"What does she object to in us?"
"Nay," says he, "that is more than I can say. She is as full of prediction, whimsies, and foreboding as a dog-fox is of cunning. She has lived a long while, d'ye see, and can read the signs. She has forseen many a corpse, by looking at the moon. Many's the man-child she's brought into the world. And only last year when she heard the wind soughing through the branches, she told not only the day but the very hour that Jerry Boswell came to be hanged."
This sinister reference did nothing to ease us. Looking around, the cunning and superstition that was everywhere about us took a direr significance. As their resentment in no wise abated, it struck us that we should do well to resume our way. But the man with the flute assured us that we were under no necessity, for since we had sat at meat with them, the mischief, if any, was already done. He said besides that his people were the civillest in the world, and whatever their fear of us, they would be the last to visit their dislike upon us. As the fire was so bright and genial, and our present position, despite any little inconveniences that might arise therefrom, was so much more to be desired than any other we were likely to lie in that night, we were seduced to remain. It may have been against our better judgment that we took this course, or like the gypsies themselves, we may have had an instinct of something impending, for in the end we were to rue it bitterly.
Our friend with the flute, doubtless to compose the minds of his more nervous brethren, began a strange sort of melody. It was played not very well to be sure, but they gave an alert attention to it that furnished an instance of the power of music on untutored minds. Presently one of the women broke into a song to match the air. It was in the gypsy language, and though sung in a low crooning voice and a primitive fashion, it was by no means unpleasing, whilst its weird character was highly appropriate to the place in which it was performed. The rude audience was vastly soothed by it too; their fierce looks grew softer; and soon they fell to regarding the music entirely instead of Cynthia and myself.
When the flute-player had given his melody, he politely handed the instrument to me, with the request that if I had any skill in the art I should give one also. Being as I have said an amateur of the flute, and being like all other amateurs as I have observed, never in any situation averse to display my poor aptitude, I struck up a ranting air from the Beggar's Opera. I was surprised to find how excellent the instrument was, and was therefore able to enter into the performance as much for my own gratification as for theirs. When I had finished I was agreeably surprised to find how warmly my efforts were received. The former player wrung my hand, and, strange as it may appear, many eyes shone about me with pleasure and admiration. Nothing would content them but I must play again. Mightily pleased with my success, as every person who seeks the approbation of the public invariably is, I needed no second invitation, but ventured on a more ambitious piece. With many a spring and trill and roulade I ranted it into their ears. They followed me with rapt attention, and again and again would have me play. How long I continued to do so I do not know. For seeing the singular pleasure they took from it, I should have been a churl indeed not to gratify such hospitable and simple people. Therefore I poured out all the tunes I knew for their behoof.
Little did we reck however of the calamity that was about to befall us. The old woman, it is true, had had a premonition of something impending. Had it been concerned with the effect as well as the cause much might have been spared us. As it was, no catastrophe could have come more swiftly, unexpectedly, or completely. I was still in the height of my music, and the group around the fire were absorbed in it wholly, when this unhappy interruption came. Without a sound of warning a dozen forms or more suddenly sprang into being out of a ditch hard by, and rushed into our midst. By the light of the moon we could observe enough of them as they came to see that they were armed with formidable staves, and clearly meant mischief.
We had only just time to spring to our feet before they were upon us. What their business was we did not stay to inquire; indeed, it was soon evident that my friends, the gypsies, were only too intimately acquainted with it. Without passing a word they resisted this onslaught with all the vigour they could summon. One or two ran into the tents close at hand to procure weapons of defence; others produced their knives; whilst the old crone, who along among the gypsy women was not barefooted snatched off one of her boots and brandished it fiercely. As for Cynthia and I, we were so taken aback by this strange situation that we did not know what course to pursue. We had neither art nor part in this quarrel whatever its nature. Besides, we were weaponless and utterly at a loss to understand whether submission or resistance might serve us the better.
The aggressors, whatever their impetuosity, stopped short at first of actual violence. Seeing the uncompromising attitude of the gypsies, the foremost man, a fine strapping fellow as ever I saw, halted a few yards off, put up his hand to speak, and said with a great air of authority:
"Now, you Egyptians, let me give you a word of advice before we come to blows. You have no chance at all. You are outnumbered by three to one, and whatever blood is shed, will be to your hurt. Whatever polls are broken will not save any man Jack of you a hanging. I summon you to put down your weapons, and the women shall go free. But I arrest every man of you in the name of the High Sheriff for stealing sheep."
The reply of the sheep-stealers was brief enough in all conscience.