Part 21 (2/2)

'But what did you do, Sinfi?'

'What did I do? Well, don't you mind me comin' here one night and buyin' a couple of blankets off you, and some bread and meat and things?'

'In course I do, Sinfi, and you said you wanted them for the vans.'

The Gypsy smiled and said, 'I knowed she was bound to come back, so I pulls up the window and in I gets, and then opens the door and off I comes to you, as bein' the nearest neighbour, for the blankets and things, and I puts 'em in the house, and I leaves the door uncatched, and I hides myself behind the house, and, sure enough, back she comes, poor thing! I hears her kick, kick, kickin' at the door, and then I hears her go in when she finds it give way. So I waits a good while, till I thinks she's eat some o' the vittles and gone to sleep maybe, and then round the house I creeps, and in the door I peeps, and soon I hears her breathin' soft, and then I shuts the door and goes away to the place.' [Footnote]

[Footnote: Camping-place.]

'But why didn't you tell _us_ all this, Sinfi?' asked the landlord.

'My wife would ha' went and seen arter her, and we wouldn't ha'

touched a farthin' for they blankets and things, not we, Sinfi, not we.'

'Ah, you _would_, though,' said the girl, ''cause I'd ha' _made_ you take it. Winnie Wynne was the only one on 'em, Gorgio or Gorgie, ever I liked, and n.o.body's got no right to see arter her only me, and that's why I'm about here _now_, if you _must_ know; but n.o.body's got no right to see arter her only me, and n.o.body sha'n't nuther.

They might go and skear her to run up the hills, and she might dash herself all to flactions in no time.'

'Don't take on so, Sinfi,' said the landlord. 'When they are in that way they allus turns agin them as they was fond on.'

'Then you noticed as she was fond o' me, Mr. Blyth,' said the girl with great earnestness.

'Of course she was fond on you, Sinfi; everybody knows that.'

'Yes,' said the girl, now much affected, '_every_ body knowed it, _every_ body knowed as she was fond o' me. And to see her look at me like _that_--it was a cruel sight, Mr. Blyth, I can tell you. Such a look you never see'd in all your life, Mr. Blyth.'

'Then I take it she's in the house now?' said the landlord.

'She goes prowlin' about all day among the hills, as if she was a-lookin' for somebody; and she talks to somebody as she calls the Tywysog o'r Niwl, an' I know that's Welsh for the ”Prince o' the Mist”; but back she comes at night. She talks to herself a good deal; and she sings to herself the Welsh gillies what Mrs. Davies larnt her in a v'ice as seems as if she wur a-singin' in her sleep, but it's very sweet to hear it. Yesterday I crep' near her when she was a-sittin' down lookin' at herself in that 'ere llyn where the water's so clear, ”Knockers' Llyn,” as they calls it, where her and me and Rhona Boswell used to go. And I heard her say she was ”cussed by Henry's feyther.” And then I heard her talk to somebody agin, as she called the Prince of the Mist; but it's herself as she's a-talkin'

to all the while.'

'Cursed by Henry's father! What curse could any superst.i.tious mystic call down upon the head of Winifred? The heaven that would answer a call of that kind would be a heaven for zanies and tomfools!' I shouted, in a paroxysm of rage against the entire besotted human race. '_That_ for the curse!' I cried, snapping my fingers. '_I_ am Henry, and I am come to share the curse, if there is one.'

'Young man,' interposed the landlord, 'such blas-pheemous langige as that must not be spoke here; I ain't a-goin' to have _my_ good beer turned to vinegar by blasphemin' them as owns the thunder, I can tell you.'

But the effect of my words upon the Gypsy was that of a spark in a powder-mine.

'Henry?' she said, 'Henry? are _you_ the fine rei as she used to talk about? Are you the fine cripple as she was so fond on? Yes, Beng te ta.s.sa mandi if you ain't Henry his very self.'

'Don't,' remonstrated the landlord, 'don't meddle with the gentleman, Sinfi. He ain't a cripple, as you can see.'

'Well, cripple or no cripple, he's _Henry_. I half thought it as soon as he began askin' about her. Now, my fine Gorgio, what do you and your fine feyther mean by cussin' Winnie Wynne? You've jist about broke her heart among ye. If you want to cuss you'd better cuss me;'

and she sprang up in an att.i.tude that showed me at once that she was a skilled boxer.

The male Gypsy rose and b.u.t.toned his coat over his waistcoat. I thought he was going to attack me. Instead of this, he said to the landlord:

'_She's_ in for a set-to agin. She's sure to quarrel with me if I interferes, so I'll just go on to the place and not spile sport.

Don't let her kill the chap, though, Mr. Blyth, if you can anyways help it. Anyhows, _I_ ain't a-goin' to be called in for witness.'

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