CHAPTER XXVII

THE WORLD FOR SALE

As though by magic, like the pictures of a dream, out of the horizon,

in caravans, by train, on horseback, the Romany people gathered to the

obsequies of their chief and king. For months, hundreds of them had not

been very far away. Unobtrusive, silent, they had waited, watched, till

the Ry of Rys should come back home again. Home to them was the open

road where Romanys trailed or camped the world over.

A clot of blood in the heart had been the verdict of the doctors; and

Lebanon and Manitou had watched the Ry of Rys carried by his own people

to the open prairie near to Tekewani's reservation. There, in the hours

between the midnight and the dawn, all Gabriel Druse's personal

belongings--the clothes, the chair in which he sat, the table at which he

ate, the bed in which he slept, were brought forth and made into a pyre,

as was the Romany way. Nothing personal of his chattels remained behind.

The walking-stick which lay beside him in the moment of his death was the

last thing placed upon the pyre. Then came the match, and the flames

made ashes of all those things which once he called his own. Standing

apart, Tekewani and his braves watched the ceremonial of fire with a

sympathy born of primitive custom. It was all in tune with the

traditions of their race.

As dawn broke, and its rosy light valanced the horizon, a great

procession moved away from the River Sagalac towards the East, to which

all wandering and Oriental peoples turn their eyes. With it, all that

was mortal of Gabriel Druse went to its hidden burial. Only to the

Romany people would his last resting-place be known; it would be as

obscure as the grave of him who was laid:

"By Nebo's lonely mountain, On this side Jordan's wave."

Many people from Manitou and Lebanon watched the long procession pass,

and two remained until the last wagon had disappeared over the crest of

the prairie. Behind them were the tents of the Indian reservation;

before them was the alert morn and the rising sun; and ever moving on to

the rest his body had earned was the great chief lovingly attended by his

own Romany folk; while his daughter, forbidden to share in the ceremonial

of race, remained with the stranger.

With a face as pale and cold as the western sky, the desolation of this

last parting and a tragic renunciation giving her a deathly beauty, Fleda

stood beside the man who must hereafter be, to her, father, people, and

all else. Shuddering with the pain of this hour, yet resolved to begin

the new life here and now, as the old life faded before her eyes, she

turned to him, and, with the passing of the last Romany over the crest of

the hill, she said bravely:

"I want to help you do the big things. They will be yours. The world is

all for you yet."

Ingolby shook his head. He had had his Moscow.

His was the true measure of things now; his lesson had been learned;

values were got by new standards; he knew in a real sense the things that

mattered.

"I have you--the world for sale!" he said, with the air of one

discarding a useless thing.

GLOSSARY OF ROMANY WORDS

Bosh----fiddle, noise, music.

Bor----an exclamation (literally, a hedge).

Chal----lad, fellow.

Chi----child, daughter, girl.

Dadia----an exclamation.

Dordi----an exclamation.

Hotchewitchi----hedgehog.

Kek----no, none.

Koppa----blanket.

Mi Duvel----My God.

Patrin----small heaps of grass, or leaves, or twigs, or string, laid at

cross-roads to indicate the route that must be followed.

Pral----brother or friend.

Rinkne rakli----pretty girl.

Ry----King or ruler.

Tan----tent, camp.

Vellgouris----fair.

ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:

Agony in thinking about the things we're never going to do

I don't believe in walking just for the sake of walking

It's no good simply going--you've got to go somewhere

Most honest thing I ever heard, but it's not the most truthful

Women may leave you in the bright days

The World for Sale, Volume 3. · 第 9 / 9 章