“I have told you. Sybarina’s people will be on guard. You need have no fear. And when the princess with the fair hair returns, she shall be led to the Gipsy camp. Come.”
“Wait please, until we fix our camp and leave a message for Miss McCarthy,” said Miss Elting.
So excited were the Meadow-Brook Girls at the prospect of spending a night in a Gipsy camp that they almost forgot the thrilling experiences through which they had passed. There were few preparations to be made. Miss Elting pocketed her revolver, though she had no idea that she would need it. She knew that the old Gipsy woman might be trusted; that a Gipsy never forgets a favor—nor a wrong. Sybarina felt under deep obligations to them for what they had done for her. By inviting them to her camp she was conferring upon them the highest possible mark of her regard, as the guardian who knew something of the wandering tribes of Gipsies was well aware.
The camp was some little distance from where the Meadow-Brook tent was pitched. A note for Jane was pinned to the tent flap on the same spot where she had pinned hers; then the party set out through the darkness. Not a man of the tribe was to be seen. The guardian asked no questions. She knew that Sybarina’s word was law and that keen eyes were upon the Meadow-Brook camp, that no marauders would be permitted to enter there that night. Sybarina led the way as if it were a familiar path, calling out now and then to warn the travelers of a root or a stone that lay unseen in the path they were following. How she was aware of the presence of the obstacles the girls could not imagine.
They came in sight of the dull glow of the Gipsy campfire after a quarter of an hour’s walking. Then as they stepped into the circle of light, many inquiring eyes were fixed upon them. There were dark-eyed, olive-complexioned women of various ages, children clad in bright colors, some sitting under wagons eating bread and butter, others peering from the gaudily painted wagons, and still others lying asleep upon the ground just outside the circle. Horses might have been heard munching at the foliage out in the bushes, occasionally neighing or stamping. The fire crackled merrily. It was a bright but unfamiliar scene to the Meadow-Brook Girls.
Tommy and Margery were a trifle apprehensive.
“Where are we going to thleep?” questioned Tommy cautiously.
“I don’t know, dear,” returned Miss Elting. “Sybarina will provide a place when the time comes. We have our own blankets. I think we may sleep out of doors if we wish to do so. But we have a long evening before us yet. It is your opportunity to learn something of the life and habits of the Gipsies.”
“Thay, Mith Elting do—do you think it thafe to thtay here?” questioned Tommy.
“Perfectly so. Much more so than in our own camp this evening.”