“Others weave for us and we must take what comes.”
“I must go,” he said. “Is there any more fortune for me?”
“Yes, there is a great deal to tell.”
“I will come some other day and get the rest of it, I must go,” he said, placing a piece of money in her hand. “I suppose you get a great many silver pieces in this way.”
“Oh, yes,” she answered, placing the money in a well-filled beaded bag. “Yes, almost every afternoon the 61 young ladies and gentlemen from the city come here.”
“Well, I cannot see that I have learned anything,” said the young man, thinking that she had given him all that her wicked heart would allow, and that the criminal part was given through spite from his having interfered in the whipping of Zula. He went to the door of the tent and bade Zula good-bye, then wandered away through the woods.
“Oh, dear,” said Zula to herself, with eyes filling with tears; “why cannot I stay with some one who is kind to me? I wish I could get back home to dear Mr. and Mrs. Platts, and I will, too, some day. How kind they were to me. If I ever get a chance to hurt Crisp I’ll do it. I believe I’ll kill him.”
The thought had scarcely passed through Zula’s brain ere she shuddered at its coming.
“How terrible that would be,” she added. “Oh, I wish I could get away from him; I know if I do not I shall do something terribly wicked. If I could only get home again I could be good. I do not feel so wicked when I am with dear Mrs. Platts. I wonder why.”
It was not strange that Zula should feel a spirit of revenge while in the presence of Crisp and his mother.