‘I will not go amongst that crowd and have my fortune told,’ said I.
‘I will bring the woman to you,’ exclaimed Mrs. Webber; and, full of curiosity and excitement, and with her eyes bright with the animal spirits which had been excited by the gipsy’s flattering observations, she sailed away from us.
‘What will the gipsy be able to say?’ exclaimed Mrs. Lee, laughing a little nervously. ‘But more wonderful than her predictions must be the credulity that can listen to such stuff. And stuff I call it, in spite of the old woman who told my fortune rightly. Poor Mrs. Webber! There are many ladies after her kind in this world, perfectly good-hearted creatures, but——My husband used often to say that the strongest of all human passions is curiosity, and that the speediest and surest way of making money is to work upon that passion.’
‘Here comes the gipsy woman,’ said Alice.
I felt extremely nervous and uneasy. I did not like the idea of being stared at close by that flaming-eyed toad-coloured woman. And neither did I like the idea of being stared at close by the passengers whilst the gipsy whined at me. But it was now too late to draw back; Mrs. Webber and the gipsy were coming along the deck, followed by at least two-thirds of the passengers, and now the fierce-looking woman was dropping curtsies to me and to Mrs. Lee and to Alice. She instantly addressed me in a drawling, fawning voice.
‘Ah, my sorrowful angel, it has been a bad time for you, and when I first saw your ladyship I said to myself, She’s of Egypt, and if she has bantlings they are tawny, and I cried, Tiny Jesus, what a face! for the sight of it was like poison to my heart. Oh yes, my sorrowful angel, I did think you one of us, and Roman you might well be,’ she cried with her flashing eyes fastened upon my veil, ‘but for your delicate skin and a look of high-born beauty which the likes of us never has. Come, sweet lady, cross my hand, and let it be silver, that I may tell ye your true fortune.’
By this time, we were pretty fairly surrounded by the passengers, and a little way back, with his eyes fixed full upon me, was Mr. Harris, the chief officer. The gipsy stood unpleasantly close. Her features were more massive and coarse, her complexion more loathsome, her teeth bigger and stronger if not whiter, and her eyes wilder, more flaming and more searching than I had imagined them, though I had not stood far from her when she was telling fortunes in the crowd. I remember observing many minute dots of black upon her chin, as though she shaved or had been pricked by a needle dipped in India ink. Her figure was lame and muscular, her bust enormous and slack, her whole appearance indeed so repellent now that she was close to me that I heartily wished myself in my cabin out of sight.
‘You do not mean to tell us,’ exclaimed Mr. Webber, ‘that you mistook the lady for a gipsy.’
‘Indeed I did, dear gentleman,’ she answered; ‘when she first came on board I took her for one of my people.’
‘Chaw!’ exclaimed Mr. Harris over the shoulder of Mr. Stinton.