Hilda's Mascot Part 22

"Something that pleased them very much, judging by their happy looks and smiles. We tried to persuade them to tell us, but they would only give us sc.r.a.ps and hints which might have been told any young lady and not been far wrong."

"They are such good-looking people. I imagined that all gypsies had a wild, degraded look."

"These are the most respectable ones I have seen, so far as appearances go, especially that one by the oak tree. They also belong to the ill.u.s.trious house of Stanley."

Fred's laugh arose above the key to which they had been modulating their voices, and they realized that it had attracted the attention of the gypsies.

The men arose, and tying the horses, stood awhile looking about them, conversing in a low tone, then went to the brook, laved hands and face, and went to supper.

"Cousin Hilda," said Fred, who had been gazing intently at the horses, "I believe that beautiful cream-colored one is the very animal that was stolen from an innkeeper in Springfield about two years ago."

"But there are many cream-colored horses; how could you be certain that this is the one? Or why do you imagine it is?"

"By the peculiar manner in which she tosses her head. The one I speak of belonged to a circus company and had been trained to perform several tricks. I feel quite sure that this is the animal."

"But surely you do not intend hinting anything of the kind to them?"

said Hilda, anxiously.

"No, but Planchette is perfectly quiet. If you will hold the lines a moment I will take a circuit and come up back of the tents, and while the gypsies are at supper will examine that horse."

"But what proof would a closer view give you?"

"One of the tricks of the circus horse was to kneel if touched upon a particular spot on his head. I know that spot and will put it to the test. You can watch from the carriage and see if I am right."

"Oh, Cousin Fred, do be careful! Suppose they should see you?"

"But I do not intend them to see me, and will be back in a moment." He swung himself lightly from the carriage and disappeared behind the thick underbrush.

Hilda gazed anxiously in the direction of the tents and saw Fred reach the place, keeping at the same time his attention upon the gypsies.

Patting the animal gently, and speaking in a low, soothing tone, his fingers glided to a spot upon her forehead. Instantly the intelligent creature knelt and laid her mouth in the outstretched palm of Fred. He raised his arm and she arose to her feet; and convinced that he was not mistaken, Fred went swiftly behind the tents on the way back to the carriage.

He found Hilda with a blanched face, a look of terror in her eyes, and seeming almost on the verge of fainting.

"Oh, Fred," she whispered, "the fortune teller sprang from behind that bush the moment you left, and I cannot tell you the terrible things she said to me! She heard all you said and has gone to tell them."

Fred was no coward, nor was he foolhardy. He realized the danger they were in, and his cheek grew as pale as that of his companion.

A commotion was visible among the gypsies-loud talking, curses and threatening looks toward the carriage, and a general uprising from the table.

Fred sprang to his place beside Hilda, took the reins preparatory to flight, had turned Planchette's head toward the road and reached to take the whip from the socket, when the bridle was grasped by one of the men.

"Halt, liar, and explain, or you shall not leave this place alive!"

cried the gypsy, his black eyes blazing with fury.

For answer Fred brought the lash down upon his hand with a quick, stinging stroke. The bridle was released, and Planchette sprang forward just as a bullet whizzed through the back of the carriage between the heads of the occupants, and amid shouts and imprecations from men, women and children, they cleared the woods, and were in comparative safety.

"This is only loaned," exclaimed Fred, with flas.h.i.+ng eyes, and face pale from anger and excitement. "I was single-handed, unarmed, and have a lady with me. It shall be returned with interest!"

"Oh, Fred," implored Hilda, almost faint from terror, "promise me not to molest them! I should never forgive myself if anything happened to you, Which would surely be the case if you attacked them. Promise me!"

"That horse was stolen, Hilda; they should be made to return it! They fired upon me, and it is not through any merit in them that one of us is not lying dead at this moment. Would you wish me to leave all these things unpunished?"

"Yes, for we are the ones at fault. They did not go to us; we came to them."

"Then you wish me to act the coward's part by hiding their theft, and the attempt upon our lives?"

"Yes, all; all for the sake of your mother. Oh, to think that the very first evening of my coming I should be the cause of bringing anxiety and perhaps anguish upon her! Promise me, Fred, or I will not return to your house."

"You would despise me when you reflected upon it," commented the young man moodily. "Were I to follow your advice I would be of no credit to you."

"What credit would it be to you, or to anyone, to quarrel with gypsies?

Supposing you were victorious and killed one or more of them, what would it add to your advantage or happiness?"

"The woman insulted and frightened you. What man worthy of the name would allow it to go unpunished?"

"Words do not kill; I care nothing about them, and would not have told you only to warn you of the danger we were in. We were the aggressors."

"They should be driven from the neighborhood, which the authorities cannot do unless complaint be made against them, and you will not let me make it."

"We are unharmed, and have no right to complain against them when it was our own fault. They may not have stolen the horse, but bought it from someone who did, as I am sure if they had stolen it they would not encamp so near Springfield, where at any moment the horse is liable to be recognized."

"That looks reasonable," said Fred, reflectively.

"Let us keep it a secret, at least for some time. I am a girl, but I can keep it to myself."

"Agreed!" responded Fred.

"Promise that you will not pa.s.s the encampment on your way back to Springfield, will you?"

"No, I will go by the way of the Lakes, or the Pacific, or around by California and the Isthmus of Panama, if you prefer."

"My mind is at rest now," said Hilda with an answering smile. "Thank you, Cousin Fred, I will go home with you now."

Her mind was at rest so far as concerned the safety of Fred, but her tried nerves could not recover their tone for many days. Her sleep was troubled, and in dreams she saw the wild faces of the gypsies, heard their shouts and imprecations, and saw Fred dying at her feet.

CHAPTER X-AN OFFER OF MARRIAGE

One evening nearly a year after the adventure with the gypsies, Fred came out on the train from Springfield to pa.s.s the night under the homestead roof, a thrill of boyish delight paying tribute to it, as always, but more p.r.o.nounced now that it was the dwelling place of Hilda.

They were expecting him, and Mrs. Warfield, with motherly care, had seen that his favorite dishes were prepared for the evening meal, and with a glad light in her beautiful eyes, welcomed him.

"Where is Hilda, mother?" he asked, glancing inquiringly through the open door of the parlor, after pressing a filial salute upon the yet plump and rosy cheek.