The thought of that other at length aroused her to action. Darting through the trees she approached the fire. The woman lay on the ground, senseless, and half strangled. The firelight, as it fell upon her, showed the face and form of an old woman, upward of fifty, poorly clad, and garments half torn off in the scuffle.
The sight restored Gipsy to her wonted composure. Kneeling down, she began chafing the old woman's hands and temples with an energy that soon restored her to consciousness. She opened her eyes and glared for a moment wildly around; then, as consciousness returned, she uttered shriek upon shriek, making the forest resound.
"Stop your screaming," said Gipsy, shaking her in her excitement. "You're safe enough now. Stop, will you. I tell you you're safe."
"Safe!" repeated the woman, wildly. "Oh, that drefful nigger——"
"He won't hurt you any more. Stop your noise, and get up, and come with me!" said Gipsy, impatiently.
"Oh! Lor' a massey! I can't git up. I'm all out o' j'int. I'm dead entirely!" groaned the woman.
"Then I shall leave you here," said Gipsy, rising.
"Oh, don't leave me!—don't, for God's sake! I'd die o' fear!" screamed the woman, grasping Gipsy's dress.
"Then, you stupid old thing, get up and come along," cried Gipsy, losing all patience, as she seized her with no gentle hand, and pulled her to her feet.
"Where 'll I go?" said the poor old creature, trembling with mortal terror, evidently as much afraid of the fierce little Amazon before her, as of the huge negro.