"I had no will one way nor the other," she answered. "Of course when I was paid for he might do as he chose. I felt the change at first, but I liked it well enough after a time. I am very glad of it now."
This last with her face turned away, and in a whisper that escaped his notice.
"Was he good to you?" asked the other, feeling his free British instincts sadly outraged by the girl"s disclosures. "If he wasn"t, he ought to have his neck wrung!"
"Oh, yes!" she replied, eagerly, but with a shrinking look in her bright black eyes. "I have nothing to complain of from the Patron. Nothing! I hated my shoes at first, and eating with a knife and fork; but the Patron gave me beautiful clothes, and ornaments of gold, real gold. I soon learned to like being well-dressed, and after a time I didn"t so much mind sleeping under a roof. But oh! how I missed the lights in the sky! I used to wake up in the night crying, because I thought they had gone out for ever, and I should see them shining no more."
"But what on earth did he want you for?" was the natural inquiry. "What did he do with you after he bought and carried you away?"
"We didn"t always live here," she answered. "We do not always live here now. At first, the Patron took me about all over the country. I daresay I know a good many more places than you do. We went to every fair and merry-making, down in the West, as far as the Land"s End. It must be a very dark night for me to lose my way on Dartmoor, or anywhere in the Valley of the Exe, or among the coombes between Badgeworthy water and Taunton town. That was the first place I danced at to please the people in the fair. The Patron gave me this gold collar next morning, and I"ve worn it ever since. Would you like me to dance for you now, or sing? Or shall I tell you your fortune? I"ll do anything to please you. Only say what it shall be."
The shy and pleading glance that accompanied this accommodating avowal would have melted a harder heart than John Garnet"s.
"Tell me of yourself," was his answer; "that pleases me more than anything else you can talk about."
Her bright smile revealed a dazzling row of teeth. "There is not much to tell," said she. "We made money, and we spent money. Sometimes we went to the races, and the Patron used to come in to supper with his pockets full of gold. Sometimes the people laughed at us, and then we never stayed till nightfall. Once--it was at Devizes--they hooted us out of the town; a man threw a stone at me which struck me in the shoulder. It bled a good deal. Look, there"s the mark!"
She pulled her dress down and revealed a cicatrice on a shape that would have made a model for a sculptor. "I flew at him!" she continued, with a fierce glitter in her eyes, "and drew my knife. I would have stabbed him, but the Patron pulled me away. I should like to see that man again.
I should know his face among ten thousand, and I would kill him wherever we met. Then we came here and the Patron left off travelling so much. He says he began at the wrong end, and went to seek the fools, instead of letting the fools come and seek him. I used to think I liked moving about better than always sticking in the same place, but I don"t think so now."
"And the fools that come so readily to seek the Patron," asked John Garnet--"what sort of fools are these?"
"The wisest sort," answered the girl. "Many a time I have heard him say that those who come for information, begin by telling him all they want to know. The Patron never seems to listen, but his ears are very sharp.
Besides, he can always find out things in a hundred ways, watching the fire and the stars, or reading the cards. The last is the easiest, only they sometimes come up wrong, but the stars _never_ deceive."
She spoke with implicit faith. For this girl, there was an inscrutable power that ruled supreme over all earthly fortunes, and dominated all mortal efforts. She called it Fate, and believed that its decrees were revealed in the cracklings of a wood fire, the combinations on a table of numerals, the presence of the knave of spades in a hand of diamonds, no less than in those tablets of fire that her ancestors had studied, when the Pyramids were as yet unfinished, when the Chaldaean was still learning the alphabet of that wondrous language he discovered in the stars of heaven.
"Then the Patron is a fortune-teller," continued John Garnet, looking with undisguised admiration in his companion"s face. "I thought he was a doctor--I am sure he has doctored _me_ to some purpose. I feel as if I should be out of bed to-morrow, and in the saddle next day. Perhaps it"s your nursing, pretty Waif; but I seem to get stronger every hour."
It was a tell-tale face, and changed colour often under the clear, swarthy skin. John Garnet, however (and perhaps this was why women liked him well), detected but slowly the interest he created in the opposite s.e.x; and Waif might have blushed till she was scarlet before he found out the truth, had she not pressed both hands to her bosom with a gesture of pain, and exclaimed, in a choking voice:
"Then you will go away, and I shall never see you again!"
He glanced sharply in her face. The black eyes were fixed and tearless, but there was a world of patient, hopeless sorrow in their gaze; and through John Garnet"s heart ran a thrill of something sweeter and keener than pity--something not far removed from love.
"Waif," said he, in the kind, mellow tones she knew so well, "Waif, my pretty maid, shall you be sorry when I have to go away?"
She looked straight in his eyes while he could have counted ten. Then over her dark, delicate face came, as it were, a ripple, that told how deeply she was moved. One instant her slender figure waved like a willow in the wind, the next she had fallen forward on her knees, clasping his hand to her lips and forehead, while she wept convulsively; but, before he had recovered his astonishment sufficiently to soothe her with word or caress, she leaped to her feet, and glided like a phantom from the room.
"Here"s a coil!" said John Garnet to himself, making an abortive effort to rise, that sufficiently convinced him he had over-rated his strength.
"Why the devil couldn"t I let her go on, and keep my own foolish tongue between my teeth? It"s always the way with _me_. I speak, and then I"m sorry for it. Am I sorry for it now? I doubt if I am. She"s the prettiest la.s.s, for all her tawny skin, I"ve seen since I came out of the North; and there"s no harm done after all. I wonder how long I shall be kept lying here? A week more, at least. Say a week. The time will pa.s.s all the quicker with this gipsy beauty to talk to; and if she _do_ care for me a little more than is good for her, why I suppose she can"t help it. No more can I. What eyes she has, and what hair! I could find it in my heart to wish she was not quite so handsome; but that"s not my fault. Thyra"s a pretty name, though outlandish--much better than Waif.
I shall call her Thyra when she comes back. It won"t be long first, I"ll wager a guinea!"
But he would have lost his guinea. Noon pa.s.sed, and afternoon, and day drew to an end, but brought no Waif with its lengthening shadows. When his usual supper-time arrived, he began to grow fretful and impatient, as much perhaps from cravings of the stomach as the heart. A step in the pa.s.sage, the b.u.mp of a tray against his door, restored him to good humour; but it was with a feeling of disappointment, keen enough to dull the vigorous appet.i.te of convalescence, that he saw the skull-cap and velvet gown of his host, instead of Waif with her scarlet draperies and jetty gold-studded hair. When a girl has told a man she likes him, he always wants to hear the avowal again.
"My young friend," said Katerfelto, in the low grave voice to which he owed so much of his influence, "I have brought you to eat and drink: food plain and nourishing, drink that shall restore, and not inflame.
The tongue is clean, the eye clear, the pulse full, if a little irregular. My coming into the room suddenly flurried you, no doubt. If you go on well through the night, to-morrow I shall p.r.o.nounce you convalescent. I never speak without being sure. When Constantine Katerfelto uses the word "convalescent," a patient may order his boots to be blacked and his spurs cleaned."
"You"ve brought me through right well, Doctor," replied John Garnet, glancing at the door, "you and Waif together. You must give the nurse some of the credit! She"s been very careful and attentive. I think she has hardly left me for an hour at a time, till--till to-day."
How differently thirty and sixty look upon the absence of eighteen!
"Waif"s a good girl," answered the Doctor, coolly; "and for a mere child, shows a fair amount of intelligence. I am glad you are satisfied with her."
"She--she"s not ill to-day, I hope," hazarded the patient, eating, however, heartily enough, notwithstanding the anxiety to be inferred from his inquiry.
"Ah!" was the answer; "you know very little of Waif, or you would scarcely ask such a question. None of her race are ever _ill_, any more than the beasts of prey. They die, indeed, but it is like the wolf and the jackal, in some forest-den. Skill, science, experience, are of no avail. It"s in the blood--nothing can cure them when they have once lain down. I"ve tried it a score of times, and failed."
"Is she a thorough-bred gipsy?" he asked, for it was pleasant to talk of her, even to this unsympathising old man.
"As the Queen of Sheba," a.s.sented the other. "Some day, perhaps, when we are better acquainted, I may tell you more of her history; but I give not my friendship lightly," he added, with a scrutinising glance from his shining grey eyes; "it is offered only to those who owe me, or to whom I owe, a heavy debt of grat.i.tude."
"I am sure I ought to be grateful to you," said John Garnet, "and so I _am_; but I can do nothing to prove it till you get me off this bed, and out of this room. Then, Doctor, speak up boldly. Say what you want, and I am your man!"
The other laughed a noiseless laugh, peculiar to himself. "You owe me but little as yet," said he; "perhaps you may live to be deeper in my debt than for the healing of a scratch. Not that I mean to say the scratch was a trifling one. I tell you honestly, many a surgeon would have given your case up as hopeless; and you ought to be thankful, if you young men ever _are_ thankful, that you fell into my hands. No; for a bold, enterprising fellow, in the prime of life and strength, whose fingers, as I guess, close round his hilt pretty readily, I might do something better than stop a hole in the side. There are paths to fortune, plenty of them, for men who look upward and onward, steep it may be, and leading through miry places, not seldom slippery with blood.
To a bold spirit this is half the charm! You are lying here, unable to leave your bed to-day; but do you not long for the time when you shall be riding wild horses, pledging lawless healths, drinking, dicing, and brawling once more? When the frost is bitter, and the earth white with snow, and the robin hops to your window for crumbs, do you not look forward to the opening spring, the soft south wind, the coming of the blackbird at last?"
A look of intelligence pa.s.sed between them, and the sick man"s eye brightened. It was the pa.s.s-word of a losing, nay, of a ruined cause.
The handful of Jacobites remaining in England had not yet relinquished all hope of his return, who had proved indeed a bird of ill-omen, blacker than night, to those whose loyalty waged life and lands on his behalf.
"Nay, Doctor," said the other, with a flush of pride on his face, "the blackbird"s whistle has cost us simply all we had, but not one of us ever complained; we bought defeat too dear."
"I know you, John Garnet," answered Katerfelto. "You come of a trusty race."
"Know me!" repeated the other, "How did you find me out? I would have told you without hesitation, but you never asked my name--no more did Waif."
"I know a great many things," replied the charlatan. "In many ways you could not understand, unless you had studied, as I have, the hidden mysteries of Heaven and Earth, and of places under the Earth. I know that the Garnets lost t.i.tles and lands for the--for the Black-bird--we will say. I know that the last of them would leap from that bed, bandages and all, to burn powder and draw steel if the yellow beak did but so much as whistle from its garden in the South."
"You learned all that in the "Annual Register" or the "North Britain,""
said John Garnet, proudly, "but how did you guess I belonged to the family who have been so loyal, so constant, and proved themselves such--fools?"
Katerfelto smiled. "Fools," he replied, "are my special study. As the worm feeds the blackbird, so the fool feeds the philosopher. You are no fool notwithstanding, and yet I know all about you. There was a supper-party t"other night--a jest--an altercation--a duel--without witnesses--without witnesses, mark you. When a man is killed under those circ.u.mstances, the law sometimes brings it in--murder!"
John Garnet turned pale. The truth of his host"s surmises affected him no less than the consideration of the danger he had incurred. It did not strike him that Katerfelto"s guesses, however shrewd, were the mere offspring of a.n.a.logy and observation. A wounded man at midnight inferred an after-supper brawl, while the fact of his staggering into Deadman"s Alley faint from loss of blood, alone and una.s.sisted, argued the absence of seconds, one of whom would doubtless have conveyed his princ.i.p.al to a place of safety, while the ident.i.ty of that princ.i.p.al must long since have become the talk of this town.
"You know everything," he murmured. "Everything--I wish you could tell me whether the poor fellow I ran through the brisket is alive."
For reasons of his own the charlatan was anxious to impress his patient with a conviction of his powerful character and superior intelligence.
"Not so," said he, with an air of extreme frankness. "I have no knowledge, for I have taken no trouble to learn. If I can spare the time to-night, when the moon goes down, I will set those to work who shall bring me all the information I require in less than forty-eight hours."
John Garnet, though scarcely a model Christian, was a good Catholic. He crossed himself and faltered a feeble protest against the employment of evil spirits or unorthodox powers of the air.
"I had rather not get well at all," said he, "than be cured by magic or witchcraft! I would leave the house this minute if I believed you were more than a doctor! I"ll wager a fair stake and risk my life any day, but I won"t sit down to play for my soul!"
"Your soul!" echoed Katerfelto, with his characteristic laugh. "My young friend, what should I do with your soul if I won it? My concern is with men"s bodies, their energies, their courage, and their intellect. I shall set you on your legs in a week, and you can carry your soul about with you, if you have one, wherever you like. In the meantime keep quiet, take your medicine, drugs of the veriest earth--earthy; eat your food and drink your posset, prepared by no fairy hands, but those of a woman, real flesh and blood, with a human temper, worse, I daresay, than that of many average fiends, and so get well. In a few days I will talk to you again on matters of business to our mutual advantage. Meantime I relegate you once more to the care of Waif."