"She"s awful sorry, and she says if you will just come home and let her see you once she could die better."
"Crisp, is it true that Maam is going to die?"
"As true as the stars shine, and she"s got something to tell you. I guess she"s got lots o" money to give you, but anyway she wants to tell you something."
"Well, you stay here then, Crisp, until I go home and tell my mother, and I will go if you will promise to come back with me, or let me come."
"Why, yes, I will let you come, but you won"t have time to wait. You must come right away, or Maam might be dead when you got there."
Poor Zula did not know what to do. She feared Crisp, and she could not bear the thought of going without Mrs. Platts" consent, and then when she thought of poor Meg dying and longing to see her, her tender heart yielded, and she thought she must go to her. She would explain all to Mrs. Platts when she returned, and she knew she would forgive her.
"Crisp," she said again, "are you speaking the truth?"
"Oh, dear, yes; do come, or we won"t see her again at all," Crisp replied, in a troubled voice.
She looked again at Crisp"s ugly face, and then she thought of all the cruel blows he had given her. She knew that the road to the camp with him would be a dangerous one, but she thought of poor old Meg dying, and longing to see her, and if she had been cruel to her, she was her mother, and she would go if Crisp would promise to bring her back that night.
He gave a solemn promise to do so, and Zula walking along hurriedly, by his side, wondered whether he had really told the truth, or was it all a fabrication of his own. Crisp questioned Zula as to where she had lived, and whether she had to work since she left them, and why she did not bring back the money she got for the beadwork, to which Zula replied that she could give them that amount now.
They reached the camp. All was still, for the gypsies were sleeping soundly.
"Come still," said Crisp, gliding into one of the tents. ""Cause you might wake her."
Zula followed softly, but no sooner had she entered the tent than she was seized by Crisp, and her hands bound tightly behind her. Old Meg arose from her straw bed, and, opening wide her eyes, looked in wonder at Zula, and as a grin of satisfaction pa.s.sed over her face, she asked:
"Where did you find her?"
"On the street in Detroit, and I guess we will keep her this time."
"It"s a wonder she did not get away."
"Oh, I told her you was sick and going to die, so she came along."
"You"re a good boy, Crisp, and you"ll get the money and she"ll get the lashes; yes, yes, she"ll get the lashes, the sinful jade, and you can give "em to her, and lay "em on good; tie her tight till to-morrow and then settle with her."
Crisp did as his mother directed, and Zula knowing his strength made no resistance. Then he went to his straw bed and slept soundly, until morning. The sun was well up when he went to Zula, and untying her hands led her out to a tree, where he bound her, saying:
"Now, you will find who is lady, or who is gypsy."
He wound the lash that he had brought, around his brawny hand, and one by one the blows fell fast upon the quivering flesh. No word escaped her lips; but a slight groan followed every stroke of the whip. The little soft hands were locked tightly together and the face grew paler and paler, as the strokes left their marks deep and red.
"I"ll take the pride out of you, my young queen; you dare not run away again," said Crisp, growing more and more angry, and giving vent to his demoniac ire in heavier strokes. As the lash sunk into the flesh a deeper paleness crept over Zula"s face, a heavy groan escaped her, and "Oh, Crisp," was spoken in a tone full of agony.
Old Meg, who stood watching the proceedings, now advanced, and said:
"Stop, Crisp, not so hard; don"t you see you are killing her?"
Zula"s head sank upon her breast and an ashen paleness overspread her face.
"Yes, stop," said a voice close behind him, and at that moment a form appeared among the trees.
"Who are you?" Crisp asked, angrily.
"It matters not who I am, but I command you to cease your cruelty, and untie that poor girl. Shame on a man who would commit such a cowardly deed. If you have a spark of manhood about you let her go."
"What business have you to interfere, I should like to know? She stays there till she knows how to behave herself."
The stranger deliberately placed his hand behind him, and drawing a pistol from his pocket pointed it at Crisp, who instantly dropped his hand by his side, while his ugly face became purple with anger and fright, as he advanced a step toward Zula.
"I will give you just three minutes to release that girl, and if you do not do as I bid you your worthless head shall pay the forfeit. You have already intended murder, and had you been allowed to proceed, would have ended her life."
Crisp began the work of untying the ropes which bound Zula, whose head lay upon her breast as motionless as though death had done its work.
When the cords were loosened, the young man bade Crisp carry her to her bed, which he did, while the stranger followed him. Old Meg brought a basin of water and bathed her face.
"Is she your daughter?" the stranger asked, addressing old Meg.
"Yes," she replied.
"How, then, can you treat her so cruelly?"
"She runs away, and we have to whip her hard," she said, glancing at Crisp, who stood like a cowering criminal, gazing on the ruin he had wrought.
"You whipped her too hard, Crisp," said Meg, who still seemed to have a spot of pity left in her heart.
Crisp could find nothing to say in self-defense, so remained silent, but the stranger noticed the look of intense hatred on his ugly face, as he gazed at the seemingly lifeless form before him. Zula breathed heavily, then slowly opened her eyes. They rested for a moment on the face of the young man, then with a sudden start and a flood of tears she turned and covered her face with her hands.
"Poor girl!" said the young man. "I am so sorry for you."
She tried to arise, but was too much exhausted. The pain inflicted by the terrible blows had nearly taken her life, and she sank back, again, white and trembling.
"Oh, I am so ill," she moaned.
"Go for some water, Crisp, and I will make her some herb tea," said old Meg, and she followed Crisp from the tent.
The stranger took from his pocket a card, and handing it to Zula told her in case anything of the kind ever occurred again, to make him acquainted with the fact and he would come to her rescue.
"Can you read the address?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," she answered. "I can read, and I thank you so much; perhaps some day, I can do something to repay you."
She took a steady look at the card, then returned it to him, saying:
"Take it, I shall remember."
"I am afraid you will forget."
"No, I shall not forget, and it will be safer here," she said, pointing to her forehead. "You know they can"t find it here."