Part 16 (1/2)

Soft, soft as spun silk, the notes of the flute arose, very soft and prolonged, like threads extending from the instrument and winding about the necks of the little snakes; and the little snakes followed the notes of the flute, which drew them on and on. Zinzara walked backward. The little snakes followed her as if they were held fast by the notes of the flute as by silken threads. The gipsy stopped, and the notes _grew shorter_, so to speak, like the threads one winds about a bobbin. Then the snakes approached the sorceress, and as Zinzara stooped slowly over them, and put down her hands, still holding the flute, upon which she did not cease to play, the snakes twined themselves about her bare arms. Thence one of them climbed up and wound about her neck, letting his little head, with its wide open mouth and quivering tongue, hang down upon her swelling breast. And when she stood erect again, two others were seen at her ankles, above the rings she wore on her legs. Then she laid aside her flute and began to laugh. Her laugh disclosed her regular, white teeth.

”Now,” said she, ”if any one will give me his hand, I will tell his fortune!”

But no hand was put forward to meet hers because of the little snakes.

Zinzara laughed aloud, and her laugh, in very truth, recalled certain notes of her double flute.

At that moment, Livette started to walk away.

”Come, you!” said the gipsy quickly,--”you refused to listen to me once, but to-day you must be very anxious to find out where your lover is, my beauty! Give me your hand without fear, if you are worthy to become the wife of a brave horseman.”

Livette blushed vividly. Her two young friends arrived just then and heard what was said. ”Don't you do it!” said one of them in an undertone, pulling Livette's skirt from behind; but, Livette, annoyed by the gipsy's expression, in which she fancied that she could detect a touch of mockery, put out her hand, not without a mental prayer for protection to the sainted Marys. The gipsy took the proffered hand in her own. The snakes put out their forked tongues. Livette was somewhat pale.

They were both very small, the fortune-teller's hand and the maiden's.

Renaud looked on from above with all his eyes, greatly surprised and a little disturbed in mind.

The gipsy held Livette's hand in her own a moment, exulting to feel the palpitations of the bird she was fascinating. She had hoped to intimidate Livette, and the courage the girl displayed annoyed her.

”Your future husband isn't far away, my beauty,” said she, ”but he is not here on your account, never fear! On whose, then? That is for you to guess!”

Livette, already somewhat pale, became as white as a ghost.

”That alone, I fancy, is of interest to you, my pretty sweetheart!

Then I'll say no more to you except this: Beware; the serpent on my left wrist just whispered something to me. Look well to your love!”

A shudder ran through the spectators like a ripple over the surface of a swamp. One of the snakes was, in fact, hissing gently.

The gipsy released Livette's hand; as the girl turned to go away, she came face to face with Rampal. He had been wandering about the village since early morning, and had just joined the group, unseen by any one, even by Renaud.

Livette recoiled instinctively and in such a marked way that Rampal might well have taken it for an affront. Unfortunately, having left the front row, she was hemmed in by the crowd on all sides of her.

”Oho! young lady,” said Rampal, ”so we don't recognize our friends!”

”Good-day, good-day, Rampal,” replied Livette, repeating the salutation as the custom is in the province; ”but let me pa.s.s! Make room for me, I say!”

”_Sur le pont d'Avignon_,” sang the gipsy, with a laugh, ”_tout le monde paye pa.s.sage!_”[2]

Renaud, still behind his window, had at last recognized Rampal. Fuming with rage, but naturally wary, he considered whether he should rush down at once and attack him or wait until Livette had gone.

Rampal did not always need a pretext to kiss a pretty girl,--but here was one ready-made for him!

”Do you hear, demoiselle?” said he. ”You must pay the tollman of your own accord, or else he will pay himself!”

He threw both arms about the poor child's waist. She bent back, holding her body and her head as far away from him as possible, but the rascal, hot of breath, holding her firmly and forcing her a little closer, kissed her twice full upon the lips.

A fierce oath was uttered behind them in the air. Everybody turned, and, looking up, discovered Renaud shaking the old-fas.h.i.+oned window, which was reluctant to be opened. Two more wrenches and the window yielded, flew suddenly open with a great noise of breaking gla.s.s, and Renaud, standing on the sill, leaped to the ground.