No wonder that the children in the little romantic towns through which they passed—many of them hardly yet dressed, so early was it—rushed to their doors to wave their caps or stockings at the show as it passed.
The 'Gipsy Queen,' with her large windows chastely but brightly curtained, her varnish and her gilding, looked as elegant and beautiful outside as she did inside. And not a single article had been forgotten that might conduce to comfort or luxury. There was even a small yacht-piano in one corner of the large caravan, and bright fires of coal and coke burned in each.
When they drew rein in the square of a small market-town to water the horses, quite a crowd of well-dressed, wondering people gathered round to see the sight. But one glance told them that this was no ordinary show, but gentle gipsies on a tour.
Antony lifted Lotty down from the coupé of her carriage after he had given orders to put the nose-bags on the horses and cover up their loins. Then, while Mary entered the large caravan to see about things generally, youth and beauty went gladsomely off hand in hand to look at the shops and make little purchases, for souvenirs in the shape of photos of scenery would be bought wherever they went.
But every village all around and about here had a strange, romantic interest. It was, or had been, a Jacobite country, and the sturdy races still dwelt up among the mountains yonder whose forefathers had fought and died for bonny Prince Charlie. Though more than a hundred and fifty years had passed since Culloden, that unfortunate Prince, Antony soon found out, still held a place in story and song and deeply down in the hearts of the people. At one shop where our young folks called, Antony happened to allude to Charlie as the Pretender. He could see from the mantling blood in the shopkeeper's brow that he had made a mistake.
'Pardon me, sir,' he said, 'but you must not use that word in this part of the country, and still less up in the hills. Charles was the rightful king by descent from the ancient Stuart line, and no pretender.'
The weather was certainly cold, but it was gloriously fine for the present, and one beauty of the tour lay in the fact that there was no need to hurry, and no rehearsal at midday for exhibition at nightfall. The midday halt for luncheon was made by the roadside, deep down in a pine-shaded glade, and near to a clear stream that ran seawards over a bed of yellow sand. They were lucky enough, moreover, to secure at night a pitch for the caravans in a delightfully quiet and level little meadow, and no sooner had they been drawn in than Mary proceeded to cook dinner. This was done partly on the large oil-range in the pantry of the 'Gipsy Queen,' and partly outside on a fire built in the real gipsy style on the sward.
Lotty had disappeared, and Antony was wondering where she was, when she came tripping along with her lap full of beautiful flowers and foliage.
'Why, Lotty, wherever did you get these at this time of the year?'
'I only mentioned to the hotel master,' said the girl, 'that I loved flowers, and that you, Mr Blake, did. That was all; and he went straight away to his glass-house and gathered me all these.'