The few words that my old ayah had taught me in India had thus procured me a hearty welcome in a Midshire fir-plantation.

"Sit down by me, Peter Meredith, my son," exclaimed the old woman; "and do you fetch him water, Mina."

I dismounted, and did as I was bid; while the young girl took a pitcher, and presently brought it filled from a running Stream near by, and offered it to me, like another Rebecca. But her grandmother--for such she was--cried, "Stop! let me put something in it;" and produced from her pocket the self-same flask which she herself had given me a few weeks ago, and which I had thought was left behind at the Dovecot.

"Why, I was blaming myself for not having brought you that thing back to-day," said I; "I never heard of your coming to claim it."

"Nor did I, young gentleman," returned the old woman, proudly. "Harvey Gerard is too kind a man to visit when one is not in need. That was why I left his house that day, directly I had told what had befallen Marmaduke Heath: I did not wish him to think I waited for my reward.

He returned me this with his own hands. He is not one of your proud ones. When we had the fever here--Mina, darling, you remember who came to see you, and saved your life?"

"Ah, yes!" cried the girl, clasping her dark hands, which gleamed with tawdry rings; "and his daughter, too, how I love her!"

There was a little pause; I felt my ears tingle, my cheeks burn. I did not dare look up from the ground.

"Lucy Gerard is very fair," whispered the old woman; "she will make a good and loving wife;" then she added roguishly, and in that gipsy tone which smacks so of the race-course: "Shall I tell your fortune, my pretty gentleman?"

"No, I thank you," said I, hastily; "I have no great confidence in your information as to the future. With respect to the past, on the other hand, you can doubtless satisfy me, if you will. I have a great curiosity to know how you became possessed of yonder flask with the Heath griffin."

"Peter Meredith," returned the old woman, very gravely, "you have asked me to tell you a sad story, and one to relate which will cost me much.

It is not our custom, however, to refuse the first request of a new friend. But before I begin, let me ask you a question in my turn. Has it never struck you why Sir Ma.s.singberd Heath has not long ago taken to himself a young wife, and begotten an heir for the bonny lands of Fairburn, in despite of his nephew?"

Until that moment, the idea had never crossed my brain; but no sooner was it thus mooted than I wondered greatly at the shortsightedness of those among whom Marmaduke's affairs had been so lately discussed, and in particular at that of Mr. Clint, who, as a lawyer, should surely have at once foreseen such a contingency. "Well," said I, "I confess that, for my part, I have never thought of it; but there cannot be much danger of Sir Ma.s.singberd's becoming a wooer now; why, what young woman would be won by such as he?"

"What young woman would not be won?" replied Rachel Liversedge, grimly. "Think you that his white head and stony heart would weigh too heavy in the balance against his t.i.tle and the reversion of his lands?

Remember, all that is around us, and all that we could see from yonder hill to the right hand and to the left--pasture and corn-field, farm and park--would fall to the offspring of her who would venture, for a few years, to be Lady Heath. Peter, there is one maiden in Midshire, known to you and me, who would not consent to do this thing, though the offer were thrice as splendid; but I doubt if there be more than one."

"If that be so," said I, "why does not Sir Ma.s.singberd marry?"

"The answer to that is the story I am about to tell you," returned Rachel.

CHAPTER XIV.

WHY SIR Ma.s.sINGBERD DID NOT MARRY.

"I suppose you have heard, Peter Meredith, young as you are," began the old woman, "a great deal of ill-speaking against us Wanderers. We not only kill game, but even domestic poultry, if the opportunity is given to us; we not only steal wood, but horse-flesh; and since we are so partial to carrion, it is not to be wondered at that we sometimes suffocate a sheep with a piece of his own wool, in order to get the carca.s.s cheap from the farmer. Yet whatever false charges are current about us now, these are nothing, either in gravity or number, to what they were when I was a young girl--that is, fifty years ago. Every man's hand, every woman's tongue, was against us: magistrates committed us without testimony; rogues made a trade of accusing us solely to get blood-money. Our name was more than a by-word, it was a brand; to call a man a gipsy, was to say vagabond and thief in one. Under these circ.u.mstances, Ma.s.singberd Heath left his father's house yonder, and came to live with us as congenial company. We were in this very wood the day he did so. The sun shone as brightly as now, the streamlet ran just as blithe, the air was filled, as now, with the sweet-smelling pine. The people only are changed--ah me, how changed!--who made up that scene.

There was my father; he died! ten years younger than I am now; is not that strange, boy? his brother Morris, dead; poor Stanley Carew, you shall hear of him presently, a handsomer lad by far than his nephew there; my beautiful Sinnamenta, compared to little Mina yonder, though she is pretty enough, like a blush-rose to a mere peony, the flower of womankind. If there are ladies and women born into the world, then she was a lady. There are no such beauties now; no, friend, not even at the Dovecot. Let me see; I have counted four; then I was there also, comely enough, 'twas said, but not to be spoken of for looks with my younger sister.

"We were occupied pretty much as you see us now, for life in the Greenwood possesses but little variety, when Ma.s.singberd Heath strode in among us, with his gun upon his shoulder. We knew him well, but were not inclined to dislike him. He was a dissipated, wild, young fellow, but, as yet, his heart was thought, as the saying is, to be in the right place; his popularity, however, was princ.i.p.ally owing to his antagonism to his father. Sir Wentworth had long pa.s.sed through the spendthrift stage, and was very close with respect to money-matters; a harsh and griping landlord, and it is probable enough a n.i.g.g.ard parent. His son's extravagances were at that time insignificant compared to what they afterwards became, yet the old man was for ever complaining. He persecuted all who were poor and in his power, but the gipsies especially. He feared for his deer, for his game, for his fences, and, besides, I verily believe he detested us for our improvidence. I remember he sent two of my young brothers to prison for tossing for halfpence upon a Sunday--he who made not even a pretence of religion himself, and had been used invariably to pa.s.s his day of rest in town at Tattersall's, betting his thousands on some approaching race. It is said that this wretched old man used to horse-whip young Ma.s.singberd almost daily, until a certain occasion, when the latter found himself stronger than he imagined, and reversed the process. After that, Sir Wentworth confined himself to cursing his offspring whenever they quarrelled. It was after some dreadful outbreak of pa.s.sion on the part of the old man that Ma.s.singberd Heath left house and home, and elected to join our wandering fortunes. We were very unwilling that this should be. It was by no means so unusual a proceeding then as now, for persons of good birth, but broken fortunes, to become gipsies, but such had usually their private reasons for remaining so for life. They were very rarely criminals, but generally social outlaws, for whom there could be no reconciliation at home, or younger sons of respectable families, with quite a mountain of debt upon their shoulders. These were regularly nationalized among us; and if they conducted themselves for sufficient time in accordance with our regulations, they were permitted to intermarry with us.

"Now it was certain that Ma.s.singberd Heath sought only a temporary home; as soon as his father died, or even offered terms to him, he would leave us, and resume his proper station. Moreover, how was the maintenance of discipline and obedience to the chief of our tribe, absolutely essential as it is, to be kept up in the case of this new-comer? Even at that time, he was a headstrong, wilful man, to whom all authority, however lawful or natural, was hateful. Was it to be expected that he who defied his own father, himself a man of iron will, would obey Morris Liversedge? On the other hand, Uncle Morris rather liked the young fellow. He had connived at many a raid on his father's own preserves--to such a pitch had the quarrel grown between them--and kept our pot boiling with bird and beast. Many and many a time had he led the Fairburn keepers to one extremity of the preserves, while the slaughter was going on in the other. Moreover, it would be of great importance, could we make a friend of the man who would one day own all these pleasant haunts of ours, and who could say a good word, and a strong one, for the poor persecuted gipsies, when it was needed. Poor Morris did not know that the rebel but too often turns out a tyrant, when he gets his chance. He could not foresee Sir Ma.s.singberd Heath sending folks to prison, or getting them kidnapped, and sent across the seas, for snaring the hares that he held so cheaply when they did not happen to belong to himself. If you want to find a gentleman who in his youth, and landless, has been a poacher whenever the opportunity offered, look you among the game-preservers on the bench of justices. This, however, is among the least of the basenesses of him of whom I speak. It is not for his bitter guardianship of bird and beast, or his hateful oppression of his fellow-creatures, that my heart cries out for judgment against this man, that I look with eager longing for that hour when G.o.d shall take him into His own hand."

The old woman paused a moment with closed eyes, and muttered something that was inaudible to me, rocking herself at the same time to and fro.

"Ma.s.singberd Heath became one of us, Peter Meredith as far as it is possible for such a wretch to be so; he ate with us, and drank with us, which they say is a sacred bond among even savages. It was not so with him. He cast his evil eyes upon Sinnamenta, to love her after the fashion of his accursed race. Perhaps you may think, Peter Meredith, that such an occurrence should have been foreseen by her father or her uncle Morris, and, for my part, I always thought that it was the presence of my lovely sister which mainly caused this man to join our company; but, at all events, neither they nor I dreaded any ill consequences. A gipsy girl is not a light-of-love maiden, like those of fairer skins. Heaven, who gives her beauty, gives her virtue also: this is not denied, even by our enemies. When you call your sweetheart 'Gipsy,' it is in love, not in reproach. Ma.s.singberd Heath knew this well, and therefore it was foe took such pains in the matter. It is true that we do not marry in church, but when we wed among ourselves, the marriage is not less sacred; It was a wedding of this sort, indissoluble by one party, but not by the other, which this man wished to compa.s.s. He did not gain his end."

The old woman's eyes sparkled with triumph for a moment as she said these words, but her voice sank low as she continued:

"Peter Meredith, if you have a sister, think of her while I speak of mine; she cannot be more pure than little Sinnamenta, nor less designing. Her weakness was one common to all women, but especially to those of our unhappy race; she was fond of finery--fine clothing, jewels, shawls; they became her; she looked like any princess when attired in them. Stanley Carew, who loved her in all honesty, could give her no such costly gifts as Ma.s.singberd Heath showered upon her, and, to help his end, even upon me. The gipsy's ragged coat looked mean and poor beside that of our guest. This man, too, whom you know but as a scowling tyrant, with a face scarred with pa.s.sion and excesses, was then a handsome youth. You smile, Peter, at the wonder of it; it is, however, not less true than that the wrinkled hag to whom you are now listening was then a bonny girl. Imagine that, Peter, and you can imagine anything. Ah, Time, Time, surely at the end of you, there will be something to recompense us for all that you have taken away!"

Once more Rachel Liversedge paused as if in pain; then with eyes whose sight seemed to receive but little of what was present, but were fixed on the unreturning Past, continued as follows:

"Yes, Ma.s.singberd Heath was handsome enough, unless when enraged; his wrath always brought the horse-shoe out upon his forehead.[1] Ay, and he was agreeable enough, too. He could smile as though he had a heart, and vow as though he owned a G.o.d. By his devilish art he managed to ingratiate himself with Sinnamenta; he caused her to treat poor Stanley ill, and then, pretending to take his part, got credit for generosity.

There are many who call us gipsies a base people, yet this excess of meanness was quite new to us; my little sister--that was what I always called her, because I loved her so--she believed him. She would have trusted to his word, and married him, according to our rites, and been his wife and drudge for all her life; but since this could not be without the consent both of her father and Morris, he had to ask it of them. He might as well have asked it of Sir Wentworth; they had got to know him well by close companionship, for men fathom men better than women do--even gipsy women, who foretell men's fortunes for them--and they answered, 'No.' They did not believe that he had the least intention of being with us longer that it suited him, and they peremptorily refused his request. After one burst of pa.s.sionate threats, the young man pretended to yield a.s.sent to their decision. Morris was inclined to think this acquiescence genuine; but my father, more warmly interested in the matter, and therefore perhaps less credulous, kept on his guard. Finding out that Ma.s.singberd Heath had secretly made overtures of reconciliation to his father, and missing him one night from the camp, he caused Morris to strike tent at once; and before morning we had put twenty miles between us and Fairburn. Nor was this effected too soon, for, as we heard long afterwards, the constables were searching this very wood for us at day-break.

"Our company was bound on a long travel to Kirk-Yetholm, Roxburghshire, one of the few places in Scotland, although but one mile from the frontier of Northumberland, where the gipsies reside in any number.

There we should meet with friends, and be safe from all molestation. It was late in the year to travel so far and into such a climate, but there was no help for it; and moreover, some of the Carews had a house there, to which Stanley said we should be welcome; and so it turned out. I believe Sinnamenta would rather that we had camped out of doors, even in that northern clime, so disinclined was she to be beholden to him or his friends, after what had happened, although she did not dare to say so.

Poor Stanley imagined that, now we had removed from the neighbourhood of his rival, he might renew his suit with success; but the proud girl would not listen to him. She did not exactly pine after the man whose wiles she had so narrowly escaped, but her life seemed henceforth saddened. The domestic duties which had hitherto sat so lightly upon her, became burdensome, and she set about them languidly. The whole of the time we remained at Kirk-Yetholm, and it was many, many months, she never mentioned Ma.s.singberd Heath, but never ceased to think of him. It was fated that she was to be undeceived about that man too late."

[1] I am reminded by a friendly critic of the "suspicious coincidence"

of a horse-shoe on the forehead, in the case of "Redgauntlet." I never think of Sir Ma.s.singberd without thinking of that worthy; and it has been a matter of doubt with me, whether Sir Walter Scott might not himself have seen the Squire of Fairburn and drawn him from the life--both as to mind and feature--in his famous novel.

CHAPTER XV.

THE REASON CONTINUED.

"About a year after our departure from Fairburn, Sinnamenta and I had been to sell some baskets, the making of which was a great trade with us at that time, at Wooler, in Northumberland; and on our return from the fair that was being held there, we met a number of gentlemen driving home from shooting in the Cheviots. They went by very rapidly, yet not so fast but that I recognized one of their number; I had only to look at my little sister's cheeks to see that she had recognized him also. The very next day came Ma.s.singberd Heath to our camp, professing himself injured by our abrupt withdrawal from his society, volunteering his companionship as before, and reiterating his vows and promises to Sinnamenta. She expressed herself in such a manner as to lead us almost to fear she might be induced to elope with him; while he, upon his side, seemed prepared to sacrifice everything to obtain her: his very selfishness caused him, as it were, to forget himself; and I do believe, if it had been insisted upon, he would have had the banns published in Wooler Church, in the hearing of the fine friends with whom he was staying, and been married by the parson. However, he again proposed to go through the Cingari ceremony, and this time, Morris and my father agreed to it. Having acknowledged himself to be an adopted gipsy, Ma.s.singberd Heath was joined in wedlock to Sinnamenta Liversedge; the ordinary ceremonies were dispensed with, by command of Morris, the bride and bridegroom only pledging themselves to one another solemnly in the presence of the a.s.sembled tribe. It was then, since he could not purchase suitable presents in such an out-of-the-way district, that I received from that man's hand this shooting-flask, as a remembrance of that day; my uncle commanded me to accept it (although I vehemently disapproved of what had been done), and I therefore keep it now, when every other gift of that accursed man has long been committed to the flames. For my part, I could not understand this novel pliancy on the part of Morris and my father; while Sinnamenta, as I think, implicitly believed in her lover's protestation, that for her sake he would all his life be a wanderer like ourselves. That very day, however, he took her away southward, on his road to London.

"For beauty, as I have said, and for gentleness, there never breathed the equal of my little sister, and yet in six short months this Heath grew weary of her; like a spoiled child tired with a fragile toy, he cared not what became of her, so long as it vexed his eyes no more. It is not necessary to tell what brutal insult he put upon her; enough to say that she fled from him in terror, as he had intended her to do, and returned to us, heart-stricken, woe-begone, about to become a mother, with nothing but wretchedness in the Future, and even her happy Past a dream dispelled. It was dreadful to look upon my little sister, and compare her to what she had been so short a time before. She felt the cold after her luxurious life in town; but she was far more ill at ease in mind than body. Above all, she sorrowed because her lover's desertion had left her disgraced--that she had brought shame upon all who belonged to her. Incited by the poor girl's misery, Morris and my father put into effect an audacious design which they had privately had long in hand. We were back again at Fairburn--all but Stanley Carew, who was away about a new horse for our covered cart--not camping in the plantation, as of old, for fear of Sir Wentworth, but upon the common hard by. On a certain morning, neither my father nor uncle went forth as usual, but sat at home smoking and watching at the opening of the tent.

Not long after breakfast, there appeared a wayfarer in the distance, whose form showed gigantic in the summer haze.

"That must be a big fellow, little sister," said I, drawing her attention to it. She was sitting huddled up, as usual, in front of the fire; but no sooner had she caught sight of the object in question, than she ran with a cry to her father's knee, and besought him to save her from Ma.s.singberd Heath. Ah, even then, at that last moment, if father or uncle had but consulted me, or let me into their plans, I should not have my little sister's shuddering face before me as now, the large eyes wild, the full lips pale with terror. He had beaten her, poor darling, even before the scene that was coming; but she had even more reason than she knew for fear. This man came striding on to the entrance of the tent, and stood there looking at its inmates with a withering scowl. 'Why don't you speak,' said he, 'you vagabonds! For what is it that you have dared to send for me?'

"My father pointed towards Sinnamenta--'Is not that cause enough, Ma.s.singberd Heath?'

"'No,' retorted the ruffian coolly. 'What is she to me? The drab has come to her thieving friends again, it seems--the more fool she; for there was more than one who had a fancy for her in town, and would have taken her off my hands.'

"My father's fingers mechanically sought the knife which lay beside his half-finished basket; but my uncle Morris stood up between him and the speaker, and thus replied:--

"Ma.s.singberd Heath, I sent for you to tell you something which concerns both us and you. Many months ago, you came to us, uninvited and unwelcome, and elected to be a gipsy like ourselves. This makes you smile very scornfully; yet if you did not mean the thing you said, you lied. However, we believed you. You were admitted into what, however wretched and debased it may seem to you, was our home, and all we had to offer you was at your service. You fell in love with that poor girl yonder, and she did not tremble at your voice, as now, but trusted to your honour. It is true, your position in the world was high, and hers was what you saw it to be. Still you wooed her, and not she you; that is so, and you know it. Do not slander her, sir, lest presently you should be sorry for it. Again and again, then, you demanded her hand in marriage--such marriage, that is, as prevails among our people--not so ceremonious, indeed, as with the rest of the world, but not less binding. This we would not grant, because we disbelieved your protestations on your honour and before your G.o.d; and disbelieved them, as it has turned out, with reason. Then we fled from you and your false solicitations to the north, hundreds of miles away; even thither you followed us, or else accidentally fell in with us; I know not which. You renewed your offers and your oaths. We found, all worthless as you are, that the poor girl loved you still, and, yielding to your repeated importunity, we suffered her to become your wife.'

"'Wife!' repeated the renegade contemptuously. 'Do you suppose, then, that I valued your gipsy mummeries at a pin's head? You might as well attempt to tie these wrists of mine with the gossamer from yonder furze.'

"'We knew that, Ma.s.singberd Heath, although the girl did not know it; she trusted you, although your every word was false.'

"'She is fool enough for anything,' returned the other brutally. 'But I know all this. Have you dared to bring me here merely to repeat so stale a story?'

"'A story with an ending that you have yet to learn,' pursued my uncle sternly. You were wedded by no gipsy mummeries, as you call them; you took Sinnamenta Liversedge, in the presence of many persons, solemnly to wife.'