Part 13 (1/2)
”Zula,” she heard whispered in the darkness.
”Oh, Fan, I am so glad you are here.”
”Hus.h.!.+ We must be quick, for the storm is coming on and it may wake some one.”
”G.o.d help me,” said Zula.
Fan proceeded quickly but quietly to untie the ropes which bound Zula's hands, and it was no easy task, being in utter darkness, but the work was soon accomplished with the help of Fan's teeth, and, taking Zula's hand, they stealthily crept out into the black night.
”Good bye,” whispered Fan. ”Now go; they might find out if I don't go back. They all slept when I crawled from the tent. Now go, and may the good fairies go with you to protect you.”
”Fan, go with me.”
”Oh, what would I do? I have no home nor any place. No, no, go.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Good bye--Now go!”]
Zula pressed Fan's hand and then she was left standing alone in the inky darkness, with all the great wide world around her. The woods, the gra.s.s, the wild flowers, even the broad, black sky above, none of which she could discern, seemed to speak to her of freedom, and whisper of a hope which she had thought forever lost. Standing there in the darkness under the sky, angry with a fast approaching storm, with the great raindrops falling about her and danger on every hand, she saw her castle again rising up in the darkness--saw again the glistening panes, the marble walls and sparkling fountain--saw the castle which would rise despite the darkness around her. She groped her way for some distance and suddenly came in contact with a huge oak tree which gave her head a fierce blow. She sank to the earth with a groan.
”Oh, dear,” she said, ”what shall I do? Oh, my head, and I shall get soaking wet. I wonder what I shall do? I can't stay here; it is too close by. I must get away, for even now they may have missed me. I don't know where it will be, but I must find my way to somewhere. If I go to Mrs. Platts I must tell her all, and then she will know I am a gypsy, and I would rather die than have her know that.”
CHAPTER X.
SCOTT'S VALET.
Scott Wilmer sat in his office surrounded by books and papers, which were lying about on tables and desk in great disorder. His brow was clouded, and, leaning his head on his hand, he looked from one pile of papers to another, and taking up his pen he wrote:
”WANTED--Boy. A good steady boy to work in law office. Must be active and willing to work; neat in appearance and of good behavior. SCOTT WILMER, 173 ---- Street, Detroit.”
The advertis.e.m.e.nt was inserted in the evening papers and the next morning a score or more of boys appeared. There was one among them who impressed Scott more than all the rest, and whom Scott requested to step into his office. He was a fine looking boy of perhaps fourteen or fifteen years of age, scrupulously neat in appearance and possessing a manner which quite captivated Scott.
”My name is Paul Leroy,” he said, as he gracefully accepted the chair Scott offered. ”I thought perhaps I might fill the place of errand boy, if you will only let me try, and if you did not like me----”
”That is always understood,” said Scott. ”The duties which I wish you to perform are not at all arduous, and I think you can fill the place without trouble.
”Would you like a chance to study?”
”Indeed I would, sir.”
”Very well. I will give you eight dollars per week and allow you the privilege of attending evening school, and studying at home when you can. Are you satisfied with that?”
”Perfectly, sir.”
”Have you any recommendations?”
”No, sir; I have none, and I can only promise you that I will be honest and do my work as near right as I can.”
”Where in this city have you worked?”