But the fugitive had gained too much upon them; the shout warned him to quicken his pace; in an instant he was under the ash-tree; and in another, by the aid of its stout branches, he was at the top of the cliff. There he paused for but one instant, then turned and hurried on. His departing figure lessened rapidly to the eyes of those who followed him, and at length he disappeared.
Three of the pursuers climbed up by the aid of the ash-tree, as he had done; but as a fourth was mounting, he happened to turn his eyes below, and beheld the object of the chase down in the valley, and in the act of crossing the river, which rose to his arm-pits. By a bold manœuvre he had put the hounds at fault, and by the time the men were called down from above, was out of sight.
A short consultation was held amongst the tribe; and then they all quietly returned to their usual habits. The women and the children betook themselves again to their tents, the basket-maker came down and plied his trade more wakefully below; the young man who had been sitting with his back against the huge rock abandoned his post, and remained talking, within the little basin, to another of the tribe; and his fellow-watcher on the outside, lay down at the back of the encampment, and went to sleep.
About five minutes after, coming at great speed, the gipsey woman, Sally Stanley, approached the place from the lower part of the valley. There was anxiety in her look, and she gazed eagerly over the two shingly mounds, as if in search of what she did not see, and then with a step quickened almost to a run, she entered the little amphitheatre of cliff, advancing straight to the youth who had been stationed at the pass between the two rocks.
"Is he gone?" she asked, in breathless eagerness, "Is he gone?"
"Yes, Sally; he is gone," replied the young man; "but it was not my fault, for he--"
"Fault!" cried the woman, "it might be no one's fault; for what right have I to command? what need have you to obey? But cursed be he who let him go; for he has done a bad act; he has killed one who has always been kind to us; and the blood of the gipsey's friend be upon his head;" and without waiting for reply, she ran out of the circle of rock; and, with the speed of lightning, hurried down the valley. Cutting off every angle, finding paths where none appeared, and footing on places which a goat could hardly have trod, she darted on till she reached the spot where, opening out with an ever-gentle descent to the plain, the hill-valley was lost in other sweeps of the ground, and the common foot-path entered into the cultivated grounds, taking its onward course between two close hedges in the form of a lane. She looked upon the somewhat moist sand beneath her feet with eagerness, and examined it carefully for several yards. Then, murmuring to herself, "He has not passed!--he cannot have passed!" she placed herself behind the decayed trunk of an old willow, and, waiting, watched with an attentive ear.
Two minutes had not elapsed when a step was heard; and then Lockwood was seen coming along the lane at a rapid pace, with a thick newly-cut stick in his hand. The woman instantly darted forth and threw herself before him.
"Get out of my way!" he said, in a stern tone, as soon as he saw her. "I am angry, and I would not do anything unbecoming. You may have done mischief enough already. Do not do more by making me forget myself."
But she persevered in her attempts to stop him.