The little thing gave Rose a grateful glance, but seemed too astonished to reply. The party immediately set off toward the indicated pavilion, and reached it without adventure, though every one they passed stared at them in amazement. Rowena evidently would have preferred to stay behind, except that she did not want to be left alone. In her eyes the little Jewess was a nuisance at the least, and it was clear that she could not understand what possessed her two friends in acting toward her with such kindness.
Within sight of the place where her father had pitched his shelter, Rebecca looked up at her two rescuers.
“Thank you, highborn damsels, most gracious ladies,” she stammered, her voice tremulous. “Now I am safe—ye will not want to come farther.” Pressing her hands to her forehead, to her lips and to her breast, she made a deep salaam. “Farewell, and a thousand, thousand thanks.”
And then she darted toward the pavilion like a young antelope, disappearing within its shelter with one backward, smiling look.
“Isn’t she a little wonder,” exclaimed Ruth. And at that moment a loud blare of trumpets shivered the air.
“The tournament is to begin again,” cried Rowena. “Let us hasten back....”
They turned, but everything blurred before their eyes. The brightly dressed people, the decorated lists, the gay tents, the great horses in their splendid trappings. A second’s dizziness....
“Wasn’t it gorgeous!”
They both said it at the same instant, opening their eyes on their own familiar room.
“But I don’t think I would care to live with Rowena after all,” Rose added. “Those times looked all right—but——”