She had not lain there more than an hour ere she heard a pressure of the grass, and a smothered whisper 67 near by. She began to fear that the two were to commit some terrible deed, and her heart beat wildly, but she controlled every outward emotion, knowing that her only hope lay in apparent ignorance of their presence. Old Meg, holding a torch closer to her face, whispered:
“Yes, she is sound asleep; now for the search. I’m sure she has it.”
“Oh, yes, I’m pretty sure I saw her take it,” said Crisp.
Old Meg then proceeded to examine Zula’s clothing, but after a thorough search turned away in disgust.
Zula heard words which made her heart stand still, and her face grew pale; heard that which changed her resolutions and the current of her life. Three years ago it would have been impossible for her to lie there quietly and control the intermingling of anger and grief that swelled her heart; but she had learned from the teachings which she had received, as well as from experience, that no good comes of hasty passions, and calling into action all her powers of endurance, she lay as calm as a sleeping infant until Crisp and Meg left the tent.
All night she lay trying to devise means whereby she could make her escape, sleeping only at intervals. In the morning Meg entered to find what the effect of the drug had been. Zula, tired out from anxiety, had sunk into a heavy slumber. Old Meg, stooping down, looked steadily into her face, then left the tent. When the sun was going down that night she directed Crisp to see that Zula was securely tied, which work he was only too 68 eager to do. It was night. The gypsies were all sleeping soundly. A cloud had blinded the setting sun, which, continuing to spread until night came on, grew to an inky darkness. Now and then a tiny red line shot out from the blackened clouds, which were growing more and more dense, and a faint rumbling of the far away thunder could be heard. Midnight came, and Zula, with feverish anxiety, awaited the time for Fan to come and release her.
“Oh,” thought Zula, “what if Fan had fallen asleep, and forgotten all about her, or worse yet, what if she were playing a part and should tell Crisp her secret. He would have no mercy on her.” She grew nervous at the very thought. “Oh, what a risk she was running to undertake to gain her freedom. Oh, if Fan would only come.”
“Zula,” she heard whispered in the darkness.
“Oh, Fan, I am so glad you are here.”
“Hush! We must be quick, for the storm is coming on and it may wake some one.”