The Gypsy Queen's Vow

“Don’t see no harm in whistling; nobody never objects to it,” said Pet, imitating to perfection the gruff, surly tones of Master Bob. “I’m fond of music myself, if you ain’t, and so is the hoss, who would not go a step if I didn’t whistle; so I’ll just keep on if it’s all the same to you.”

And another stave of “Hail Columbia” pierced the air.

“How long does it take you to drive to the Barrens?”

“Well, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter; and then again not so long,” said the driver, touching the horse daintily with his whip.

“Quite enlightened, thank you! Do you know the family at old Barrens cottage?”

“There ain’t no family there; there’s only the old woman what can’t walk or nothin’; and a nigger. Them two don’t make one whole member of society, let alone a family. Was you acquainted with them, square?”

“Slightly so,” said the gentleman, smiling.

“Well, maybe you knew that there cove that went away – young Mr. Ray?”

“I believe I had that honor,” replied the young man, with the smile still on his handsome face.

“Honor! humph! I reckon you’re the only one ever thought it an honor to know him,” said the lad, grimly. “He always was a vagabones, and ended as all vagabones must, at last.”

For one moment the young gentleman glanced at the driver, evidently hesitating whether to pitch him then and there out of the gig or not; but seeing only a little boy with an exceedingly muddy face, he thought better of it, and said:

“Well, this is really pleasant to listen to! And how did this vagabones, as you call him, end?”

“Why, he was sent away from home, when they couldn’t stand him any longer; and the last we heard of him was that he was in State Prison for life.”

A low peal of laughter from the young lady followed this, in which, after a prolonged stare of astonishment, the gentleman was obliged to join.

“Well, for cool, innate impudence, and straight-forward bluntness, I’ll back you against the world, my good youth,” said the young man, while the little driver sat looking as sober as a judge.

“And the young lady who lived there, what became of her?”

“There wasn’t never no young lady,” said the lad; “there was a little gal with yaller hair, but she went off, too; and I expect, ran away with some one-eyed fiddler or other. They was English, and no better couldn’t have been expected,” said the boy, in strong accents of contempt.

Another low laugh from the young lady and a prolonged whistle from the gentleman followed this.

“Well, I am sorry my friends have turned out so badly. How about the others, now; Judge Lawless and his family, for instance; Admiral Havenful, Mr. and Miss Toosypegs, and the rest?”

“They’re all hanging together! Mr. Toosypegs is going to get married and take in sewing for a living; and Miss Priscilla goes round making vinegar.”

“Making what?”

“Vinegar,” said the lad, gravely. “The grocers gets her to look into barrels of water, when they turns into vinegar ’mediately.”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” said the gentleman, laughing; “but the others – Judge Lawless, Miss Lawless, what of her?”

“Oh, she’s all right. Don’t expect she’ll be Miss Lawless, though, much longer,” said the boy.

“No? why? how? what do you mean?” said the young gentleman, starting so suddenly that the boy looked up, apparently quite terrified by this unexpected outburst.

“See here, square, you’ll skeer the hoss if you keep on like this. If you’re subjick to ’tacks of this kind you ought for to have told me before we started, and not ’larm the hoss,” said the boy, sharply.

“Tell me what you mean by that? Speak!” said the young man, vehemently.

“By what? skeering the hoss?” said the lad.

“No, about Miss Lawless,” was the impetuous rejoinder.

“Oh! Well, I have hearn tell she was goin’ to be married. Likely as not she is too; got lots of beaux.”

The young gentleman’s face flushed for a moment, and then grew set and stern.

“Did you hear who she was to be married to?” said the young lady, leaning over.

“No, marm; nobody never can tell what she’ll do; likely as not she’ll get married to the one nobody expects her to marry. She always was the contrariest young woman always that ever was,” said the boy, casting a quick, bright, searching glance from under his long eyelashes, at the handsome face of the gentleman. And it was a handsome face, the very handsomest the saucy little driver had ever seen; and it might have been its close proximity to its owner that sent such quick thrills to the heart of the quondam boy, and set it beating so unnecessarily fast under the jaunty black coat. The dark, clear complexion; the straight, classic features; the thick, jetty, clustering hair; the high, princely brow; the bold, flashing, falcon, black eyes; the thin, curving nostril, that showed his high blood; the proud, haughty mouth, shaded by a thick, black mustache; the tall, slight, elegant form; the high, kingly movements – these made up the outward attractions of him by whose side Pet sat. Of course, every reader above the artless age of five knows as well as I do who it is, so there is not the slightest necessity for announcing his name as Raymond Germaine.

There was a long silence after this. The young gentleman, with a cold, almost sarcastic look, watched the objects as they passed, and the little boy drove on, whistling as if his life depended on it.

Then the young lady leaned over and began a conversation in a low voice with her companion, to which he replied in the same tone. The lady had thrown back her veil, disclosing a face of such rare loveliness that it seemed a downright shame, not to say sin, to hide it behind that odious brown covering. The driver turned round to catch a better view of her face, and the young lady met the full splendor of those dazzling dark orbs. The boy instantly turned, and began whistling louder than ever.

“What a handsome boy!” said the young girl, in a low tone, yet loud enough for the “boy” in question to hear. “What splendid eyes! I thought there could be but one such pair of eyes in the world, and those – ”

Her companion made a slight gesture that arrested the name she would have uttered; and glancing at the boy, said, rather coldly:

“Yes; he is handsome, if his face was washed.”

“Now, Ray,” said the young lady, laughing “that is altogether too bad. Those radiant eyes are destined to break many a heart yet.”

“That they are!” mentally exclaimed the lad.

“How fortunate for some of your admirers, Ermie, he is not a few years older,” said Ray (we may as well call him so at once, and have done with it). “Those dark, bright, handsome eyes wouldn’t have left you the faintest trace of a heart; and then what would poor Ranty have done?”

“Pshaw, Ray,” said Erminie, with a most becoming blush, “what nonsense! Oh, look! we are almost home. There is Dismal Hollow, and there – there – I declare! that’s Mr. Toosypegs himself, riding out of the pine woods. Why, he hasn’t changed the least in the world since I saw him last.”

The little driver gave his cap a pull further over his face as Ray shouted to Mr. Toosypegs.

The next moment, that disconsolate wooer was by the side of the gig, shaking hands with Ray and Erminie, and asking a dozen questions in a breath.

“How did you come? When did you come? How did you meet?” breathlessly demanded the astonished and delighted Mr. Toosypegs.

“I called for Erminie at her convent. She is not going back any more; my visit will probably be a short one. I hope Miss Toosypegs and all our friends are well?”

“Yes; all well. I am very much obliged to you. Did you pass through Judestown?”

“Of course. How else could we get here?”

“And didn’t you meet Miss Pet?”

“Miss Lawless? No. Was she at Judestown?” said Erminie, eagerly; while Ray found something so attractive among the trees that he could not possibly remove his eyes from it. “Oh, I should have liked to have seen her so much!”

“Yes; she went to Judestown this morning, and has not got back. My goodness! it is the greatest wonder you didn’t see her. What a pity she didn’t know you’ve come! she would be here in a flash.”

“Is she to be married, do you know, Mr. Toosypegs?” said Erminie, in a low voice; “we heard she was.”

The little boy glanced from the corner of his eye, and saw a faint red on the dark cheek of the tall, handsome, Spanish-looking gentleman beside him.

Mr. Toosypegs turned pale; even his very freckles turned the color of buttermilk curds at the question.

“Get married! Goodness gracious! I was just saying so. Oh, I knew very well she would go and heave herself away on somebody. Who is she going to be married to, Miss Minnie?”

“I don’t know; it was this little boy who told us,” said Erminie, glancing toward him.

“Well, I don’t know neither; only hearn tell,” said the lad, shortly.

“Perhaps it is only a report. When will you come over to the cottage, Mr. Toosypegs?”

“This evening, Miss Minnie; and I guess Aunt Prisciller will come, too. She hasn’t had any new caps or collars since you went away, and has ever so many to get made.”

“Very well; I will make them. Good-by, till then,” said Erminie, smiling as they drove on.

A short time sufficed to bring them to the cottage.

The driver was invited in, but declined, and turned to go.

“If you see Miss Lawless on your way, will you tell her to hurry here?” said Erminie, as she alighted.

“Yes’m; all right!” said the boy, closing his hand over the coin Ray gave him; and then touching his cap to Erminie, dashed away.

Lucy’s delight exceeded all bounds at beholding “young mars’r and missis” again; and then Ray and Erminie, with some difficulty, extricated themselves from her violent caresses, went up-stairs, and entered the room of Ketura.

Many and sad were the changes years, and sorrow, and a sort of chronic remorse for her past acts had wrought in her. She sat in a large easy-chair, unable to move any portion of her body but her head; her hard, dark, grim face, bony, sharp, and hollow, the protruding bones just covered by a wrinkled covering of skin; but the fierce, blazing, black eyes were still unchanged.

Erminie, with the exclamation, “My dearest grandmother!” went over, and throwing her snowy arms around her neck, kissed the dark, withered cheek.

The old woman glanced at her, and saw the now beautiful, feminine, but perfect image of Lord Ernest Villiers. The same large, dark, beautiful violet-blue eyes; the same fair, silken, golden hair; the game clear, transparent complexion; the same elegant, graceful movements; the very expression of the features complete. All her old hatred revived at the sight of the lovely, high-born girl. With a quick, fierce gesture, she pushed her aside, and strove to glance around for the other she expected.

Ray stepped forward, and touched his lips tenderly to her forehead.

Holding his hand, she made him stand off where she could the better see him, and then she scrutinized him from head to foot. There, before her, he stood, the living embodiment of what her son had been at his age, the very image of him she had so passionately loved and so sadly lost. She could scarcely persuade herself that Reginald had not risen from the grave to meet her again. There was his very gipsy skin, and eyes of darkened fire; the curling locks of jet, and tall, princely form; but the expression of the mouth was different; his smile was Erminie’s exactly; and altogether there was a strong, undefined, puzzling resemblance between them, that for a moment darkly clouded the brow of the gipsy as she observed it. The only being in the wide world she cared for now, was Ray. Erminie might win all other hearts, but the gipsy Ketura’s was as flint to her. She had hated her from the first; she hated her still; she would hate her until the last, for the sake of the race from which she sprung.

Seeing she was not wanted, Erminie left the room to change her traveling-dress; and Ray, seating himself beside his grandmother, proceeded to tell her of his studies, his progress, his hopes and ambition for the future. One name he did not mention, that of Pet Lawless; and yet it was thrilling and vibrating at his heart-strings, as he listened impatiently for the quick, sharp clatter of her horse’s hoofs.

But hours passed, and she came not; and Ray, angry at himself for caring or feeling so deeply disappointed, descended to join Erminie at the tea-table.

“What is Miss Lawless to me?” was the impetuous thought that sent the fiery blood careering to his brow. “She an heiress, and I a pauper – a beggar, with the tainted gipsy blood in my veins. We were friends – something more, perhaps – in the years that have passed; but neither of us understood our relative positions, then. No; proud as she is, she shall never know I have dared to lift my eyes to her father’s daughter. I was a fool to come on here at all. I have heard she has driven dozens of better men crazy with her witchery; and can I rely on my own strength to shield me from her arts? Pshaw! she will not think it worth while, though, to stoop to flirt with me. I, a menial, educated by the bounty of her uncle. I am safe enough, and will think of her no more.”

A very laudable resolution it was, on the young gentleman’s part, but one which he found some difficulty in carrying out, inasmuch as Mr. and Miss Toosypegs and Admiral Havenful came in just then; and after the first greetings were over, the whole conversation turned on Pet, her tricks, frolics, flirtations, capers, and caprices; and Ray found himself listening with an intense eagerness that he was half inclined to be enraged at himself for feeling.

Then, just as night was falling, the gallop of a horse was heard coming though the forest road; and a few minutes later, Pet alighted at the gate, darted up the walk, burst, like the impetuous little whirlwind she was, into the cottage, clasped Erminie in her arms, and kissed her again and again, until Ray – though nothing earthly would have made him own it, even to himself – would have given untold wealth to have stood in his sister’s gaiters. Three somewhat furious embraces, that quite took away Erminie’s breath, being over, Miss Lawless found time to glance at the rest of the company, and seeing Ray, as he stood, tall, and dark, and silent, by the window, went over and held out her hand.

There was something more nearly approaching to timidity in the action, and in the quick glance and quicker dropping of her resplendent eyes than any one had ever seen Pet manifest before. Ray bent over the little dark hand, whose touch sent a quick, sudden thrill to his inmost heart, and thought that, in all his life, he had never seen any one so beautiful as she looked then, with her veiled eyes, and drooping ringlets, and long, waving plumes that bent over her hat, touching her glowing cheeks as if enamored of the darkly splendid face beneath.

“Humph! A cold welcome, my little Mother Cary’s Chicken,” grunted the admiral. “Why don’t you kiss him like you did Snowdrop? That’s no way to welcome a friend you haven’t seen for three whole blessed years.”

Ray’s eyes met hers, and the color flushed to her very brow; then, withdrawing her hand, she tossed her saucy head till all her jetty curls flashed, and throwing herself into a seat, began talking to Erminie, as if for a wager.

“Who told you we were come?” asked Erminie.

“No one,” said Pet. “It was an inspiration from on high, I expect, that told me I should find you here.”

“It’s a wonder you did not see us at Judestown; we remained there some time.”

“Well, how do you know I didn’t see you?” said Pet.

“Why, you surely – oh, Pet! did you see us and never spoke?” said Erminie, reproachfully.

“Well, I was otherwise engaged, you know – in fact, there was a young gentleman, a very young gentleman, in the case – and I couldn’t very well have presented myself any sooner then I did,” said Pet.

“One of her lovers,” thought Ray, with a curling lip.

“Guess what the little boy, who drove us over, told us about you, Pet?” said Erminie, laughing.

“What? Nothing naughty, I hope.”

“Well, I don’t know; that’s as it may be. Shall I tell you what he said?”

“Of course; I like to hear what people say about me.”

“Well, then, he said you were going to be married.”

“Not possible! What an astounding revelation! Did you think I was going to be an old maid?”

“Then it is true? Is it any harm to ask who the happy man is, Pet?”

“Well, I haven’t quite decided yet. I have some four or five on trial, and I generally put them through a severe course of martyrdom every day. The one who survives it (not more than one can possibly survive it) I shall probably make miserable for life, by bestowing upon him my hand – and heart, I was going to say, only, fortunately, they forgot to give me one when I was made.”

Erminie laughed, and then the conversation became general, and two hours imperceptibly slipped away. Ray having wrought himself up to the belief that Miss Lawless was a heartless flirt, worthy of no higher feeling than contempt, he, in order to resist the dark witchery of her magnetic eyes, wrapped himself up in his very coldest mantle of pride, and addressed just as little of his conversation to her as he possibly could, without being positively rude. Pet, as proud in her own way as himself, noticed this at once, and her cheeks flushed, and her eyes flashed, for a moment, with anger and pride. Then these signs of emotion passed away, and she grew her own cold, careless self again, talking away recklessly, and laughing contemptuously at all sentiment, until Ray was more then ever convinced that the world had spoiled her, and that she was as arrant a coquette as ever made a fool of a sensible man.

As they arose to go, Ray, feeling himself bound in courtesy, offered to escort her home, but Pet coldly and curtly declined; and vaulting into her saddle, dashed off at a break-neck pace, madly reckless even for her.

Looking back once, she caught a glimpse of a tall dark form leaning against a tree with folded arms and watching her still. Did she, with her light, sparkling, thoughtless nature, realize the struggle going on in that young heart, between love and pride, at that moment?

Of course, the arrival of Ray and Erminie precluded her “exploring expedition,” as she called it, to the seashore. The next morning, and part of the afternoon, were spent with Erminie; but reaching home a little before sunset, she suddenly remembered it, and started off on the spur of the moment, like a female Don Quixote, in search of adventures.

“It’s too late to begin a regular search,” thought Pet, as she ran down the bank leading to the shore; “so I’ll just have a look round the place, and come back some other day and have a real good hunt for smugglers.”

Fifteen minutes brought her to the beach, and there she paused to look round. The sands for a long distance out were bare; but the tide was slowly tramping inward. On the other hand, a huge wall of beetling rocks and projecting crags met the eye; but these walls of rock were so smooth and perpendicular, and so dizzily high, that the boldest sailor, used to climbing all his life, would have hesitated before attempting to clamber up. There were two paths leading to the shore – the one Pet had just descended, and another about half a mile distant. Between these the massive wall of rock chose to indulge itself in a sudden impetuous rush out, forming a huge projecting shoulder, up which a cat could hardly have climbed safely. The tide always covered this a considerable length of time before it could reach the sands on either side, so that a person caught at high tide on either side found himself cut off from crossing over to the opposite side, unless he had a boat, or could swim.

“Now,” thought Pet, “I’ll have to look sharp and not let the tide catch me on the other side of that bluff, there, or if I do, I’ll have a walk of half a mile along the beach to the other road, and after that over a mile to get home, which is a promenade I am not anxious for. I might swim across, it is true, but swimming with all one’s clothes on is not the pleasantest or safest thing in the world; and all the smugglers this side of Pompey’s Pillar are not worth the cold I would catch. I’ll just walk over and look at the rocks, and then come back again.”

Following up this intention, Pet walked slowly along, scanning the high, dark, frowning rocks with a curious eye. As far as she could see, there was not the slightest trace of an opening anywhere; yet the people said that some place along the shore the smugglers had a rendezvous. Pet’s keen eye detected every fissure large enough to hold a mouse, but no trace of secret cave or hidden cavern could be seen.

“I might have known it was all nonsense,” said Pet, mentally. “The notion of finding an under-ground cave full of robbers and jewels, and all that sort of thing, is too much like a play, or a story in the ‘Arabian Nights,’ to be natural. However, as the night’s fine, I’ll just go and look on the other side of the bluff.”

By this time she had reached the high projecting bowlders, and she paused for a moment to glance at the sea. It was still several yards distant, and Pet felt sure she could go down some distance, and return again before the rising tide would bar her passage.

The sun had set and there was no moon; but the starlight was bright and the sea-breeze cool and invigorating; so Pet, in high spirits, walked on. Here and there she could catch the white sail of some boat, skimming over the waves; but the long beach was lonely and deserted.

“Well, I guess I may as well turn back now,” said Pet, half aloud. “I am afraid my search after smugglers is going to be unsuccessful, after all. I haven’t caught anything this evening, that’s certain.”

“But something has caught you, pretty one,” said a voice, close behind her, so close and sudden that Pet jumped round with a startled ejaculation, and found herself face to face with her sometime tutor and discarded lover, Rozzel Garnet.

His face was flushed, his eyes were gleaming with triumph, as he laid one powerful hand on her shoulder, and held her fast.

In one instant the whole danger of her situation flashed upon Pet. She had made this man her deadly enemy; he had probably long waited for an opportunity for revenge – here she was completely in his power, alone on the long, dreary, deserted beach, where her cries, if she uttered any, could reach no ear. Above her towered the high, precipitous, beetling rocks that she could not climb; on the other hand, spread out the boundless ocean, more merciful than him into whose hands she had fallen.

Like lightning, it all passed through her mind, and for one moment she quailed. But then her brave heart rose; this was no time for puerile fears, and she faced round, drew up her slight form to its full height, and met her enemy with a dauntless eye.

“Good-evening, Mr. Garnet,” she said, composedly. “This is an unexpected pleasure. We thought you had gone away.”

“Ah! did you? Gone where, Miss Lawless?” he said, with a sinister smile.

“Well – anywhere – to the county jail, as likely as not; but people don’t always get their deserts in this world.”

“Very true, Miss Pet; but you are, at present, in a fair way to get yours.”

“Humph! You’ll allow me to differ from you, there. I deserve something better than bad company, I hope; so permit me to wish you a very good-evening, Mr. Garnet.”

“Not so fast, Miss Lawless; you must do your humble servant the honor of conferring your company upon him for a few days. As I have not seen you for so long a time, it would be highly impolite, not to say cruel, to hasten away so soon now.”

“Indeed! Mr. Garnet – indeed!” said Pet, arching her brows. “Your lesson in the library did not cure you, I see. Are you aware there is such a thing as a jail in Judestown, where refractory gentlemen who threaten peaceable citizens are sometimes taken for a change of air? Really, Mr. Garnet, I think a little wholesome correction would not hurt you in the least.”

“No, Miss Lawless, I have not forgotten that scene in the library of your father’s house,” said Garnet, tightening his grasp, till Pet winced with pain. “My hand bears the mark of your sharp teeth yet; and as I am deeply your debtor for that Judas-kiss, I shall pay you in your own coin before either of us are many hours older. Did you think how near retribution was when you gave me that sharp caress, Miss Lawless?”