ROBERTO AGAIN
Ruth cried a little. But, after all, it was more because she was lonely than for any other reason. What would eventually happen to her in the Gypsy queen's toils she did not know. She had not begun to worry about that as yet.
Helen had gotten clear away. She was confident of that, and was likewise sure that her chum would rouse the authorities and come in search of her. Tom, too, was faithful; he must already be stirring up the whole neighborhood to find his sister and Ruth.
How far the caravan had traveled the night before, after the girls had joined the Gypsies, Ruth could not guess. But she realized that now they were making very good time up the road leading to Boisé Landing, along the edge of Long Lake.
There might be some pursuit already. If Tom had telegraphed his father, Mr. Cameron would come looking for Helen "on the jump"! And had the searchers any idea the Gypsies had captured the two girls, Ruth was sure that the wanderers would get into trouble very quickly.
"Why, even Uncle Jabez would 'start something,' as Tom would say, if he learned of this. I believe, even if I am not 'as good as a boy,' that Uncle Jabez loves me and would not let a parcel of tramps carry me off like this."
She wiped away the tears, therefore, and in looking into a cloudy little mirror screwed to the wall of the vehicle, she found that the tears did not wash off the walnut stain. She had been dyed with a "fast color," sure enough!
"If Heavy and The Fox, or Belle and Lluella could see me now!" thought Ruth Fielding.
Suddenly the caravan halted. There were shouts and cries, and evidently the other vans were being emptied of their occupants in a hurry. Some of the men seemed to be arguing in English at the head of the queen's van.
Ruth believed that a searching party had overtaken the Gypsies. She feared there would be a fight, and she was anxious to show herself, so that her unknown rescuers might see her.
But she dared not scream. Old Zelaya scowled at her so savagely and threatened her so angrily with her clenched fist, that Ruth dared not speak. Finally the old woman opened the door of the van and flung her down the steps.
The act was so unexpected that Ruth fell into the arms of the crowd waiting for her. It was evidently ready for her appearance. The boys and girls, and some of the women, received her into their midst, and they made so much noise, chattering and shrieking, and dancing about her, that Ruth was both confused and frightened.
Had she herself shrieked aloud, her voice would have been drowned in the general hullabaloo. This noise was all intentional on the part of the Gypsies, for up at the head of the caravan Ruth caught a glimpse of a big man standing with a stout oak club in his hand and a big shiny star pinned to his vest near the armhole.
A constable! Whether he was there searching for her and Helen, or was merely making inquiries about a robbed hen-roost, the girl from the Red Mill could not guess. There was so much confusion about her, that she could not hear a word the constable said!
She waved her hand to him and tried to attract his attention. The girls and boys laughed at her, and pulled her about, and the bold girl she had seen before almost tore the frock from her shoulders.
Suddenly Ruth realized that, even did the constable look right at her, he would not discover that she was a white girl. She looked just as disreputable in every way as the Gypsy children themselves!
The constable came toward the first van. Zelaya now sat upon the top step, smoking a cheroot, and nodding in the sun as though she were too old and too feeble to realize what was going on. Yet Ruth was sure that the sly old queen had planned this scene and told her tribesmen what to do.
Ruth was whisked away from the steps of the queen's van, and borne off by the shouting, dancing children. She tried to cry out so that the constable would hear her, but the crowd drowned her cries.
She saw the constable search each of the three vans. Of course, he found no girls answering to the descriptions of Ruth and Helen—and it was the girls that he was searching for. He was Sim Peck, the blacksmith-constable from Severn Corners. It was a pity Tom Cameron had not been with him!
Finally Ruth saw that the man had given up the search, and the Gypsies were going to depart. She determined to make a desperate attempt to attract his attention to herself.
She suddenly sprang through the group of children, knocking the bold girl down in her effort, and started, yelling, for the constable. Instantly one of the men halted her, swung her about, clapped a palm over her mouth, and she saw him staring balefully down into her face.
"You do that ageen—I keel you!" he hissed.
It was the evil-eyed man who had spied upon Queen Zelaya, as she had worshipped the pearl necklace in the van the evening before. Ruth was stricken dumb and motionless. The man looked wicked enough to do just what he said he would.
She saw the constable depart. Then the Gypsies huddled into the wagons, and she was seized by Zelaya and put into the first van. The old witch was grinning broadly.
"Ah, ha!" she chuckled. "What does the Gentile girl think now? That she shall escape so easily Zelaya? Ha! she is already like one of our own kind. Her own parents would not know her—nor shall they see her again until they have paid, and paid in full!"
"You are holding the wrong girl, Zelaya," murmured Ruth. "My parents are dead, and there is nobody to pay you a great ransom for me."
"False!" croaked the hag, and struck her again.
The caravan rolled on after that for a long way. It did not stop for dinner, and Ruth grew very hungry, for she and Helen had been too excited that morning to eat much breakfast.
Through the open door and the forward window Ruth saw considerable of the road. They were seldom out of sight of the lake. By and by they turned right down to the water's edge and she heard the horses' feet splashing through the shallow water.
She could not imagine where they were going. Out of the door she saw that they seemed to be leaving the land and striking right out into the lake. The water grew deeper slowly, rising first over one step and then another, while the shore of the lake receded behind them. The other vans and the boys driving the horses followed in their wake.
Curious, Ruth arose and went to the forward end of the van. She could see out between the driver and his wife, and over the heads of the horses. The latter were almost shoulder deep now, and were advancing very slowly.
Some rods ahead she saw that there was a wooded island. It was of good size and seemed to be densely covered with trees and brush. Yet, there was a patch of sandy shore toward which the horses were being urged.
The lake was so low, that there was a fordable stretch of its bottom between the mainland and this island. These Gypsies seemed to know this bar perfectly, and the driver of the queen's van made no mistake in guiding his span.
In half an hour the horses were trotting through the shallows again. They rolled out upon the white beach, and then Ruth saw that a faint wagon trail led into the interior of the island.
The Gypsies had been there before. There, in the middle of the wooded isle, was a clearing. The moment the vans arrived, all the people jumped out, laughing and talking, and the usual preparations for an encampment were begun. Only, in this case, Queen Zelaya sent the squint-eyed man and the ruffian who had so frightened Ruth to either shore of the island to keep watch.
Tents were set up, fires kindled, a great supper begun, and the poultry was set loose to roam at will. Somewhere the Gypsy children had picked up a kid and a little calf. Both of these were freed, and at once began to butt each other, to the vast delight of the little ones.
All about, under-foot and growling if they were disturbed, were the ugly dogs. Ruth was afraid of them!
Now that they were on the island, the Gypsies gave her slight attention. The children did not come near her, and she was glad of that. Of course, the adults knew she could not escape.
Later she heard one of the men on the shore shout. Nobody was disturbed at the camp, but after a little, there was some loud conversation and then somebody broke through the bushes and appeared suddenly in the little clearing.
Ruth Fielding gasped and sprang to her feet. Nobody noticed her.
The newcomer was Roberto. He strode swiftly across the camp to the queen's van. Zelaya sat upon the steps and when he came before her, he bowed very respectfully.
The old woman showed more emotion at his appearance than Ruth believed possible. She got up quickly and kissed the boy on both of his cheeks. Her eyes sparkled and she talked with him for some time in the Tzigane tongue.
Once or twice Roberto glanced in Ruth's direction, as though he and the old woman had been speaking of the captive girl. But, to the latter's surprise, she saw no look of recognition in the Gypsy boy's eyes.
Finally, when he parted from the queen, Roberto crossed the encampment directly toward Ruth. The girl, fearful, yet hoping he would see and know her, rose to her feet and took a single step toward him.
Roberto turned upon her fiercely. He struck at her with his arm and pushed Ruth roughly back into her seat. But although the action was so cruel and his look so hateful, the girl heard him whisper:
"Wait! Let the little lady have no fear!"
Then he passed on to greet his friends about the nearest campfire.