_ BOOK I. THE SILENT PLACES
CHAPTER XIII. WHICH TELLS SOMEWHAT OF MY DEPLORABLE SITUATION
And after we had stood thus some while my companion spoke, though without troubling to turn her head or so much as glance towards me:
"Young man, what now?"
"Why, now," I answered, taking off my hat and bowing, "I have the honour to bid you good-bye!"
At this she wheeled quickly and stood viewing me over with a bold, unwavering gaze that it seemed nothing might abash; and though her eyes were large and well-shaped, yet I remember thinking them excessively unfeminine, the eyes rather of an ill-natured, pugnacious boy; and now, because of the hard coldness of her look, the unmaidenly, calculating intensity of her regard, I grew very conscious of my disfiguring garments and felt myself quite out of countenance.
"Why d'ye blush, young man?"
"Because you don't!"
"And why should I blush?"
"It would be more maidenly--?"
"Maidenly?" she repeated, and broke into such a mockery of laughter that I felt my cheeks indeed burn with a painful effusion and turning abruptly, I walked away in high dudgeon.
"Come back!" she commanded, but I went only the faster and being very earnest to rid myself of her, was even meditating ignominious flight, when I heard the leap of her feet in pursuit, felt her grip upon my arm and was checked thus so violently that I was amazed at the strength of her.
"Don't come your fine airs over me, young man," she panted in hot anger, her full, red lips tight-drawn, her great eyes dark and passionate. "Don't do it!" she repeated. "Don't ye dare!"
"Most decidedly not!" I answered, retreating before her threatening mien; and thus, not caring to turn my back on this young virago, I fronted her fierce scrutiny with what resolution I could, while devoutly wishing myself anywhere else in the world. And it was now that I realised she was taller than myself by fully an inch--indeed, perhaps a little more.
"Why does ye stare so?" she demanded.
I craved her forgiveness and lifted my offending gaze to the leaves above her head and maintained a dignified silence; whereupon she questioned me breathlessly,
"Now what are ye thinking?"
"That the ancient person spoke truly."
"You means as I'm a shrew?"
"Pray remember it was not I said so."
"But you means so! Come, does ye or don't ye?"
"Madam," I began, very conscious of the evil glitter of her knife, "if you will permit me to--"
"Don't 'madame' me, young man! I don't like it and I won't be madamed by you or any other--so don't dare--"
"Certainly not!" said I, fixing my gaze on the leaves again. "And may I suggest that we might converse more easily if you would have the kindness to put away your knife?"
"My little
churi, d'ye mean? Not I, young man, not I! 'T is my best friend as saves from evil more than once! And how do I know as you won't come any games?"
"Games?" I repeated, shaking my head in mystification. "The sports of youth never interested me--indeed, I never play games--"
"No," cried she, with sudden, shrill laugh, "I don't think you do!" Here (to my startled amazement) she whipped short petticoats above her knee and thrust the knife into her garter. Now though my gaze was immediately abased to earth I none the less had a memory of an exceedingly well-turned and shapely limb.
"And so you thinks I'm a shrew, does ye?" she demanded, head aslant, and hands on shapely hips.
"I think you might perhaps be just a little more gentle."
"Tush, young man, gentleness don't serve a maid among the Folk!"
"What folk?"
"The Romans."
"Romans?" said I, puzzled.
"Aye, Romans. The Romany, gipsies, the poor folk."
"Are you a gipsy, then?"
"I guess so! Though old Azor, of the Romany
rawni Camlo, do ever tell I'm no true Roman. So mayhap I'm not. However, when I grows up I takes to my little knife--by reason of the
chals--aye, and uses it too, otherwise I might ha' been tamed by now instead o' being free to choose. Ah, yes, I might ha' been creeping the ways wi' some man's brat on my shoulders, to work while he slept, go hungry till he'd ate his fill and slave for him--ah, I hate men!" And she spat in contempt and very coarsely. Yet I could not but notice how perfectly shaped was this vivid, scornful mouth.
"So you don't like me, young man, and I do not like you, which is a pity, seeing you buys me out o' the tribe and--"
"Bought you!" I exclaimed, utterly aghast.
"Indeed and to be sure you did. Which is what many a man has wished to do ere this. However, according to the law of our tribe we are mates--"
"Great heaven!" I exclaimed in such unfeigned consternation that she knit her black brows at me. "Impossible!" quoth I. "Ridiculous--absolutely preposterous! There is no bond between us--you are free, quite free--nay, I'll go--now--"
"Are ye a man?" cried she between snapping white teeth. "If so, you'll be the first as runs away from me. And why? Is it that I'm not good enough--fine enough--handsome enough--"
"My good girl, pray be reasonable--" I pleaded, which seemed only to enrage her the more until, finding me mute and so helpless against the torrent of her wrath, she checked upon a word, her red lips curved to sudden smile, and her voice grew singularly and sweetly soft.
"Poor young man, sit down and let us talk," said she, as if we hadn't uttered a word hitherto. So willy-nilly down I sat facing her amid the fern and very ill at ease. "Poor young man," said she again, "don't go for to look so downcast over so small a matter. Here's you and here's me; what's done is done! Treat me fair and you'll find me faithful, quick with my needle, a good hand at cooking and not so unkind as they tell o' me. Your life shall be my life and mine yours. Where you go I'll follow and belike it is we shall get along without overmuch fighting and bloodshed."
"But," said I, my brain whirling, "I had no idea--I--I--never imagined anything of this sort--the whole situation is--impossible!"
"You bought me, remember!"
"Did I?"
"Of course you did!" said she, looking at me great-eyed and I saw her lips quivering. "You pays over to old Azor fourteen guineas, a florin, one groat and three pennies."
"The act was slightly involuntary, as I remember!" said I.
"Talk plain, young man, talk plain! You buys me, and what's more, old Azor weds us and makes me your mort according to the law o' the Folk."
"But not according to the laws of the English Church," said I, "and I am not one of the Folk. So you are quite free: the words of old Azor cannot bind me--"
"But they do bind me, young man, now and hereafter. Besides, you have bought me away from the tribe and I may never go back and you can never leave me solitary."
Here I groaned and she sighed, but with that quiver of red lips that might mean tears or laughter.
"A truly terrible situation!" said I.
"It is, young man, it is! Though it might ha' been worse."
"How so?"
"Well, though I have no liking for you, neither your looks, nor your ways, nor your talk, you are better than Bennigo and Jochabed that are very brute beasts."
Now at this I leapt to my feet and, turning on indignant heel, strode off, but soon she was up with me and together we presently came out into the high road. And now as she went beside me I saw with added misgiving that the sun was already westering. _