The Gypsy Queen's Vow

This melancholy view of things, more particularly the idea of Miss Pet’s not having a “word to say for herself,” struck Raymond as so inexpressibly ludicrous, that he gave vent to a shout of laughter.

“Yes, you may laugh!” said Pet, indignantly; “but it’s true, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself, making fun of people in this way. I am not going to stand being imposed upon much longer, either! If Miss Priscilla keeps snubbing and putting down Mr. Toosypegs all the time, that ain’t no reason why I’m to be snubbed and put down too – is it?”

“Why, Pet, what’s the matter with you this morning?” exclaimed Raymond. “I never knew you so cross; has the judge scolded you, or have you bagged no game, or has your pony cast a shoe, or – ”

“No, none of them things has happened!” broke in Pet, crossly. “I suppose you’d keep on or, or, or-ing till doomsday, if I let you! It’s worse still, and I wouldn’t mind much if you shot me on the spot!” said Pet, in a tone of such deep desperation that Raymond looked at her in real alarm.

“Why, Pet, what has happened?” he inquired, anxiously, “Nothing really serious, I hope.”

“Yes, it is really serious. I’m going to be sent to school – there now!” said Pet, as near crying as an elf could be.

“Oh! is that all?” said Raymond, immeasurably relieved. “Well, I don’t see anything so very dreadful in that.”

“Don’t you, indeed?” exclaimed Pet, with flashing eyes. “Well, if there’s anything more dreadful, I’d like to know what it is! 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!”

“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!” angrily retorted Pet. “I can read first-rate now, without spelling more than half the words; and write – I wish you could see how beautifully I can make some of the letters!”

“Oh! 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!” interrupted Raymond. “There! I’ve helped you out with it. And now look here, Pet, how do you expect to be raised to the dignity of my wife, some day, if you don’t learn something? Why, when we are married, you’ll have to make your mark!”

“I’ve a good mind to do that now with my whip!” exclaimed Pet, flourishing it in dangerous proximity to his head. “Your wife, indeed! I guess not! I’m to be a President’s lady some day, Aunt Deb says. Catch me marrying you!”

“Well, that will be your loss. Where is the judge going to send you?”

“Why, he says to the Sacred Heart; but I ain’t gone yet! I’d a heap sooner go to Judestown, with Minnie, to that school where all the boys and girls go together. Oh, Ray! there are just the nicest boys ever was there – ’specially one with the beautifulest red cheeks, and the loveliest bright buttons on his coat ever you seen!”

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!”

“Done!” cried Ray, catching the excitement now sparkling 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 rider of the two; and a ringing, triumphant laugh came borne tantalizingly to his ears as she distanced him by full twenty yards, and galloped up to the little white cottage on the Barrens.

“Fairly beaten!” 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.

“Ahem! and how do you expect to be raised to the dignity 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!” said Pet, demurely; though her wicked eyes were twinkling with irrepressible fun under their long lashes.

“Oh, I see!” said Ray, gayly. “Poetical justice, eh? Paying me in my own coin? Well, if you can beat me in riding, you can’t in anything else!”

“Can’t I, though?” said Pet, defiantly. “Just you try target-shooting, or pulling a stroke oar with me, and you’ll see! Schools where they teach you the Greek for bootjack ain’t the best places for learning them sort of things, I reckon!”

The thunder of horses’ hoofs had by this time brought another personage to the stage.

It was Erminie – “sweet Erminie,” the little beauty, and heiress of a princely fortune and estate.

The promise of Erminie’s childhood had been more than fulfilled. Wondrously lovely she was! How could the child of Lord Ernest Villiers and Lady Maude Percy be otherwise? 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 tapering 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, Pet! I’m so glad you’ve come!” she joyfully exclaimed. “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!” exclaimed Ray, laughing, as he bounded past the two girls, and sprung into the house.

It was a neat, pleasant little sitting-room, with white-muslin blinds in the windows, that were already darkened with vines; clean, straw matting on the floor and chairs, table, and 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, perfectly 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!” cried the spirited voice of Ray as he grasped Mr. Toosypegs’s hand and gave it a cordial shake.

“Thank you, Master Raymond, I’ve been quite well, I’m very much obliged to you,” said Mr. Toosypegs, wriggling faintly in his grasp. “So is Miss Toosypegs, so is Aunt Bob, and all the rest of the family – I’m very much obliged to you.”

“Dogs and all, I hope, Orlando?” said Pet, as she entered.

“Yes, Miss Pet, the dogs are quite well, I’m obliged to you. I hope you feel pretty well yourself?”

“No, I ain’t, then. I’m not well at all. I’ve been in a state of mind all the week, and there’s no telling how long it may last.”

“Good gracious! you don’t say so!” said the alarmed Mr. Toosypegs. “It’s not anything dangerous, I hope?”

“Well, people generally think the smallpox is dangerous!” began Pet, with a sort of gloomy sternness, when she was interrupted by Mr. Toosypegs, who, seizing his hat, rushed to the door, shrieking out:

“The smallpox! Oh, my gracious! Why, Miss Pet, how could you go to come here, and give it to us all like this? Good gracious! for to think of being all full of holes like a potato-steamer!” said Mr. Toosypegs, wiping the cold perspiration off his face.

“But the smallpox ain’t no circumstance to my trouble,” went on Pet, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I’m going to be sent to school!”

“Come back, Mr. Toosypegs; she hasn’t got the smallpox,” said Ray, laughing. “There is not the slightest danger, I assure you. Pet was only using an illustration that time.”

“Good gracious!” exclaimed Mr. Toosypegs, dropping into a chair and wiping his face with his handkerchief, “if you didn’t pretty near scare the life out of me!”

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first one I’ve scared the life out of!” said Pet, swinging her riding-whip. “I’m apt to astonish people now and then!”

“I should think so,” said Ray. “Do you remember the night she coaxed you out sailing with her, Mr. Toosypegs, and upset the boat; and then added insult to injury by pulling you on shore by the hair of your head? That was an awful trick, Pet.”

“I haven’t got it out of my bones yet,” said Mr. Toosypegs, mournfully. “I never expected such treatment from. Miss Pet, I’m sure, and I don’t know what I had ever done to deserve it.”

“Well, don’t be mad, Orlando. I’ll never do it again,” said Pet, in a deeply-penitent tone. “But, I say, Minnie, when we are going to have breakfast? I’ve an awful appetite this morning.”

“In a moment. Hurry, Lucy,” said Erminie, as she entered the room.

“I was just up-stairs, bringing grandmother her breakfast.”

“Hem! 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! 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 with 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 occurred during those ten years.

By the kind care of good-natured Mr. Toosypegs, and his friend, Admiral Havenful, the gipsy Ketura had been amply provided for. As Raymond and Erminie grew up, they had been sent to Judestown to school, with the children of Judge Lawless, whose daughter, Miss Pet, has already been introduced 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 inward 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 stroke, from the effects of which she never fully recovered, very little sorrow was felt or expressed. Sweet, gentle little Erminie was, however, a favorite with all, and so was the bold, bright, high-spirited Raymond, to whom the somewhat eccentric old Admiral Havenful took such a fancy that he insisted on sending him to college with his nephew, Ranty, or Randolph Lawless. To college, therefore, the boys went; and Erminie remained at the Barrens, and went every fine day to Judestown to the district school, sometimes, but very rarely, accompanied by Pet Lawless; for that wild young lady voted schools and school-teachers and “Committee men,” unmitigated bores, all, and preferred her own “sweet will” and her pony Starlight to suffering through “reading, writin’ and refmetic.” In vain her father, the judge, stormed and threatened her with all sorts of calamities. Pet, metaphysically speaking, snapped her finger in the face of all authority; and the more they wanted her to go, the more she wouldn’t, though she did offer to do her best to learn if they would let her go with Ray and Ranty. But gaiters were things forbidden inside the college gates; and besides Ranty very ungallantly protested that all girls in general, and “our Pet” in particular, were nothing but “pests,” and that he wouldn’t have her near him at any price. Master Ranty Lawless did not like the female persuasion, and once gruffly announced that his idea of heaven was, a place where boys could do as they liked, and where there were no girls. So as Pet had no mother to look after her, and queened it over the servants at home, she grew up pretty much as she liked, and was noted far and near as the wildest, maddest, skip-over-the-moon madcap that ever threw a peaceable community into convulsions.

This much being premised, it is only necessary to say that Ray and Ranty had returned from college for a few months’ vacation, the day previous to the commencement of this chapter, and then go on with our story.

“When is Miss Priscilla coming over, Mr. Toosypegs?” asked Erminie, as she filled for the third time his cup with fragrant, golden coffee.

“’Morrer evening,” replied Mr. Toosypegs, speaking with his mouth full; “she’s going to bring you a parcel of muslin things to work for her.”

“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 Priscilla can’t do fine sewing, her eyes are so weak, you know. I can’t bear to sit still and do nothing; I like to sew, or read, or something.”

“Ugh! 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, that’s 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! 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 expect – 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 somewheres. Oh, it was splendid! I’ll lend you the book, sometime, 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 his astonished eyes.

CHAPTER XVI.

MASTER RANTY

“A rare compound of oddity, frolic and fun.”Goldsmith.

A little, old, decrepit woman, bent double with age, leaning on a staff, and shaking with palsy, stood as suddenly before them as if she had sprung up through the earth. Her dress was the most astonishing complication of rags that ever hung together on a human back before. A long old-fashioned cloak that, a hundred years before, had probably been all the rage, swept behind her; and as it trailed along, seemed in imminent danger of throwing the unfortunate old lady over her own head, every minute. A brown, sunburned face, half hidden in masses of coarse, gray hairs, peered wildly out; and from under a pair of bushy, overhanging, gray eyebrows, gleamed two keen, needle-like eyes, as sharp as two-edged stilettos. This singular individual wore a man’s old beaver hat on her head, which was forcibly retained on that palsy-shaking member by a scarlet bandanna handkerchief passed over the crown, and tied under the chin.

Altogether, the little, stooping, unearthly-looking crone was one of the most singular sights that mortal eyes ever beheld.

So completely amazed were the whole assembly that for some five minutes they stood staring in silent wonder at this unexpected and most startling apparition. The little old woman, steadying herself with some difficulty on her cane, shaded her eyes with one hand, and peered at them with her sharp eyes.

“Don’t be afeard, pretty ladies and gentlemen,” said the little old lady, in a shrill, sharp falsetto. “I won’t hurt none o’ you, ef you behave yourselves. I guess I may come in?”

And suiting the action to the word, the little owner of the extraordinary head-dress hobbled in, and composedly dumped herself down into the rocking-chair Mr. Toosypegs had lately vacated.

“Now, what in the name of Hecate and all the witches, does this mean?” exclaimed Pet, first recovering her presence of mind.

“It means that I’ll take some breakfas’, if you’ll bring it down, Miss,” said the little old woman, laying her formidable-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 froid. “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 buttered 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, drawing out a flaming yellow cotton pocket-handkerchief, 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! I reckon you’re trying to poke fun at me, Miss Pet Lawless; but no good ever comes of telling lies. Have ye ever heard tell on Ananias and Sapphira?” asked the old woman, turning sharply on Pet.

“Whew! ghosts, and goblins, and warlocks! She knows my name!” whistled Pet, in unbounded astonishment.

“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 you 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 I never did hear any good of him,” said the old woman, taking out a huge snuff-box, and composedly helping herself to a pinch.

“What did you hear about me, mother?” said Ray, laughing, as he shook his curly black locks.

“Well, I heard you was a noisy, disagreeable, fightin’ character; allus a-kickin’ up a row with somebody, and forever 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!” said the little old woman, with asperity.

“Well, upon my word, if that ain’t polite, not to say complimentary,” said Pet, drawing a long breath. “‘Little yeller gal!’ Good gracious!”

“Well, you ain’t white, you know,” said the old woman – who, whatever her other infirmities might be, was certainly not deaf. “You’re rayther of the tawniest, as everybody what’s got eyes can see for themselves. It’s a pity you ain’t good-looking, like your brother Ranty; I don’t think I ever saw a prettier young man nor he is, in my life.”

“Why, you hateful old thing!” burst out Pet, indignantly; losing all her customary respect for old age in these unflattering remarks. “I ain’t tawny; and I am pretty – I just am! and I’m not going to believe anybody that says anything else. If you and everybody else think I’m ugly, it’s all your bad taste! Ranty prettier than me! Likely story!” said Pet, between contempt and indignation.

“Well, look what a nice white skin he has!” said the old woman, with whom Master Ranty appeared to be an immense favorite.

“White skin! bleached saffron, more like!” exclaimed Pet; “if our Ranty’s good-looking, I guess he keeps his beauty in his pocket; for nobody but you ever discovered it. Humph! ‘Little yeller gal!’ I vow, it’s enough to provoke a saint!” exclaimed Pet, in a higher key, at the remembrance 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 comprehension. Perhaps, my dear madam, you would be good enough to translate it from the original Greek, to which language I should judge it belongs, and let us know its import in the vulgar tongue, commonly called plain English.”

“Young man!” 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 you that! 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! Lor’! what a showy appearance you’d make, Ray, as a mustard-pot!” 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 succession of short, sharp sneezes, as her pinch of snuff went the wrong way. “I’m a patient woman; but I can’t stand everything. I’m used to be treated with respect. Where I came from, no such conduct was ever heerd tell on.”

“It’s a warm climate there – ain’t it?” insinuated Pet, meekly.

“Humph! there’s some inference in that, if a body only could make it out,” grunted the old woman; “anyways, I was always treated with respect there, young ’oman; which I’d advise you to remember, for you need it.”

“Now, who would think the little demons would treat the old one with respect?” said Pet, musingly, but in an exceedingly audible tone. “I never knew they were so polite down there, before.”

“Young woman,” began Goody, with kindling eyes, when Pet interrupted her impatiently with:

“Look here, now! 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 Lawless, and if it’s not too much trouble, I’d feel grateful to you if you’d call me so. There!”

“Good gracious! Miss Pet, take care!” 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.