FREE AGAIN.
Zula had been a prisoner three weeks, all that time being closely
watched by Crisp, and had it not been for the stolen visits she
received from the young gypsy girl, Fan, she would have been desolate
indeed. She entered the hut one day where Zula was imprisoned, and
going close to her she whispered:
"Zula, they are going to drug you to-night, but now don't you be
scared, for I'll manage to fix it myself. They don't think I would
play any trick, but I will, and you be sure not to say a word against
taking it."
"What is that for? What are they going to do?"
"They say you must be untied, or you will get lame, and not be able to
travel, for we'll move on in a week or two, and don't you attempt to
go out of the tent, for they are going to keep an eye on you to see if
the herb works right."
Zula sat a moment in deep thought ere she replied; then, looking
closely in Fan's eyes, and speaking in a voice so low that Fan could
just distinguish her words, she asked:
"Fan, will you trust me to ask you something and promise me not to
tell a living soul?"
"Yes; I'll promise."
"You won't betray me?"
"No."
"True?"
"As sure as can be."
"You must help me, Fan. I must get away."
"Oh, I'll be lonely without you, Zu."
"But they'll kill me yet, Fan, and if I can I must get away, and if
you will only help me, I will do something for you if I can. Will you
help me, Fan?"
"Yes, Zu, I will."
"Well, then, to-morrow night, when they are all asleep, come as still
as you can and untie the ropes, and I will escape."
Fan gave the required promise and then left Zula, saying that if she
stayed too long they might suspect something. Crisp and his mother
were seated on the ground, apart from the rest. Fan strolled near
several times, but could hear nothing of their conversation. That
night, as Zula lay patiently waiting, Fan entered the tent, saying in
a loud voice:
"Here, Zula, Crisp told me to bring you this tea; he says it will
strengthen you."
Zula took the tea, and, lying back on her bed of straw, was soon, to
all appearance, fast asleep, but though her eyes were closed and her
body motionless, her brain was still at work.
She had not lain there more than an hour ere she heard a pressure of
the grass, and a smothered whisper near by. She began to fear that
the two were to commit some terrible deed, and her heart beat wildly,
but she controlled every outward emotion, knowing that her only hope
lay in apparent ignorance of their presence. Old Meg, holding a torch
closer to her face, whispered:
"Yes, she is sound asleep; now for the search. I'm sure she has it."
"Oh, yes, I'm pretty sure I saw her take it," said Crisp.
Old Meg then proceeded to examine Zula's clothing, but after a
thorough search turned away in disgust.
Zula heard words which made her heart stand still, and her face grew
pale; heard that which changed her resolutions and the current of her
life. Three years ago it would have been impossible for her to lie
there quietly and control the intermingling of anger and grief that
swelled her heart; but she had learned from the teachings which she
had received, as well as from experience, that no good comes of hasty
passions, and calling into action all her powers of endurance, she lay
as calm as a sleeping infant until Crisp and Meg left the tent.
All night she lay trying to devise means whereby she could make her
escape, sleeping only at intervals. In the morning Meg entered to find
what the effect of the drug had been. Zula, tired out from anxiety,
had sunk into a heavy slumber. Old Meg, stooping down, looked steadily
into her face, then left the tent. When the sun was going down that
night she directed Crisp to see that Zula was securely tied, which
work he was only too eager to do. It was night. The gypsies were all
sleeping soundly. A cloud had blinded the setting sun, which,
continuing to spread until night came on, grew to an inky darkness.
Now and then a tiny red line shot out from the blackened clouds, which
were growing more and more dense, and a faint rumbling of the far away
thunder could be heard. Midnight came, and Zula, with feverish
anxiety, awaited the time for Fan to come and release her.
"Oh," thought Zula, "what if Fan had fallen asleep, and forgotten all
about her, or worse yet, what if she were playing a part and should
tell Crisp her secret. He would have no mercy on her." She grew
nervous at the very thought. "Oh, what a risk she was running to
undertake to gain her freedom. Oh, if Fan would only come."
"Zula," she heard whispered in the darkness.
"Oh, Fan, I am so glad you are here."
"Hush! We must be quick, for the storm is coming on and it may wake
some one."
"God help me," said Zula.
Fan proceeded quickly but quietly to untie the ropes which bound
Zula's hands, and it was no easy task, being in utter darkness, but
the work was soon accomplished with the help of Fan's teeth, and,
taking Zula's hand, they stealthily crept out into the black night.
"Good bye," whispered Fan. "Now go; they might find out if I don't go
back. They all slept when I crawled from the tent. Now go, and may the
good fairies go with you to protect you."
"Fan, go with me."
"Oh, what would I do? I have no home nor any place. No, no, go."
[Illustration: "Good bye--Now go!"]
Zula pressed Fan's hand and then she was left standing alone in the
inky darkness, with all the great wide world around her. The woods,
the grass, the wild flowers, even the broad, black sky above, none of
which she could discern, seemed to speak to her of freedom, and
whisper of a hope which she had thought forever lost. Standing there
in the darkness under the sky, angry with a fast approaching storm,
with the great raindrops falling about her and danger on every hand,
she saw her castle again rising up in the darkness--saw again the
glistening panes, the marble walls and sparkling fountain--saw the
castle which would rise despite the darkness around her. She groped
her way for some distance and suddenly came in contact with a huge oak
tree which gave her head a fierce blow. She sank to the earth with a
groan.
"Oh, dear," she said, "what shall I do? Oh, my head, and I shall get
soaking wet. I wonder what I shall do? I can't stay here; it is too
close by. I must get away, for even now they may have missed me. I
don't know where it will be, but I must find my way to somewhere. If I
go to Mrs. Platts I must tell her all, and then she will know I am a
gypsy, and I would rather die than have her know that."