re- 
 
 and fer- 
 ith them 
 
 Ray ap- 
 d of his 
 md Ray 
 diflFerent 
 raciously 
 ive been, 
 atter was 
 anner of 
 :h Pet as- 
 Dnce she 
 
 returned 
 nd make 
 Ige, who 
 ady over- 
 . peeress, 
 
 heard of 
 taken by 
 
 soon as 
 he bride- 
 
 
 THE DAWN OF A BRIGHTER BAY. 391 
 
 Rav laughed and shook his head. 
 
 " We may accompany you to England, as both Pet and I 
 desire to visit it, but our future home must be here. 
 
 - Why not in England as well as here ? " asked his lord- 
 
 ^^«?bh. well, for many reasons. One is, Petronilla would 
 never consent; another is that I am too niuch attached to 
 This land of my adoption to wish to leave it for any other 
 and thirdly and lastly, 1 have already attained some slight 
 degree of f^ame in m/ profession here, and I do not wish to 
 lose it now bv going to another land." 
 
 'Burmy deiest boy, I do not like the idea of being so 
 far separated from you," said Lady Maude, anxiously. 
 
 « Oh to cross the Atlantic is a mere pleasure-trip now, 
 my dekr mother," laughed Ray ; "so we will meet at m- 
 "rvals, after ^ all. As I intend to be a great man one of 
 
 '^'fvof c7n" be that, easily, by growing fat," interrupted 
 Rantv "You can't be reached now with anything less 
 than a ten-foot pole ; and if you only grow stout with years, 
 ril back you against any man in the community for great- 
 ness Yol'll rf ake Daniel Lambert himself look to his 
 
 ^^"J' By "the way, Erminie, I have a messag. for you frorn 
 your old admire? Mr. Toosypegs," said Ray. "^^.^^^e 
 Sn't bear the idea of letting you go without seeing you 
 again: so he is coming here, and the admiral with him. 
 
 "Misj PrisciUa ought to come, too, ana make the party 
 complete," said Ranty. " I wonder she is so imprudent as 
 to let that innocent youth journey so far alone ^he're ^^ 
 no telling what may happen to him in a depraved place like 
 
 ^^ - 1 am sure I shall be glad to see Mr. Toosypegc. again, 
 and the dear old admiral. Oh, I do love him," exclaimed 
 
 ^'^r wish I could get you to say that about his nephew,'* 
 said Ranty, with an appealing look. ^x. ^ ^^ 
 
 Lord De Courcy smiled encouragingly on the youth as.tc 
 gether with Lady Maude, he left the room. 
 
_giri4" '"" " 
 
 39a 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 f 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 tHIEFLY MATRIMONIAL. 
 
 " There is a love which, born 
 In early days, lives on through silent years." 
 " Love is life's end." 
 
 — Spe;nser. 
 
 Erminie — Lady Erminie now — sat in an elegantly-fur- 
 nished library, pulling a costly bouquet wantonly to pieces, 
 and looking excessively lovely in her dress of pale-blue silk 
 and white lace. 
 
 Pacing up and down the room, as if for a wager, was 
 Master Ranty Lawless, with a look as nearly approaching 
 the intensely gloomy as was possible for his handsome, 
 happy face to wear. 
 
 " Why, Ranty, what in the world is the matter with you 
 this morning ? " said Erminie, at last, opening her sweet blue 
 eyes very wide in innocent wonder. 
 
 " Lady Erminie, I'm going away, this very morning ; and 
 what's more, I'm never going to come back ! I'll be swung 
 to the yard-arm if I do 1 " was the unexpected answer, de- 
 livered with a savage, jerking abruptness that made Erminie 
 drop her flowers and half rise from her seat in consternation. 
 
 "Why, Ranty — why, Ranty! How can you talk so r 
 What has happened ? What is the matter > Ar i you going 
 crazy ? " 
 
 " What's happened ? Everything's happened, everything's 
 the matter, and I am going crazy, if it's any consolation to 
 you to learn it. Yes, you may look surprised. Lady Erminie 
 Germaine, or De Courcy, or whatever your name m^y be, 
 but you are the cause of it all ; and you know it too, for all 
 you sit up there looking as innocent and unconscious as it 
 IS nossiblG for any voun^ woman to look. Never mind 
 though; I don't care I Just go on, Lady Erminie 1 You'll 
 
iSiaiiliiai 
 
 ■MMi 
 
 MMtMkMte 
 
 for all 
 
 it 
 .A 
 
 CHIEFLY MATRIMONIAL. 
 
 393 
 
 ;tnd what a nice young man you've lost, when it's too late 1 " 
 said Ranty, striding up and down, and looking ferociously 
 at poor Erminie. 
 
 " Oh, Ranty 1 how can you go on so ? What have I 
 done ? " said Erminie, twisting her fingers, and looking up 
 with shining, tearful eyes, looking so pretty and innocent in 
 her distress that Ranty's better angel prompted him to go 
 over and caress away ^er tears on the spot. 
 
 But Ranty was angry and didn't do anything of the kind. 
 On the contrary, he grew twice as fierce as before, and strode 
 up and down twice as rapidly, bursting out with : 
 
 "What have you done? There's a question I What 
 haven't you done, I want to know ? You knew very well I 
 loved you, and paid attention to you since you were the size 
 of a well-grown doughnut, and when you hadn't a cent to 
 bless yourself with. You know I did. Lady Erminie, and 
 you needn't deny it. Well, your father and mother turn up, 
 and you find yourself a fine lady, and after that you grow 
 stiff and dignified, and keep me at a distance, as Paddy did. 
 the moon, and flirt with every bescented, behair-oiled jack- 
 anapes that squirms, and bows, and simpers, and makes 
 fools of themselves, and talk with all sorts of soft nonsense 
 to you! You know you do. Lady Erminie, and I repeat it, 
 you needn't deny it 1 Here was last night, at that concert, 
 soiree, or tea-party, or whatever it was, didn't you let that 
 contemptible fool, the Honorable Augustus Ahringfeldt, 
 make the strongest sort of love to you the whole blessed 
 evening. Honorable, indeed 1 A pretty honorable, he is, 
 all hair and conceit, like a scented orang-outang 1 " sneered 
 Ranty, elevating his Roman nose to the loftiest angle of 
 scorn. 
 
 •' Indeed — indeed, Ranty, I couldn't help it ! He talked 
 to me, and I had to answer him, and you never came near 
 me all the time," said Erminie with tears of distress in her 
 gentle blue eyes. 
 
 " No ; the thumb-screws of the Holy Office wouldn't have 
 got a word out of mel" said Ranty, fiercely. "Do you 
 think I was going to thrust myself forward where I wasn't 
 wanted ? No, Lady Erminie De Courcy ; though you may be 
 above me in rank and wealth, I can have as much pride as 
 you can yet ; and if you think fit to cut my acquaintance 
 
 ■• U^-iiHiitai*; ' 
 
!in Ti ' IS 1 ui I ' 
 
 394 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 ! : 
 ( I 
 
 you are perfectly welcome to do it. I am going away this 
 afternoon, and I am not likely to trouble you any more ; but 
 first I'll punch the head of that sweet seraph, the Honorable 
 Augustus — hanged if I don't I Lady Erminie, good-by ! I'm 
 off for a voyage to Constantinople ; and if you hear that the 
 sultan has had me bow-strung, or bastinadoed, or pitched into 
 the Bosphorus, or that I have committed suicide, or any- 
 thing, I hope you'll drop a tear to the memory of the little 
 boy in roundabout-jackets who used to go sailing and 
 making love with you at old Judestown." 
 
 Here Ranty dropped his voice to the deeply-pathetic, and 
 held out his hand mournfully to Erminie. But that young 
 lady's hands were up before her face, and she seemed 
 in a fair way to comply with his request to drop a tear to 
 his memory ; for she was sobbing away convulsively. 
 
 " There, now I I've went and set you a-crying I " exclaimed 
 Ranty, in a tone, or rather howl, of mingled remorse and 
 distraction. " That's always the way I go and put my foot 
 in whatever I go to do 1 I am a brute 1 a crocodile ! a sea- 
 serpent I a monster 1 an unmitigated bear ! and I deserve a 
 sound flogging for speaking to you as I did. Erminie I dear 
 Erminie 1 dearest Erminie I forgive me, like a good girl. It 
 was all owing to that hairy-faced fool, Ahringfeldt — I swear 
 it was ! I was jealous of him 1 madly jealous I the effem- 
 inate little cream-candy puppy 1 Dear Erminie, forgive me I 
 Dearest Erminie, look up and say I am forgiven, or I will go 
 to the nearest apothecary's, and put an end to my miserable 
 existence with a gallon or two of Prussic acid. Dear, dearest, 
 darling Erminie I only say you forgive me 1 " pleaded Ranty, 
 kneeling before her, and gently withdrawing her hands from 
 before her. 
 
 Erminie looked up imploringly through her tears. 
 
 " Oh, Ranty 1 how can you say such dreadful things ? Oh, 
 /ou frighten me to death 1 Promise me you will not kill 
 yourself ; it is so wicked, you know ! " 
 
 " Beside being disagreeable to be sat on by a coroner and 
 a dozen asses of jurymen. Well, I won't, if you will promise 
 me one thing." 
 
 " Oh, Ranty ! I will promise anything if you will not do 
 it" 
 
 " Will you, though ? Oh, Erminie ! you're a nice young 
 
CHIEFLY MATRIMONIAL. 
 
 395 
 
 iway this 
 lore ; but 
 lonorable 
 by ! I'm 
 r that the 
 ched into 
 , or any- 
 the little 
 ling and 
 
 letic, and 
 
 at young 
 
 seemed 
 
 a tear to 
 
 y- 
 
 xclaimed 
 lorse and 
 my foot 
 e 1 a sea- 
 leserve a 
 nie 1 dear 
 girl. It 
 -I swear 
 le effem- 
 give me I 
 I will go 
 niserable 
 , dearest, 
 d Ranty, 
 nds from 
 
 js ? Oh, 
 not kill 
 
 roner and 
 
 I promise 
 
 II not do 
 ce young 
 
 woman I Well, I want you to be my dear, little blue-eyed 
 wife. Now, then, say yes." 
 
 B c Erminie, with a bright blush and a little surprised 
 scream, threw up her hands and covered her face. 
 
 " Now, Erminie, that's no answer at all," said Ranty, 
 taking down tne hands. " You don't know what a capital 
 husband I'll make. You can't begin to have the remotest 
 idea of it, you know. Come, Erminie, say yes — there's a 
 good girl." 
 
 " Oh, Ranty I " 
 
 " Yes, I know ; girls always look flustered in cases like 
 this ; but, somehow, they manage to say yes, after all. Now, 
 Erminie, if you don't say yes, I'll go right straight off for the 
 Prussic acid — mind that 1 " 
 
 " Well, yes, then," said Erminie, blushing, and laughing, 
 and hiding her face on his shoulder. 
 
 «' Gloria in excelsis 1 alleluia ! hurrah 1 Oh, Erminie 1 my 
 own little darling 1 you have made me the happiest man from 
 here to the antipodes. Oh, Erminie 1 I knew you would, all 
 along 1 I always thought you had too much good sense to 
 reject me for a puppy like the Honorable Augustus 1 " ex- 
 claimed Ranty, in a rapture. "Oh, Erminie 1 I'll give you 
 leave to cowhide me within an inch of my life if I ever give 
 you a cross look or word again 1 Oh, Erminie — " 
 
 The sudden opening of the library-door cut short his 
 interminable string of interjections in which Ranty would 
 have indulged, and the next moment. Lord De Courcy stood 
 looking with grave surprise on the two lovers. 
 
 " Ah 1 beg your pardon," he said, blandly, as Ranty sprung 
 to his feet. " I was not aware there was any one here. 
 Excuse me for interrupting you." And with a bow and an 
 almost imperceptible smile, he was turning away, when Ranty 
 stepped forward, and said : 
 
 " Hold on, my lord. There's a little matter to be arranged 
 here, which may as well be done now as any other time. I 
 love your daughter and have told her so, and your daughter 
 loves me, and has told me so ; and all we want is your 
 lordship's consent to our union. I may not be quite her 
 equal in wealth, and rank, and all that sort of thing, in your 
 Q^Tiic . VjM+- Tc 3 frfts-bnrn American citizen, and an indepen- 
 dent ' sovereign ' in my own right, and possessing a strong 
 
 ■ i«**«i4ii»iK: ..-iiw-*... 
 
356 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 I 
 
 arm, a stout heart, and a clear conscience, I f( < 1 myself as 
 "'or as the best loid, duke, or Sir Harry in all Great 
 i .. ii, and so, my lord, if you will give nie your daughter, I 
 •fill u^y to prove myself wortliy of the gift." 
 
 Thib plain, straightforward speech, delivered wrth head 
 erect, shouldery thrown b.ick. and Master Ranty drawn up 
 to tiie full extent of his six feet odd inches, evidently did n.t 
 dii^please the 'rl. He turned to Erminie, whose blushing 
 face was hid again, and said, with a smile: 
 
 "And what says my lit'*? girl ? Has she authorized her 
 oU\ friend to say all this? " 
 
 " Yes, father," v/hispered Erminie, throwing her arms 
 around his neck. 
 
 " Well, then, I suppose I shall have to consent," said the 
 earl, rising. "Right, my hoy," he said, slapping Ranty 
 heartily on the shoulder; "you are as good as any man 
 .iving, and I like your bold, independent spirit. And now, 
 as I am i/e trop here, I shall go and tell her ladyship that she 
 is about to lose her new-found daughter again," said the earl, 
 as he left the room. 
 
 A d for the next hour, Ranty and Erminie were just as 
 perfectly happy as it is possible for any two denizens of 
 this rather unhappy world to be. 
 
 It was arranged that the marriage of Ranty and Erminie 
 should take place on the same day as that of Ray and Pet, 
 and that the whole party should sail for England together. 
 
 And three days after, came our whole party from Judes- 
 town in a body, consisting of the judge, pompous and im- 
 portant, but inwardly wincing a little at the thought of 
 meeting Erminie; Ray, handsome, and happy, and quite 
 unlike his usual haughty self; Pet, bright, defiant, saucy, and 
 sparkling as ever ; the admiral, in a high state of beatitude 
 and a new frock-coat with eye-dazzling brass buttons ; Mr. 
 Toosypegs, arrayed in a complete new suit to do honor to 
 the occasion, and looking mildly melancholy ; and last, but 
 by no means least. Miss Priscilla, as stiff, grim, sour, rigid 
 and upright as a church steeple. 
 
 Erminie flew down to meet them, and rushed i.^to the arms 
 of Pet, who favored her with a crushing hug ; ar;d t:h(-i she 
 kissed Miss Priscilla. who ofincrprlv nrpsent^^ I .,- -n XrXp.A 
 cheek for that operation ; and then she shook hands with 
 
mUmIhi 
 
 CHIEFLY MATRIMONIAL. 
 
 397 
 
 jlusluiig 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs, who repressed a groan of despair as she did 
 so ; and then she finish d her greetings by l,i rcving her arms 
 around the admiral's ni k and kissing hi' t .>, 
 
 '* Sf.xnd from under ! " roared the admiral, with a tremen- 
 dous burst of laughter. " So you're going to get spliced to 
 Ranty, Snowflake ? Ho, ho, ho ! Who'd 'n' thought it ? Lord I 
 how pretty you are, mywayl A id how's your father aud 
 that nice-looking woman, your mother ? I hope she's pretty 
 jolly," said the admiral, politely. 
 
 Erminie laughed, and replied that she was as jolly as 
 could be expected. 
 
 " And so you're going to England, Miss Minnie, and 
 never going to come back? "said Mr, Toosypegs, mourn- 
 fully. " I'm real sorry — I'm dreadfully sorry. Miss Minnie. 
 I do assure you I am. It's awfully lonesome now, at the cot- 
 tage. I can't bear to go near it at all, it recalls the past so 
 much. Miss Minnie, I don't know what I shall ever do when 
 you're gone at all — I just don't 1 " 
 
 '* Horlando, hold your tongue 1 " snarled Miss Priscilla. 
 And her dutiful nephew shut up like a jack-knife. " You're 
 foreverlastin' a-talkin' ; and a-talkin' nonsense at that. Miss 
 Minnie, I want to take hoff my things which is hinc >nvenient 
 to wear in the 'ouse, besides wanting to be folded uj' and put 
 away, to keep them from sp'lin'." 
 
 Erminie smilingly rung the bell, and ordered the servant 
 to show Miss Priscilla to her room ; and, at the sa ne mo- 
 ment. Lady Rita, impelled perhaps by curiosity, as n.uch as 
 anything else, ' o see those " rustics," as she called them, 
 swept majestically in, glittering in silk, and lace, and jewels, 
 until she fairly dazzled the eyes. 
 
 Erminie rose, and presented her as her " sister. Lady 
 Rita." Her little ladyship curled her fastidious lip slij. htly, 
 made a profoundly formal courtesy, and gracefully and 
 superciliously sunk into the downy depths on a lounge, md 
 thought inwardly what an " absurd set of the lowest pt pie 
 mamma was gathering about her 1 " 
 
 But from the moment Mr. Toosypegs set eyes on he 
 bright little meteor, he was done for 1 Pet was forgott. n ; 
 so was Erminie. Both, in his eyes, were eclipsed by t-iis 
 rmniAan.xvir>rrf^r\ rainhow-f intpfl. little, snarklin? vision. Poor 
 
^»*--"-'-"'' ' 
 
 ^~:«aati6iaaiiaij; 
 
 ^MMnr~^^T^^ 
 
 398 
 
 THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW. 
 
 Mr. Toosypegs, for the third time, was deeply and hopeless- 
 ly in love I 
 
 Three days after, the double-marriage took place, private- 
 ly, by the desire of all parties. None but the friends of the 
 brides were present ; and immediately after the ceremony the 
 farewells were spoken, and the bridal cortege drove down to 
 the steamer that was to convey them to the Old World. 
 
 Straining their eyes to catch a last glance of the shore they 
 were leaving, our bridal-party stood on the steamer's deck, 
 Erminie leaning on her husband's arm, and Pet leaning on 
 hers, both with eyes full of tears. Near them stood Lady 
 Maude and Lord De Courcy, both thinking of him who slept, 
 " after life's fitful fever," in his lonely hillside grave. There, 
 too, was Marguerite, calmer and less despairing-looking now, 
 though her wild, dark eyes were deeply mournful still. By 
 her side was her dainty, tossy, brightly-dressed little daughter, 
 inwardly thanking her stars to get iiome once more. And 
 thus they all stand before you now, dear reader, receding 
 far dowr* in the blue horizon. One more glimpse, and you 
 will see them no more. 
 
 At the White Squall still lives Admiral Harry Havenful, 
 who sits in his parlor, gazing on the pink-and-straw-colored 
 man-of-war, and smokes his pipe placidly, as he walks down 
 the serene pathway leading to old age. On fine days Mr. 
 Toosypegs always comes to see him, and there dilates for 
 hours on the manifold beauties and attractions of Lady Rita, 
 to whom he intends to be faithful as long as he lives. Mr. 
 Toosypegs never will get married. He says he intends con- 
 secrating his life to the memory of the sparkling little comet 
 that once flashed across his sky, and then disappeared for- 
 ever. Mr. O.C.Toosypegs' anguish and despair have subsided 
 now to a calm, serene melancholy, seldom relieved by a 
 smile, but by no means distressing to witness. He and the 
 admiral continue to do good in their own simple, unobtrusive 
 way, and find their chief delight in reading the letters they 
 sometimes receive from Erminie and Pet. Judge Lawless 
 lives in solitary grandeur at Heath Hill, the " Grand Sei- 
 gneur " of Judestown still. Miss Priscilla resides in gloomy 
 state at Dismal Hollow, and continues to murder the king's 
 English and scold Orlando severely every day, which casti- 
 gations he bears with evident meekness. Reader, to our 
 
hopeless- 
 
 ;, private- 
 ds of the 
 mony the 
 ; down to 
 Drld. 
 
 Iiore they 
 r's deck, 
 aning on 
 od Lady 
 'ho slept, 
 There, 
 :ing now, 
 till. By 
 laughter, 
 e. And 
 receding 
 and you 
 
 [avenful, 
 /-colored 
 ks down 
 lays Mr. 
 iates for 
 dy Rita, 
 iS. Mr. 
 nds con- 
 le comet 
 ared for- 
 jubsided 
 ;d by a 
 
 and the 
 ibtrusive 
 :ers they 
 Lawless 
 ind Sei- 
 
 gloomy 
 ;e king's 
 ch casti- 
 , to our 
 
 CHIEFLV MATRIMONIAL. 
 
 399 
 
 friends in Judestown, you have bidden an eternal farewell. 
 Ray Germaine has risen to rank and wealth in his profession, 
 and his handsome wife is the leader of the ton in the city 
 where she resides, and excites in turn the wonder and admira- 
 tion and envy of every one who knows her. Marriage has 
 subdued her wildness a little, but not eradicated it ; and oui 
 Pet is the happiest little lady in existence. There is a 
 miniature Pet there, too — a saucy little limb already, who 
 promises to be a second edition of wild Pet Lawless, in deeds 
 as well as in looks. 
 
 Lady Erminie and Mr. Lawless reside hi England, for 
 the Countess De Courcy will not part with her daughter. 
 
 Little Lady Rita has married a Spanish grandee — a Don 
 John somebody, and gone to live in her own " castle in Spain." 
 Marguerite has accompanied her to that sunny land. 
 
 The Earl and Countess De Courcy, loved and honored, 
 pass happily through life together. Their latter days promise 
 to be as bright with sunshine as their early ones were dark 
 and troubled. Reader, to all these, too, and I fear not 
 unreluctantly, you must bid farewell. 
 
 TU£ END.