She went back to her stool, mumbling to herself. Ruth lifted Helen into one of the berths, and sat down beside her. By and by the door of the van opened again and a bold-looking young woman—not the one that had brought them to the van—came in with three wooden bowls of a savory stew. She offered the tray to the visitors at a motion from old Zelaya, so that they had their choice before the queen received her own supper.
"Let's eat it," whispered Ruth to Helen, when she saw that Zelaya plunged her own tin spoon into the stew. "It surely isn't drugged, or she wouldn't touch it."
They ate greedily, for both were hungry. It takes more than fear to spoil the healthy appetite of youth!
"Do you suppose," whispered Helen, "that we could climb out of one of these windows after she falls asleep?"
"I am sure I couldn't get through one," returned Ruth. "And I doubt if you could. Besides, there will be guards, and the dogs are awake. We've got to wait for help from outside, my dear."
"Do you suppose Tom will find us?"
"I hope not!" exclaimed Ruth. "Not while he is alone. But he certainly will give the alarm, and the whole countryside will be aroused."
"Oh, dear, me! this old woman seems so sure that she can hold us captive."
"I think she is crazy," Ruth declared. "And the other Gypsies must lack good sense, too, or they would not be governed by her."
The queen gobbled down her supper and then prepared to retire to her own bunk. She told the girls to do the same, and they removed their shoes and outer garments and lay down—one on one side of the wagon, and one on the other.