Part 3 (1/2)
”Oh, I have,” said Zula, with a toss of her head, at the same time placing her finger on the hammer of the pistol.
”Please put it away,” June said. ”It frightens me to see you handle it.”
Zula dropped the pistol carelessly while Scott looked at her in amazement.
”I want you to promise me,” said June, ”that you will never steal again, or tell a wrong story.”
”How can I promise that when mam beats me if I don't steal.”
”Well, it's wicked, and G.o.d don't like little girls who do such things; and if you don't stop it you will be punished terribly some time.”
”Oh, I don't care. I can't get a worse beating than I get almost every day, no matter where I go.”
They had now reached the city limit.
”Which way?” called out the driver.
”I will get out here, if you please,” said Zula, in answer to the question.
”Where do you live?” Scott asked.
”Please, I don't want you to know,” she answered, looking at him and scanning closely every feature. ”I can't tell you how much I thank you. I shall never see you again, but if I should, and you wanted me to die for you, I would. Zula will never forget you--will always remember you both.”
She caught a hand of each, and kissing them fervently, dropped from the carriage steps with the agility of a young fawn. She stopped for a moment as she touched the ground with her bare, brown feet, moved her hand in a graceful way above her head, and with repeated good byes to each, tripped lightly over the soft gra.s.s away from the city.
CHAPTER III.
THE CHASTIs.e.m.e.nT.
A band of gypsies seated on the gra.s.s about a mile from the city limits, were lazily was.h.i.+ng their breakfast dishes. Two or three young girls were laughing and chatting merrily as they sat in the shade together. Farther away was an old woman, wrinkled, and with a sour look on her face, working at a beaded cus.h.i.+on. Her black uncombed hair hung down her back and around a face ugly in the extreme. A large, broad nose, and a wide, ill-shaped mouth, the latter of which often resembled that of a snarling hyena, gave her a look from which anyone would well turn in disgust. Her dirt-begrimed fingers were covered with rings of every conceivable design. She looked up as she heard footsteps in the gra.s.s, and saw Zula standing before her.
”So you are here at last, you young gypsy?”
”Yes.”
”And there is a good flogging here for you, too. Did you find anything on your travels?”
”Yes, I got some money.”
”Ah, ha! You did, did you? Well, but you was gone all night; how so?”
”I couldn't get back; I was shut up.”
”Shut up. Where?”
”Where I couldn't get out, and only for a kind little lady I would stayed there.”
”Ah, ha! you fool, why didn't you look out for that?”