"You are a wonderful girl, Cora, and your world must also be wonderful. I have no fear of its strange ways—but my money? How shall I ever be able to get that?"
"Never fear about the money," replied Cora cheerily. "What is rightfully yours you will get. My friends are always the friends of justice."
"And they will not fear the tribe?"
"The tribe will fear them. Wait and see. Now, what shall I sing—the
'Gypsy's Warning?'"
"Yes," and Helka lay back on her low divan.
Again Cora fingered the guitar. Daintily her fingers awoke the chords. Then she sang, first low, then fuller and fuller until her voice rang out in the night.
"Trust him not, oh, gentle lady,
Though his voice be low and sweet,
For he only seeks to win you,
Then to crush you at his feet!"
At each stanza Cora seemed to gain new power in her voice. Helka raised herself on her arm. She was enchanted. The last line had not died on Cora's lips when Helka repeated:
"Yes, I am the gypsy's only child!"
The remark was rather a plaint, and Cora came over very close to Helka.