“Never mind the blankets. We have others in the car.”
“You saved Sybarina?” repeated the old woman, staggering to her feet. She had been temporarily paralyzed from the electric bolt, and was as yet barely able to stand on her feet.
“Please don’t mention it,” urged Harriet, flushing.
The old woman seized Harriet’s hand and gazed deeply into it by the light of the burning barn. As she gazed she swayed her body from side to side with quick, nervous movements.
“Ah! Sybarina sees that which pleases her,” crooned the old woman. “She sees a noble girl whom the fires from the skies cannot frighten. And she sees more. She sees wealth and happiness and a great future for her who fears not the fire from above. Sybarina gives you her blessing.”
A heavy hand was laid on the old woman’s shoulder.
“Here, you Gipsy woman. Were you sleeping in that barn?” demanded a gruff voice.
“I met two Gipsy men running across the fields to the west as I came down,” answered another male voice. “The Gipsies are camped about a mile and a half from here. I think we ought to arrest the old woman, don’t you, Squire?”
“Sybarina was asleep in the barn,” admitted the Gipsy woman.
“And you set the barn on fire, too,” declared the squire. “I’ll have to arrest you.”