“Yes, for we are the ones at fault. They did not go to us; we came to them.”
“Then you wish me to act the coward’s part by hiding their theft, and the attempt upon our lives?”
“Yes, all; all for the sake of your mother. Oh, to think that the very first evening of my coming I should be the cause of bringing anxiety and perhaps anguish upon her! Promise me, Fred, or I will not return to your house.”
“You would despise me when you reflected upon it,” commented the young man moodily. “Were I to follow your advice I would be of no credit to you.”
“What credit would it be to you, or to anyone, to quarrel with gypsies? Supposing you were victorious and killed one or more of them, what would it add to your advantage or happiness?”
“The woman insulted and frightened you. What man worthy of the name would allow it to go unpunished?”
“Words do not kill; I care nothing about them, and would not have told you only to warn you of the danger we were in. We were the aggressors.”
“They should be driven from the neighborhood, which the authorities cannot do unless complaint be made against them, and you will not let me make it.”
“We are unharmed, and have no right to complain against them when it was our own fault. They may not have stolen the horse, but bought it from someone who did, as I am sure if they had stolen it they would not encamp so near Springfield, where at any moment the horse is liable to be recognized.”
“That looks reasonable,” said Fred, reflectively.