The Man with the Double Heart Part 26

"Got 'im!" Bethune shouted his approval. "Bravo, Miss Uniacke!" as Roddy with a yell captured the cocoanut his sister had dislodged.

The crowd pressed round them, and McTaggart found himself suddenly isolated from his own party.

"Cross the gypsy's 'and, my fine gentleman..." A coaxing voice chanted in his ear.

"There's fortune for you, dearie; I see it in your face--it's coming over the seas--with a golden crown..."

Peter turned quickly. In the dim half light he looked back into a pair of glowing dark eyes: a gypsy woman's face with glossy black hair and long coral earrings hanging on each side.

He was going to draw back when he felt his hand caught; held by dark fingers, supple and strong, the palm turned upward as the husky voice went on with its curious crooning lilt, its patter of words.

"It's under the cloud you stand, my fine gentleman; the cloud of a lie ... but it clears ... it clears.... There's a far-off journey and castle walls ... and love all the time--hidden--by your side...."

She bent her head lower, tracing the lines with a forefinger stiff with a broad gold ring. The light of the flares fell on her bare neck and the bright Paisley shawl, crossed on her full bosom.

"Beware of a dark woman!--she's playing you false. Between two fires you will burn and burn ... And then, when the light fades ... on the turn of the tide ... there's the Lucky Moon and the Dream of your life...!"

Her voice sank away. She straightened herself, with a clink of silver bangles, and let his hand fall. Her lips were still muttering and her eyes, opened wide, were like pools of ink as McTaggart stared at her.

"And what about the golden crown?" He felt in his pocket. With an effort he spoke lightly to break the uncanny charm.

"It will come, my fine gentleman--before the year is dead."

"Peter!" He heard Jill calling to him. "Peter! where _are_ you?" The coin changed hands.

"A blessing on your head--the gypsy's blessing, sir. The eyes that see and the ears that hear ... And through the dark clouds the sun s.h.i.+ning bright--with love coming swiftly ... love by your side..."

"Peter!" Impatiently Jill caught his arm--"we thought we had lost you."

He turned with a start.

"Hullo, Jill!" He felt a trifle dazed. "I've been listening to a gypsy--having my fortune told."

"No?--what fun! What did she tell you?"

He glanced behind him, but the woman had gone.

"All sorts of things. I'm to have a golden crown--and a castle somewhere. In Spain, I should think!"

"Well, come along now--they've gone to the swings."

He slipped a hand through his little friend's arm. "Let me carry that cocoanut. Did you win it, Jill?" But the girl refused, guarding her treasure.

They crossed the trodden gra.s.s, damp with the dew, to where a row of booths with poisonous-looking sweets, cheap ribands and laces and ginger-bread "snaps" had attracted the usual pairs of village lovers.

"Buy yer lidy a fairing!" A shrill voice hailed them--"a pretty brooch now--a bracelet?--a ring? Come now, young sir--yer 'and in yer pocket!--there's yer sweet'art waitin' ... the price of a kiss!"

McTaggart laughed back with a side glance at Jill.

"Would you like a fairing?" His eyes ran over the stall.

"Have a ring with 'Mizpah'?--Let's buy one for Stephen."

But the girl shook her head, with a gesture of annoyance.

"Come now, dearie"--the woman entreated--"choose a pretty keepsake--the gen'leman 'ull pay."

McTaggart bent forward, searching for a gift, suddenly obstinate.

"You'll _have_ to have something!"

"Hullo! what's this?" From the tray of tawdry jewellery, he picked up a locket with a smile to himself.

Two little hearts in bright red gla.s.s, with a true lover's knot joining them together.

Cheap and meretricious, the toy was saved from vulgarity by the colour which glowed like a pigeon-blood ruby.

It reminded McTaggart of his own curious case--the Double Heart--surely a symbol!

"There, Jill! Never say I'm not a generous man."

He tossed a s.h.i.+lling across to the woman--and with due solemnity made his offering.

"Thanks awfully." Jill's grey eyes were hidden by the dark fringe of lashes, sweeping down on to her cheeks. "I'll keep it for Court ... or wear it on my sleeve. Thank you, Peter."

She slipped it in her pocket.

"Hi! McTaggart!" Bethune from afar was waving to them. "Time we were off!" He shouted the warning as they hastened toward him where he stood with Roddy, still breathless from the swings.

"It's awfully late..." he added apologetically. "I'm sorry to rush you--but I think we'd better start."

They made for the Inn, Bethune by his friend, Roddy hanging onto his sister's arm.

"We'll have to go slow when we get to Hounslow--those beastly trams spoil the run. Here we are!" He babbled on--"now, bundle in..."

But Jill checked her brother, with one foot on the step. "I think I'd rather like to ride in front. D'you mind, Mr. Bethune?" She smiled up at him.

"Mind? I should think not." The man looked pleased, but McTaggart's face fell at the words.

"Going to desert me? You little turn-coat!--After that lovely fairing too."

But Jill was settling herself beside the driver.

"Rather rough on Roddy!" was all she said.

The schoolboy laughed. He produced a bag, br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with highly coloured sweets.

"Have a suck?" he said, and diving into it drew out a sugar stick, striped pink and yellow.