Gipsy must have had some of the Arab in her nature; for she spent almost her whole life on horseback. She heeded not the flight of time, as she thundered along, riding in the most hazardous places—sometimes narrowly escaping being dashed to pieces over precipices—sometimes leaping yawning chasms that would make many a stout hunter's head giddy. The excitement was a part—a necessity—of her nature. The almost stagnant life in the village would have driven the hot-headed, impetuous girl wild, but for the mad excitement of the chase. Brave as a young lioness—bold and free as the eagle of her native mountains—she scorned fear, and sought danger as others do safety. She knew it was putting her head into the lion's mouth to venture alone into this wild, unfrequented region, within arm's length of a desperate villain, hunted down like a furious beast; yet the idea of not venturing here never once entered her mad little head.
It was growing dark before Gipsy began to think of turning her steps homeward. Reluctantly she turned her horse's head, and set out for Mount Sunset—half regretting she had met with no adventure worth relating on her return.
As she rapidly galloped along she discovered she had ridden much farther than she had intended, and that it would be late ere she reached the hall. The dim starlight alone guided her path; for the moon had not yet risen. But Mignonne was so well accustomed to the road that he could have found his way in the dark; and Gipsy rode on gayly, humming to herself a merry hunting-chorus.
Suddenly a gleam of light from between the trees flashed across their path. Mignonne, like his mistress, being only a half-tamed thing at best, reared suddenly upright, and would have dashed off at headlong speed, had not Gipsy held the reins with a grasp of iron. Her strength was wonderful for a creature so small and slight; but her vigorous exercise had given her thews and muscles of steel. Mignonne felt he was in the hand of a master-spirit, and after a few fierce bounds and plunges, stood still and surrendered.
Rapidly alighting, Gipsy bound her horse securely, and then stole noiselessly through the trees. The cause of the light was soon discovered; and Gipsy beheld a sight that, daring and fearless as she was, for a moment froze the very blood in her veins.
A small semicircle was before her, in the center of which the remains of a fire still glowed, casting a hot, reddish glare around. By its lurid light the huge figure of a gigantic negro, whose hideous face was now frightfully convulsed with rage. On her knees at his feet was a woman, whom he grasped with one hand by the throat, and with the other brandished over her head a long, murderous knife. The sight for a moment left Gipsy's eyes, and her very heart ceased beating. Then, with the rapidity of lightning, she drew a pistol, aimed and fired.
One second more and she would have been too late. With the shriek of a madman the huge negro leaped into the air, and bounded to where she stood. She turned to fly, but ere she had advanced a yard she was in the furious grasp of the wounded monster. His red eyes were like balls of fire, he foamed, he roared with rage and pain, as with one huge hand he raised the slight form of Gipsy to dash out her brains.
In that moment of deadly peril the brave girl was as cool and self-possessed as though she were seated in safety in her guardian's parlor. A gleaming knife was stuck in his belt. Quick as thought she drew it out, and, concentrating all her strength, she plunged it in his breast.
The hot blood spurted in a gush up in her face. Without a cry the ruffian reeled, his hand relaxed, and Gipsy sprang from his grasp just as he fell heavily to the ground.
Gipsy staggered against a tree, with a deadly inclination to swoon coming over her. She covered her face with her hands to hide the ghastly form of the huge negro, lying weltering in his own blood before her. She had taken a life; and though it was done in self-defense, and to save the life of another, it lay on her heart like lead.