She looked at him with a troubled and questioning eye. He was a mystery to her then, and the child was striving to fathom the new feeling that she saw in his countenance.
“No! Chaleco never came here with me at night—never at all since we were little children! Have I not told you that he is my betrothed?”
She spoke sadly, almost in tears.
“Well, is not that a good reason why he of all others should overwhelm you with this sweet Rommany, here by moonlight, as you now stand with me?”
“Oh, that could never happen,” she exclaimed eagerly, “they would take the countship from him—they would drive us both ignominiously from the tribe; you do not know our ways, our laws. Of all the men in our tribe, Chaleco would not dare to seek me here.”
“Why?”
“It is not permitted; we are betrothed, and so never must be alone; it would be infamy!”
“And to be here with me, is that nothing?”
“There is no law that keeps us from seeking the Busne. It is our duty. From them we win most gold!”
The young man recoiled.