IMPORTANT NEWS, BUT NOT COMMUNICATED--A DISSOLUTION OR PARTNERSHIP TAKES
PLACE.
Melchior's profits had been much more than he anticipated, and he was
very liberal to Timothy and myself; indeed, he looked upon me as his
right hand, and became more intimate and attached every day. We were,
of course, delighted to return to the camp, after our excursion. There
was so much continued bustle and excitement in our peculiar profession,
that a little quiet was delightful; and I never felt more happy than
when Fleta threw herself into my arms, and Nattee came forward with her
usual dignity and grace, but with more than usual condescendence and
kindness, bidding me welcome home. Home--alas! it was never meant for
my home, or poor Fleta's--and that I felt. It was our sojourn for a
time, and no more.
We had been more than a year exercising our talents in this lucrative
manner, when one day, as I was sitting at the entrance to the tent, with
a book in my hand, out of which Fleta was reading to me, a gipsy not
belonging to our gang made his appearance. He was covered with dust,
and the dew drops, hanging on his dark forehead, proved that he had
travelled fast. He addressed Nattee, who was standing by, in their own
language, which I did not understand; but I perceived that he asked for
Melchior. After an exchange of a few sentences, Nattee expressed
astonishment and alarm, put her hands over her face, and removed them as
quickly, as if derogatory in her to show emotion, and then remained in
deep thought. Perceiving Melchior approaching, the gipsy hastened to
him, and they were soon in animated conversation. In ten minutes it was
over: the gipsy went to the running brook, washed his face, took a large
draught of water, and then hastened away and was soon out of sight.
Melchior, who had watched the departure of the gipsy slowly approached
us. I observed him and Nattee as they met as I was certain that
something important had taken place. Melchior fixed his eyes upon
Nattee--she looked at him mournfully--folded her arms, and made a slight
bow as if in submission, and in a low voice quoted from the Scriptures,
"Whither thou goest, I will go--thy people shall be my people, and thy
God my God." He then walked away with her: they sat down apart, and
were in earnest conversation for more than an hour.
"Japhet," said Melchior to me, after he had quitted his wife, "what I am
about to tell you will surprise you. I have trusted you with all I dare
trust anyone, but there are some secrets in every man's life which had
better be reserved for himself and her who is bound to him by solemn
ties. We must now part. In a few days this camp will be broken up, and
these people will join some other division of the tribe. For me, you
will see me no more. Ask me not to explain, for I cannot."
"And Nattee," said I.
"Will follow my fortunes, whatever they may be--you will see her no
more."
"For myself I care not, Melchior; the world is before me, and remain
with the gipsies without you I will not: but answer me one question--
what is to become of little Fleta? Is she to remain with the tribe, to
which she does not belong, or does she go with you?"
Melchior hesitated. "I hardly can answer; but what consequence can the
welfare of a soldier's brat be to you?"
"Allowing her to be what you assert, Melchior, I am devotedly attached
to that child, and could not bear that she should remain here. I am
sure that you deceived me in what you stated; for the child remembers,
and has told me, anecdotes of her infancy, which proves that she is of
no mean family, and that she has been stolen from her friends."
"Indeed, is her memory so good?" replied Melchior, firmly closing his
teeth. "To Nattee or to me she has never hinted so much."
"That is very probable; but a stolen child she is, Melchior, and she
must not remain here."
"Must not!"
"Yes; must not, Melchior: when you quit the tribe, you will no longer
have any power, nor can you have any interest about her. She shall then
choose--if she will come with me, I will take her, and nothing shall
prevent me; and in so doing I do you no injustice, nor do I swerve in my
fidelity."
"How do you know that? I may have my secret reasons against it."
"Surely you can have no interest in a soldier's brat, Melchior?"
Melchior appeared confused and annoyed. "She is no soldier's brat: I
acknowledge, Japhet, that the child was stolen; but you must not,
therefore, imply that the child was stolen by me or by my wife."
"I never accused you, or thought you capable of it; and that is the
reason why I am now surprised at the interest you take in her. If she
prefers to go with you, have no more to say, but if not, I claim her;
and if she consents, will resist your interference."
"Japhet," replied Melchior after a pause, "we must not quarrel now that
we are about to part. I will give you an answer in half an hour."
Melchior returned to Nattee, and recommenced a conversation with her,
while I hastened to Fleta.
"Fleta, do you know that the camp is to be broken up, and Melchior and
Nattee leave it together?"
"Indeed!" replied she with surprise. "Then what is to become of you and
Timothy?"
"We must of course seek our fortunes where we can."
"And of me?" continued she, looking me earnestly in the face with her
large blue eyes. "Am I to stay here?" continued she--with alarm in her
countenance.
"Not if you do not wish it, Fleta: as long as I can support you I will--
that is, if you would like to live with me in preference to Melchior."
"If I would like, Japhet! you must know I would like,--who has been so
kind to me as you? Don't leave me, Japhet."
"I will not, Fleta; but on condition that you promise to be guided by
me, and to do all I wish."
"To do what you wish is the greatest pleasure that I have, Japhet--so I
may safely promise that. What has happened?"
"That I do not know more than yourself: but Melchior tells me that he
and Nattee quit the gipsy tents for ever."
Fleta looked round to ascertain if anyone was near us, and then in a low
tone said, "I understand their language, Japhet, that is, a great deal
of it, although they do not think so, and I overheard what the gipsy
said in part, although he was at some distance. He asked for Melchior;
and when Nattee wanted to know what he wanted, he answered that he was
dead; then Nattee covered up her face. I could not hear all the rest,
but there was something about a _horse_."
_He was dead_. Had then Melchior committed murder, and was obliged to
fly the country? This appeared to me to be the most probable, when I
collected the facts in my possession; and yet I could not believe it:
for except that system of deceit necessary to carry on his various
professions, I never found anything in Melchior's conduct which could be
considered as criminal. On the contrary, he was kind, generous, and
upright in his private dealings, and in many points proved that he had a
good heart. He was a riddle of inconsistency, it was certain;
professionally he would cheat anybody, and disregard all truth and
honesty but in his private character he was scrupulously honest, and
with the exception of the assertion relative to Fleta's birth and
parentage, he had never told me a lie, that I could discover. I was
summing up all these reflections in my mind, when Melchior again came up
to me, and desiring the little girl to go away, he said, "Japhet, I have
resolved to grant your request with respect to Fleta, but it must be on
conditions."
"Let me hear them."
"First, then, Japhet, as you always have been honest and confiding with
me, tell me now what are your intentions. Do you mean to follow up the
profession which you learnt under me, or what do you intend to do?"
"Honestly, then, Melchior, I do not intend to follow up that profession,
unless driven to it by necessity. I intend to seek my father."
"And if driven to it by necessity, do you intend that Fleta shall aid
you by her acquirements? In short, do you mean to take her with you as
a speculation, to make the most of her, to let her sink, when she
arrives at the age of woman, into vice and misery?"
"I wonder at your asking me that question, Melchior; it is the first act
of injustice I have received at your hands. No; if obliged to follow up
the profession, I will not allow Fleta so to do. I would sooner that
she were in her grave. It is to rescue her from that very vice and
misery, to take her out of a society in which she never ought to have
been placed, that I take her with me."
"And this upon your honour?"
"Yes, upon my honour. I love her as my sister, and cannot help
indulging in the hope that in seeking my father I may chance to stumble
upon hers."
Melchior bit his lips. "There is another promise I must exact from you,
Japhet, which is, that to a direction which I will give you, every six
months you will enclose an address where you may be heard of, and also
intelligence as to Fleta's welfare and health."
"To that I give my cheerful promise; but, Melchior, you appear to have
taken, all at once, a strange interest in this little girl."
"I wish you now to think that I do take an interest in her, provided you
seek not to inquire the why and the wherefore. Will you accept of funds
for her maintenance?"
"Not without necessity compels me; and then I should be glad to find,
when I can no longer help her, that you are still her friend."
"Recollect, that you will always find what is requisite by writing to
the address which I shall give you before we part. That point is now
settled, and on the whole I think the arrangement is good."
Timothy had been absent during the events of the morning--when he
returned, I communicated to him what had passed, and was about to take
place.
"Well, Japhet, I don't know--I do not dislike our present life, yet I am
not sorry to change it; but what are we to do?"
"That remains to be considered: we have a good stock of money,
fortunately, and we must husband it till we find what can be done."
We took our suppers all together for the last time, Melchior telling us
that he had determined to set off the next day. Nattee looked very
melancholy, but resigned; on the contrary, little Fleta was so
overjoyed, that her face, generally so mournful, was illuminated with
smiles whenever our eyes met. It was delightful to see her so happy.
The whole of the people in the camp had retired, and Melchior was busy
making his arrangements in the tent. I did not feel inclined to sleep;
I was thinking and revolving in my mind my prospects for the future;
sitting, or rather lying down, for I was leaning on my elbow, at a short
distance from the tents. The night was dark but clear, and the stars
were brilliant. I had been watching them, and I thought upon Melchior's
ideas of destiny, and dwelling on the futile wish that I could read
mine, when I perceived the approach of Nattee.
"Japhet," said she, "you are to take the little girl with you, I find--
will you be careful of her? for it would be on my conscience if she were
left to the mercy of the world. She departs rejoicing, let not her joy
end in tears. I depart sorrowing. I leave my people, my kin, my
habits, and customs, my influence, all--but it must be so, it is my
destiny. She is a good child, Japhet--promise me that you will be a
friend to her--and give her this to wear in remembrance of me, but--not
yet--not till we are gone--" She hesitated. "Japhet, do not let
Melchior see it in your possession; he may not like me having given it
away." I took the piece of paper containing the present, and having
promised all she required, "This is the last--yes--the very last time
that I may behold this scene," continued Nattee, surveying the common,
the tents, and the animals browsing. "Be it so; Japhet, good night, may
you prosper!" She then turned away and entered her tent; and soon
afterwards I followed her example.
The next day, Melchior was all ready. What he had packed up was
contained in two small bundles. He addressed the people belonging to
the gang, in their own language. Nattee did the same, and the whole of
them kissed her hand. The tents, furniture, and the greatest part of
his other property, were distributed among them. Jumbo and Num were
made over to two of the principal men. Timothy, Fleta, and I were also
ready, and intended to quit at the same time as Melchior and his wife.
"Japhet," said Melchior, "there is yet some money due to you for our
last excursion--(this was true,)--here it is--you and Timothy keep but
one purse, I am aware. Good-bye, and may you prosper!"
We shook hands with Nattee and Melchior. Fleta went up to the former,
and, crossing her arms, bent her head. Nattee kissed the child, and led
her to Melchior. He stooped down, kissed her on the forehead, and I
perceived a sign of strongly suppressed emotion as he did so. Our
intended routes lay in a different direction; and when both parties had
arrived to either verge of the common, we waved our hands as a last
farewell, and resumed our paths again. Fleta burst into tears as she
turned away from her former guardians.