Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies Part 19

The act was so unexpected that Ruth fell into the arms of the crowd waiting for her. It was evidently ready for her appearance. The boys and girls, and some of the women, received her into their midst, and they made so much noise, chattering and shrieking, and dancing about her, that Ruth was both confused and frightened.

Had she herself shrieked aloud, her voice would have been drowned in the general hullabaloo. This noise was all intentional on the part of the Gypsies, for up at the head of the caravan Ruth caught a glimpse of a big man standing with a stout oak club in his hand and a big s.h.i.+ny star pinned to his vest near the armhole.

A constable! Whether he was there searching for her and Helen, or was merely making inquiries about a robbed hen-roost, the girl from the Red Mill could not guess. There was so much confusion about her, that she could not hear a word the constable said!

She waved her hand to him and tried to attract his attention. The girls and boys laughed at her, and pulled her about, and the bold girl she had seen before almost tore the frock from her shoulders.

Suddenly Ruth realized that, even did the constable look right at her, he would not discover that she was a white girl. She looked just as disreputable in every way as the Gypsy children themselves!

The constable came toward the first van. Zelaya now sat upon the top step, smoking a cheroot, and nodding in the sun as though she were too old and too feeble to realize what was going on. Yet Ruth was sure that the sly old queen had planned this scene and told her tribesmen what to do.

Ruth was whisked away from the steps of the queen's van, and borne off by the shouting, dancing children. She tried to cry out so that the constable would hear her, but the crowd drowned her cries.

She saw the constable search each of the three vans. Of course, he found no girls answering to the descriptions of Ruth and Helen--and it was the girls that he was searching for. He was Sim Peck, the blacksmith-constable from Severn Corners. It was a pity Tom Cameron had not been with him!

Finally Ruth saw that the man had given up the search, and the Gypsies were going to depart. She determined to make a desperate attempt to attract his attention to herself.

She suddenly sprang through the group of children, knocking the bold girl down in her effort, and started, yelling, for the constable.

Instantly one of the men halted her, swung her about, clapped a palm over her mouth, and she saw him staring balefully down into her face.

"You do that ageen--I keel you!" he hissed.

It was the evil-eyed man who had spied upon Queen Zelaya, as she had wors.h.i.+pped the pearl necklace in the van the evening before. Ruth was stricken dumb and motionless. The man looked wicked enough to do just what he said he would.

She saw the constable depart. Then the Gypsies huddled into the wagons, and she was seized by Zelaya and put into the first van. The old witch was grinning broadly.

"Ah, ha!" she chuckled. "What does the Gentile girl think now? That she shall escape so easily Zelaya? Ha! she is already like one of our own kind. Her own parents would not know her--nor shall they see her again until they have paid, and paid in full!"

"You are holding the wrong girl, Zelaya," murmured Ruth. "_My_ parents are dead, and there is n.o.body to pay you a great ransom for me."

"False!" croaked the hag, and struck her again.

The caravan rolled on after that for a long way. It did not stop for dinner, and Ruth grew very hungry, for she and Helen had been too excited that morning to eat much breakfast.

Through the open door and the forward window Ruth saw considerable of the road. They were seldom out of sight of the lake. By and by they turned right down to the water's edge and she heard the horses' feet splas.h.i.+ng through the shallow water.

She could not imagine where they were going. Out of the door she saw that they seemed to be leaving the land and striking right out into the lake. The water grew deeper slowly, rising first over one step and then another, while the sh.o.r.e of the lake receded behind them. The other vans and the boys driving the horses followed in their wake.

Curious, Ruth arose and went to the forward end of the van. She could see out between the driver and his wife, and over the heads of the horses. The latter were almost shoulder deep now, and were advancing very slowly.

Some rods ahead she saw that there was a wooded island. It was of good size and seemed to be densely covered with trees and brush. Yet, there was a patch of sandy sh.o.r.e toward which the horses were being urged.

The lake was so low, that there was a fordable stretch of its bottom between the mainland and this island. These Gypsies seemed to know this bar perfectly, and the driver of the queen's van made no mistake in guiding his span.

In half an hour the horses were trotting through the shallows again.

They rolled out upon the white beach, and then Ruth saw that a faint wagon trail led into the interior of the island.

The Gypsies had been there before. There, in the middle of the wooded isle, was a clearing. The moment the vans arrived, all the people jumped out, laughing and talking, and the usual preparations for an encampment were begun. Only, in this case, Queen Zelaya sent the squint-eyed man and the ruffian who had so frightened Ruth to either sh.o.r.e of the island to keep watch.

Tents were set up, fires kindled, a great supper begun, and the poultry was set loose to roam at will. Somewhere the Gypsy children had picked up a kid and a little calf. Both of these were freed, and at once began to b.u.t.t each other, to the vast delight of the little ones.

All about, under-foot and growling if they were disturbed, were the ugly dogs. Ruth was afraid of them!

Now that they were on the island, the Gypsies gave her slight attention.

The children did not come near her, and she was glad of that. Of course, the adults knew she could not escape.

Later she heard one of the men on the sh.o.r.e shout. n.o.body was disturbed at the camp, but after a little, there was some loud conversation and then somebody broke through the bushes and appeared suddenly in the little clearing.

Ruth Fielding gasped and sprang to her feet. n.o.body noticed her.

The newcomer was Roberto. He strode swiftly across the camp to the queen's van. Zelaya sat upon the steps and when he came before her, he bowed very respectfully.

The old woman showed more emotion at his appearance than Ruth believed possible. She got up quickly and kissed the boy on both of his cheeks.

Her eyes sparkled and she talked with him for some time in the Tzigane tongue.

Once or twice Roberto glanced in Ruth's direction, as though he and the old woman had been speaking of the captive girl. But, to the latter's surprise, she saw no look of recognition in the Gypsy boy's eyes.

Finally, when he parted from the queen, Roberto crossed the encampment directly toward Ruth. The girl, fearful, yet hoping he would see and know her, rose to her feet and took a single step toward him.

Roberto turned upon her fiercely. He struck at her with his arm and pushed Ruth roughly back into her seat. But although the action was so cruel and his look so hateful, the girl heard him whisper:

"Wait! Let the little lady have no fear!"

Then he pa.s.sed on to greet his friends about the nearest campfire.

CHAPTER XV

HELEN'S ESCAPE

Helen Cameron was so fearful at first of the Gypsies overtaking her, that she had no thought of any peril which might lie ahead of the drifting punt, into which she had scrambled. She realized that Ruth had sacrificed herself in their attempt to escape, but she could render her chum no help now. Indeed, the current which had seized the boat was so strong that she could not have gotten back to the sh.o.r.e, had she tried.

When the Gypsies disappeared into the wood, taking Ruth with them, Helen realized her helplessness and loneliness, and she wept. She sat in the stern of the punt and floated on and on, without regard to where she was going.

She could not have changed the course of the punt, however. She was now in too deep water; the guiding pole was of no use to her, and there were no oars, of course. She was drifting toward the middle of the lake, it seemed, yet the general direction was eastward.

There, at the lower end of the lake, a wide stream carried its waters toward the distant Minturn Dam. But long before the stream came to that place, there was much of what the local guides called "white water."

These swift rapids Helen thought little about at first. She had had no experience to warn her of her peril. At this moment she was fearful only of the wild Gypsy clan that had tried to keep her prisoner and that had, indeed, succeeded in carrying away her dear friend, Ruth Fielding.

As she floated on, she saw nothing more of the Gypsies. She began to believe that they had not turned back to follow her along the edge of the lake. They were satisfied with their single prisoner!

"But father will see to that!" sobbed Helen. "He won't let them run away with Ruth Fielding--I know he won't! Dear, dear! what would I ever do if Ruth disappeared and we shouldn't meet each other again--or not until we were quite grown up?

"Such things _have_ happened! I've read about it in books. And those dreadful Gypsies make the children they capture become Gypsies, too.