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;^r" 1653 East Mam Street

~— Rociieste;, New York 14609 USA

!s= (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone

SSS (716) 2S8 - b989 - Fax

*'^

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..L.;L1.

:31Va i

It !

THETYPSY QUEEN'S VO^

p-c

og.s

-/ •

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

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

^tkikti^ ^

^ Ail bA.1.

:3iva

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

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:31Va

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

\,'*smmmm^-:~.i

.^Oi&

•aiva

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

S-3

' 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.

MR. TOOSYPEGS.

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

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.

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

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

•aiva L

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."

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

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.

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^

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.

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

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.

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""^-'-' "'"'^

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.

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

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.

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

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.

" 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

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.

[•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

MOTHER AND SON.

, 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

lord,

warmly.

K]k':jliclk.^, .m. 'L. ^M.%mM.

•aiwa

3-^

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

ill

" 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.

MOTHER AND SON.

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\

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."

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

" 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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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

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

; 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.

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

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.

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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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

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.

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:

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

lr.':i

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

■

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

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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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.

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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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.

: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^

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.

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

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

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.

mmtmimtimiimM

MsUL

■■-^^-- ■■ ff^^ , ^. s7jiiKE-.fflSH|-...

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

l;;i

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-

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>

,«*!_

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

- - . 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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW,

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.

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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

«^l

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.

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

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

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 ! "

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

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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

(

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

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.

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

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.

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:;;;

:^ivn

I-/

> r

i i

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.

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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

■ ' ■?

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.

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«

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

^c - i:«.i.i

nature. What
a mariage de convenance ; and what

LITTLE ERMINIE.

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 "

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

iHSonr

imLym

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

|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.

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

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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.

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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f.^

:aivn

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

WOMAN'S HATE.

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

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.

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

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 >

looping to lift liim in her strong arms.

WOMAN'S HATE.

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

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

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

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-

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 ? "

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

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*

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

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

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

: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 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 "

"¥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

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!

:aiva

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.

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

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

! 1

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_ ..

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.

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^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

OUR ERMINIE.

149

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

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^

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

,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

g'
lii

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

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

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(716) 482 - 0300 - Phone

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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

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

> "

\\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

•-1I %ar%

202

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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.

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

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*

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

.'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

;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.

■

\: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-

? "

' 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

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.

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-

ibrary for

teful old

s pupus.
:en guilty
an awful

I'es twice
be a man
im within

i girl is 1

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

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,"

MR. TOOSYPEGS IN DISTRESS.

241

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

12SMI i^ 9 SWU"

*ai w#«

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

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."

'.#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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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,

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\ ,*

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.

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

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. ' ^"

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

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

1!.

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"

\.!k

'aid

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

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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

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

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

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

((

" 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-

' 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 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.

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

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

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

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.

?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 .(» «

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

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.

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

• •» 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.

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.

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.

" 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

n my Bobby's
Miss Erminie

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

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.

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

•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<

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.

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.

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.

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

.^mmimmmmmt

'wmiHau^WI

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

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

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

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.

"wrwrtSTT

346

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

"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.

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 ■,

" 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

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 .

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.

r n

•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^

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

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-

THE ATTACK.

369

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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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."

to see you

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.

'f*^

378

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

V. 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.

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.

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

s my own
nysterious
aude.

ismm'=SrS=T^.

rrr

384

THE GYPSY QUEEN'S VOW.

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 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'*:

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.

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

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.

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.