Ruth, in the innermost depths of her mind, was secretly enjoying the whole adventure, dangerous as it was.
Mollie was feeling homesick for her mother, while Bab had no time for any thought than the one that the highwayman might appear at any moment, and from any direction. Who knew but that he had turned and doubled on them, and would spring at them from the next tree?
Presently Mollie, who was a few feet in advance of the others, paused.
“Look!” she whispered as the others came up. “I see the light of a fire through the trees. I hear voices, too.”
Sure enough, through the interlacing branches of the trees, they could distinctly see the glow of a large fire.
“Wait,” exclaimed Bah under her breath. “Stand here at the side of the road, where you will be hidden. Perhaps we may find help at last.” Creeping cautiously among the trees she disappeared in the darkness. It seemed an age to the others, waiting on the edge of the narrow woodland road, but it was only a few minutes, in reality, before Bab was back again.
“They are Gypsies,” she whispered. “I can tell by their wagons and tents.”
“Gypsies!” exclaimed Miss Sallie, with a tragic gesture of both hands. “We shall all be murdered as well as robbed!”
“No, no,” protested Mollie. “I have a friend who is a Gypsy. This may be her tribe. Suppose I go and see. Let me go. Now, Bab,” as her sister touched her with a detaining hand, “I want to do something.”
And little Mollie, with set lips and pale cheeks, her courageous heart throbbing with repressed excitement, stole off into the dense shadows of the forest.