"I"d run away, and join some other band," said Fan, coming close and whispering the words in Zula"s ear.
"No, I don"t want to join any band. I don"t want to be a gypsy at all.
Oh, I was so much happier when I was at home and had a nice clean bed, and everybody was so kind to me."
"Well, that was nice, but you see, you had to work."
"If I did, that was nothing."
"Oh, no, but then we can lay in the shade all we like and have a nice time, and so we get something to eat and do what we please, what is the difference?"
Zula felt that there was a great difference, and, gypsy though she was, she felt that there was more happiness in having employment and kind friends than all the pleasures of a life of idleness.
"Come, Zu, hurry up, or you will get another flogging."
"If I do it will not kill me, or, if it does I do not care. I wish it would; I"d rather be dead than live this way."
"It is too bad, I know, but I don"t see why they whip you that way. I never get such poundings."
"Because you are good and mind what you are told," said a harsh, croaking voice at the door.
Zula looked up, but there was neither love nor fear in the gaze that fell on her mother"s face. She had grown reckless as to fear, and so accustomed to the pain inflicted by the strokes of the lash, that had she been commanded to receive fifty, she would have betrayed no emotion.
"Come, you lazy thing, you may as well make yourself useful; you are good for nothing anyway, so you may help to make music for the dance."
"I hate music--that kind, anyway. It"s like the croaking of a frog. I would rather dance if I wasn"t so lame and my arms so sore."
"Come along, then; playing a while will cure you, I guess. You have got most too smart since you ran away and stole your livin" from the white ladies."
"I didn"t steal it; they gave it to me, and didn"t whip me either."
"Then they didn"t give you what you deserved; but let me tell you, you"ll not get a chance to get away again very soon," said the old gypsy, with a grin that made her fairly hideous.
Zula made no reply, but as she arose to her feet, scarcely able to stand at all, she was making a strong resolution in regard to a secret that a second party did not possess. Some day she would execute the plan which she had laid out, but she must work with the utmost caution. She was only a gypsy, which fact she fully realized, but there was something away in the distant future that her heart cried out for, and she would reach out until she could grasp it, if she died in the attempt. She was a gypsy, and she knew she could never be a fine lady, but she might find a way out of this terrible darkness and find at least a break in the clouds, if not the broad open sunshine in which she thought many a one lived.
She had made a resolution to escape from Crisp, but how was it to be done? She had more than half made up her mind that could she get back to Mrs. Platts, she would tell her all about her mother, and all the trouble she had gone through, but in that case they would know she was a gypsy, and the thought caused a blush of shame to pa.s.s over her face.
When the dance was over she put away the guitar with painfully tired arms and an aching heart. When she saw Crisp, as he moved about, cast exultant glances at her, and saw her mother watching her every movement, then was her resolution formed, not to be changed, for let come what would, hardships, torture, or even death, nothing should change her purpose. She would escape, and as she sat quietly working with her beads, making many pretty articles for sale, her brain was working more briskly than her fingers, trying to devise a means of escape.
CHAPTER IX.
FREE AGAIN.
Zula had been a prisoner three weeks, all that time being closely watched by Crisp, and had it not been for the stolen visits she received from the young gypsy girl, Fan, she would have been desolate indeed. She entered the hut one day where Zula was imprisoned, and going close to her she whispered:
"Zula, they are going to drug you to-night, but now don"t you be scared, for I"ll manage to fix it myself. They don"t think I would play any trick, but I will, and you be sure not to say a word against taking it."
"What is that for? What are they going to do?"
"They say you must be untied, or you will get lame, and not be able to travel, for we"ll move on in a week or two, and don"t you attempt to go out of the tent, for they are going to keep an eye on you to see if the herb works right."
Zula sat a moment in deep thought ere she replied; then, looking closely in Fan"s eyes, and speaking in a voice so low that Fan could just distinguish her words, she asked:
"Fan, will you trust me to ask you something and promise me not to tell a living soul?"
"Yes; I"ll promise."
"You won"t betray me?"
"No."
"True?"
"As sure as can be."
"You must help me, Fan. I must get away."
"Oh, I"ll be lonely without you, Zu."
"But they"ll kill me yet, Fan, and if I can I must get away, and if you will only help me, I will do something for you if I can. Will you help me, Fan?"
"Yes, Zu, I will."
"Well, then, to-morrow night, when they are all asleep, come as still as you can and untie the ropes, and I will escape."
Fan gave the required promise and then left Zula, saying that if she stayed too long they might suspect something. Crisp and his mother were seated on the ground, apart from the rest. Fan strolled near several times, but could hear nothing of their conversation. That night, as Zula lay patiently waiting, Fan entered the tent, saying in a loud voice:
"Here, Zula, Crisp told me to bring you this tea; he says it will strengthen you."
Zula took the tea, and, lying back on her bed of straw, was soon, to all appearance, fast asleep, but though her eyes were closed and her body motionless, her brain was still at work.
She had not lain there more than an hour ere she heard a pressure of the gra.s.s, and a smothered whisper near by. She began to fear that the two were to commit some terrible deed, and her heart beat wildly, but she controlled every outward emotion, knowing that her only hope lay in apparent ignorance of their presence. Old Meg, holding a torch closer to her face, whispered:
"Yes, she is sound asleep; now for the search. I"m sure she has it."
"Oh, yes, I"m pretty sure I saw her take it," said Crisp.
Old Meg then proceeded to examine Zula"s clothing, but after a thorough search turned away in disgust.
Zula heard words which made her heart stand still, and her face grew pale; heard that which changed her resolutions and the current of her life. Three years ago it would have been impossible for her to lie there quietly and control the intermingling of anger and grief that swelled her heart; but she had learned from the teachings which she had received, as well as from experience, that no good comes of hasty pa.s.sions, and calling into action all her powers of endurance, she lay as calm as a sleeping infant until Crisp and Meg left the tent.
All night she lay trying to devise means whereby she could make her escape, sleeping only at intervals. In the morning Meg entered to find what the effect of the drug had been. Zula, tired out from anxiety, had sunk into a heavy slumber. Old Meg, stooping down, looked steadily into her face, then left the tent. When the sun was going down that night she directed Crisp to see that Zula was securely tied, which work he was only too eager to do. It was night. The gypsies were all sleeping soundly. A cloud had blinded the setting sun, which, continuing to spread until night came on, grew to an inky darkness.
Now and then a tiny red line shot out from the blackened clouds, which were growing more and more dense, and a faint rumbling of the far away thunder could be heard. Midnight came, and Zula, with feverish anxiety, awaited the time for Fan to come and release her.
"Oh," thought Zula, "what if Fan had fallen asleep, and forgotten all about her, or worse yet, what if she were playing a part and should tell Crisp her secret. He would have no mercy on her." She grew nervous at the very thought. "Oh, what a risk she was running to undertake to gain her freedom. Oh, if Fan would only come."