A BREAK FOR LIBERTY
Ruth finally slept in the Gypsy van as sweetly as though she were in her own little bed in the gable room at the Red Mill. She was bodily wearied, and she had lost herself while yet she was watching the Gypsy Queen worshipping the pearl necklace, and fearing that the man with the evil eyes was peering into the interior of the van.
A hundred noises of the Gypsy camp awakened her when the sun was scarcely showing his face. Dogs barked and scampered about; horses neighed and stamped; roosters crowed and hens cackled. The children were crying, or laughing, and the women chattering as they went about the getting of breakfast at the fires.
The fires crackled; the men sat upon the van tongues cleaning harness after the rain and mud of the afternoon before. The boys were polishing the coats of the beautiful horses, till they shone again.
All these activities Ruth Fielding could see through the tiny windows of the queen's van, in which she and Helen Cameron were imprisoned. Her chum roused, too, but was half tempted to cry, when she remembered their circumstances. Queen Zelaya had gone out.
"Come on!" exclaimed Ruth. "We've got to make the best of it. Get on your dress and shoes, and perhaps they will let us out, too."
"Let's run away, Ruthie," whispered Helen.
"The very first chance we get—sure we will!" agreed her chum.
They found the door unlocked, and, as nobody stayed them, the two girls descended the steps to the ground. A cross-looking dog came and smelled of them, but the bold-looking girl who had brought the supper the night before drove him away.
Ruth essayed to speak to her, but she shook her head and laughed. Perhaps she did not understand much English.
Ruth was looking around eagerly for Roberto. Had she seen the Gypsy boy, she would certainly have thrown herself—and Helen—upon him for protection. But although not many of the Gypsies looked unkindly toward the girls, none appeared really friendly.
The woman who had aided in their capture the night before took them down to the water, where they might wash their faces and hands and comb their hair, using the toilet requisites from their bags. Nobody had offered to interfere with them in any manner, or touch their belongings. The woman waited patiently until they were ready, and took them back to the camping ground for breakfast.
But Ruth had seen something. At first she dared not whisper it to her chum. After they had eaten (and a very good breakfast it was that the Gypsies gave them), she managed to get Helen out of earshot of the watchers.
Everybody in the camp watched the prisoners. The girls were not driven back into the van again at once, but Ruth saw that even the children circled about her and Helen, at a little distance, so that the girls were continuously guarded.
They sat down upon an old stump, in an open space, where nobody could creep near enough to hear what Ruth said to Helen without one or the other of the captives seeing the eavesdropper.
"What is it?" asked Helen, anxiously. "Oh, Ruth! where do you suppose Tom is? What can he think of us?"
"I only hope Tom won't come along here alone and fall into trouble, too," said the girl of the Red Mill, in return. "But I believe there is a chance for us to get away without his help, dear."
"Did you look along the shore when we were down there to the lake just now?"
"Yes. In both directions. There wasn't a soul in sight but you and myself and that woman," returned Helen, showing that she had been observant to a degree, at least.
"You are right. It is a lonely spot. I saw nobody. But I saw a fishing punt."
"A fishing punt?"
"Yes. Pulled up on the shore a little way. There is a pole in it, too. It can be pushed off into the water easily, and I did not see another boat of any kind in either direction."
"Oh, Ruth! Neither did I. I didn't even see the boat you speak of."
"It is there just the same. We can reach it in one minute from here—by running."
"Let's run, then!" whispered Helen, energetically.
"We'll wait our chance. They are watching too closely now. By and by they must get more careless. Then we'll try it."
"But I don't just see what we can do in that boat," queried Helen, after a moment's thought.
"Push out into the lake, so that they can't reach us. Then risk being seen by Tom or somebody else who will help us escape the Gypsies."
"But these men will follow us," said Helen, with a shudder. "They can swim—some of them—surely."
"And if they try it, we'll beat them off with the push-pole," declared Ruth. "Keep up your pluck, Helen. They will not really dare hurt us—especially if they expect to get money for our release. And I'd like to know," added Ruth, with rather a bitter little laugh, "who will pay my ransom?"
"I'll make father pay whatever they ask," whispered Helen. "Oh, dear! won't he be just mad when he hears about it?"
Soon the activities of the camp changed. It was plain to the two girls that their captors had no intention of spending the day in this dell by the lake side.
A number of the men and boys had gone off with some of the horses early. Now they returned, and it was evident that the men were angry, if not a little frightened. They talked loudly with Zelaya, and the Queen of the Gypsies seemed to be scolding them soundly.
It was surprising to the visitors at the camp that the old woman should have such influence over these black-browed ruffians. But she did possess a power; it was self-evident!
Soon preparations were begun for shifting camp. The tents were struck and all the paraphernalia of the camp was returned to the three vans.
"Something has happened," whispered Ruth to Helen. "Perhaps Tom has raised the hue and cry for us, and they are afraid of being caught here with us in their possession."
"Mean old things!" snapped Helen. "I wish they would all be caught and put into jail."
"The little children, too?"
"The little ones will grow up to be big ones—and they are all bad," declared Helen, with confidence.
"I can't believe that Roberto is bad," said Ruth, thoughtfully. "I wish he was with them now. I believe he would help us get away."
"Maybe these are not his people."
"I think they are," returned Ruth. But she did not say anything then to Helen about the pearl necklace, and the cashbox of Queen Zelaya.
The necklace was never out of Ruth's thought, however, for she was sure it had been stolen. The girl of the Red Mill would know the necklace again; wherever she might see it.
In the first place it was the most beautiful necklace she had ever seen. But there was a peculiar pendant attached to it—in the shape of a fleur-de-lis—of larger pearls, that would distinguish it among any number of such articles of adornment.
Ruth kept in mind the chance she hoped would arise for their escape. Helen was hopeless; but she had agreed to make the attempt, if Ruth did.
The whole camp was busy in preparing for departure. There were not so many eyes now upon the girls. And—therefore—there being no regular guard set over them, the opportunity Ruth hoped for arose.
In harnessing one of the horses to a van, something happened to call most of the excited crowd together. The horse kicked, and one of the men was hurt.
The moment the shouting over this incident arose, Ruth pinched Helen and they both got up and slipped into the wood. They were out of sight in a moment, and having chosen the side toward the lake, they set off at top speed through the underbrush for the spot where Ruth had seen the fishing punt.
"Suppose it leaks?" gasped Helen, running hard beside her friend.
"Well! we'll know it when we're in deep water," grimly returned Ruth.
At that moment they heard a great hullabaloo at the camp behind them.
"They've discovered we're missing," gasped Helen.
"Come on, then!" cried Ruth. "Let's see if we can outwit them. We've got a chance for liberty, my dear. Don't lose heart."