A PECULIAR PEOPLE.
It is only fair to state that Lord Bellinger writhed and struggled with
a vigour not to have been expected from his attenuated frame, much to
the delight of his captors, who were inclined to treat him more
leniently than if he had submitted, like his footman, without show of
resistance. This champion they kicked and belaboured to some purpose,
while they pinioned his fellow-servant, from whose readier hands they
had wrested the harmless blunderbuss, and threatened him in frightful
language if he ventured to stir a finger. To my lady, though insisting
that she should retain her seat in the carriage, they behaved with
extreme politeness. She was afterwards heard, indeed, to protest that
the robber-chief, as she called Fin Cooper, seemed a perfect gentleman;
that he had a distinguished air, and for a black man--though, in a
general way, she could not abide black men (Lord Bellinger being as
black as a crow)--was by no means ill-looking.
Mistress Rachel, too, while frightened and hysterical, as behoved her
station, clung persistently to the arm of a stout gipsy, who mounted
guard over her person, entreating him, in piteous terms, to respect her
youth, and, above all, to protect her from the insults of his comrades;
lavishing on him tender glances, and contrasting his assured demeanour
with the cowardice of her late admirer, whose very teeth chattered for
dismay. My lord, in the meantime, with a swarthy fellow at each limb,
lay helpless on his back, cursing volubly, but losing neither presence
of mind nor temper. Indeed, when he had sufficiently relieved his
feelings by such ebullitions, and perceived that no violence was offered
to Lady Bellinger or her maid, the situation seemed to strike him as
ludicrous, and, bursting into a laugh, he called on the gipsies to
release him, promising, on his honour, that no further resistance should
be offered by himself, or his servants, to the continuation of their
frolic.
Fin Cooper took him at his word. Exchanging a few short sentences with
Waif in his own Romany language, unintelligible to the captives, he
raised Lord Bellinger to his feet and restored the rapier which had been
wrested from that struggling nobleman.
"You are a _Gorgio Raia_," said he, "and I but a _Romany Chal_.
Nevertheless, there is honour among thieves, and I'll trust yours if
you'll trust mine." "I cannot speak your language," answered his
lordship; "but your manners are those of a perfect gentleman. Pray
select from my coach whatever articles you fancy, except her ladyship,
my wife, whose health does not admit of her taking exercise on foot, and
I would venture to suggest that, in rifling the sword case, no violence
be used. It contains three bottles of excellent Chambertin, which it
would be a pity to break. I can only regret that I am not better
prepared to entertain so large a party."
"You're made of the right stuff," answered Fin Cooper; "and another time
you'll know that a _Romany Chal_ means a gipsy lad, and a _Gorgio Raia_
a nobleman of the Gentiles. We'll drink your health, my lord, never
fear, and give yourself and your lady a share, if you'll condescend to
wet your lips on the same cup with us. Now, pals," he added, turning to
the gang, "take what you want and let us be off. High Toby's a good game
for the winner, but it's best to play it out before the moon gets up."
The gipsies then proceeded to appropriate the contents of the coach,
exchanging grins and smiles and whispered congratulations in their own
language on the value of their prize.
Only Waif stood aloof, gazing into the darkness, where the grey horse
and his rider had long ago disappeared.
Presently a scream from my lady announced that some tawny hand was laid
on her jewel-case. "My diamonds!" she exclaimed; and tears of real
distress rose in her eyes, as she raised them to Fin Cooper's face. "Oh!
sir! I beseech you, let me keep my diamonds. For pity's sake, do not
send me back into the great world naked and ashamed, without so much as
a clasp of brilliants to fasten round my neck!"
"I do believe as her ladyship would rather lose her maid than her
jewels," whispered Rachel, with a glance at her swarthy guardian, that
intimated no great disinclination to be retained as a pledge instead.
My lord laughed. "I would play you for the set, and welcome," said he.
"But though you will find a pack of cards in every pocket of the coach,
the devil a guinea have I left to stake. It's a pity," he added, "for
just now I'm in a vein of luck. Only last night I won five games running
of our friend on the grey horse, though it seems to be his turn now!"
"Galloping Jack is hard to beat at any game he chooses to play,"
answered the gipsy, in whose ear Waif had whispered a few hurried words.
"Nevertheless, win or lose, he's far enough by this time. It takes a
bird of the air to catch Jack when he gets his spurs into the grey."
"Confound him!" said his lordship heartily, reflecting that, by all the
rules of fair-play, this enterprising highwayman was now riding into
safety with _his_ money on _his_ horse. "Drink up your liquor, my good
friends, and let us make some arrangements for the future. I presume
you do not wish us to remain unsheltered on the downs all night?"
"Not an inch will I stir without my diamonds!" exclaimed his wife. "Mind
that, my lord. If they go into captivity, I go too!"
"And I humbly hope, as is my bounden duty, to attend your ladyship,"
added Mistress Rachel, trying hard to blush, while she stole another
look in her guardian's gipsy face.
Fin Cooper scratched his handsome black head in some perplexity. Of all
incumbrances, the last he would have chosen was a lady of quality, with
her waiting gentlewoman. How was he to get them to the tents? What was
he to do with them when there? If retained as hostages they would give
more trouble than they were worth; and such a speculation promised no
great profit, for Lord Bellinger's easy indifference seemed to infer
neither high ransom nor prompt payment. Fin would rather have foregone
jewels, lady, and lady's-maid, than be hampered with all three.
Again he consulted Waif, and, after the interchange of a few brief
sentences in their own language, of which my lord, listening intently
for all his assumed carelessness, could only catch the words "fakement"
(a piece of work), "fashono" (fictitious), and "balanser" (a pound
sterling), cleared his brows, and made a profound bow to her ladyship,
with all the politeness of a dancing-master.
"The Romany in his tent," said he, "can be courteous as the Gorgio in
his castle. If the Rawnie (lady) sets such store by her gew-gaws, let
her keep them and welcome! When she walks in her jewels among the great
ones of the earth, she will think not unkindly of the Romany raklo (the
gipsy lad) who wished her good luck and good speed on Marlborough
Downs."
He had learned from Waif, whose experience while in the Patron's service
taught her many a strange secret, that the diamonds were but paste,
and, with characteristic promptitude, seized the opportunity of
affecting a princely magnificence at trifling cost.
Her ladyship, who must have known, while she obstinately ignored, the
truth, was disappointed beyond measure. In her own circle many romantic
stories were told of the courtesy shown by highwaymen to ladies of
gentle birth. She expected no less than to redeem her jewels by some
such harmless gallantries as those practised in a game of forfeits, and
would have felt little disinclination to dance a rigadoon by moonlight
on the level turf with this well-made gipsy for a partner. It seemed a
bad compliment that he should give her up the best share of his booty,
and never so much as ask to kiss her hand in return.
My lord burst out laughing, and offered his snuff-box. "By St. George,"
said he, "you must be the king of the gipsies himself. A man who
presents a lady with a set of diamonds, and makes no more to-do than I
would about a bunch of flowers, ought to sit on a throne; and, excuse my
freedom, in an unpatched pair of breeches. May I ask the gentleman's
name to whom her ladyship is so deeply indebted, and whose generosity is
only equalled by the simplicity of his dress?"
The gipsy's black eyes shot a cunning glance in his lordship's face. Its
expression was so good-humoured and mirthful, that it was obvious no
insult could be intended; and the slender hand that had stolen like
lightning to a knife in his girdle was as quickly withdrawn.
"They call me Fin Cooper," said he, frankly, "in the patter of the
Gorgios; but if your lordship ever condescends to visit our
camping-ground, ask for Kaulo Vardo-mescro (Black Cooper), and you shall
receive a brother's welcome in the tents. Prala (brother), there is my
hand upon it!"
With a gravity that was in itself ridiculous, the pair shook hands;
while my lady, in tones of extreme impatience, demanded "how much longer
they were to remain on the open down, and what was to be done next?"
Again there was a whispered consultation among the gipsies, and again
Waif was called into council. Fin Cooper then addressed his prisoners
with a calm dignity, such as Lord Bellinger had many times seen
attempted unsuccessfully in the legislative chamber to which he
belonged.
"My lord," said he, "and especially my lady, it gives me great
uneasiness that I should be obliged to cause you inconvenience. My
brothers, however, will not hear of your being released till they have
gained two hours' start. By that time," he added, looking up at the
stars, "it will be nearly eleven o'clock. You will find a good inn, not
three miles from this spot, where I will take care that beds and supper
are prepared. You will, I hope, be comfortably lodged before midnight.
In the meantime, it will be necessary to secure your acquiescence by
binding you hand and foot. Excuse the liberty, my lord and my lady, it
is but for a couple of hours."
"And who is to unbind us when eleven o'clock strikes?" asked her
ladyship, in tones of exceeding disquiet.
"Unless you leave somebody on purpose!" added Mistress Rachel, with a
titter.
"I don't see the necessity," observed my lord, tapping his snuff-box;
"you have trusted my honour once to-night, why not put me on my _parole_
again?"
Fin Cooper pondered. It seemed a good jest enough to leave the party he
had captured huddled together on the open down, tied hand and foot, as
it were, in imaginary fetters by Lord Bellinger's word of honour alone;
but how if his lordship, treating the whole affair also as a jest,
should turn the tables, and proceed to raise the country in pursuit
directly his captors had withdrawn? On whose side would the laugh be
then?
It speaks well, both for gipsy and nobleman, that Fin's hesitation was
of no long continuance.
"I think the Gorgio means fair," he whispered to Waif, "for all he wears
a clean shirt on his back. Am I a fool to trust him, my sister, or is he
fool enough to respect my trust? We could hardly, without hurting them,
tie them up so tight but that they might release one another in the
space of two hours; and this job will look quite black enough as it
stands, without cruelty. It's highway robbery, Thyra, and, I fear,
something like what the Gorgios call high treason to boot! You are wise,
my sister, and know these Gentiles well; counsel me what to do."
Waif reflected for a moment ere she answered, gipsy-like, by a parable.
"Do you remember, brother," said she, "how one night in the apple-water
country, on the banks of the Wye, we took a rooster off his perch, and
brought the poor dazed chiriclo (bird) into our empty barn by the light
of a single lanthorn? How Mother Stanley bade us lay the fowl's bill
against the bare boards, and draw from it a line of white chalk to the
far edge of the threshing-floor? and how the helpless creature never so
much as lifted its beak from the spot to which it believed itself tied?
Brother, you speak the truth when you say I know the Gorgios. They are
like that foolish barn-door fowl. This Raya here is a game-cock of their
choicest breed. At his own time, in his own way, he will strut, and
fight, and crow as lustily as the best chanticleer of them all; but tie
him up in his word of honour, and he will no more stir an inch out of
that imaginary circle than Aunt Stanley's fowl moved from the line of
chalk on our barn floor. I have spoken brother, let us go hence."
The gipsy turned to his prisoner. "My lord," said he, "I will trust
your lordship's word. You shall promise, as a gentleman, not to stir in
your own person, nor to permit one of your people to leave this spot,
till two hours of the night are fairly past. On this understanding your
whole party shall at once be set free, and the Romanies will take their
leave, humbly wishing your lordship good-night."
"You'll give me back my watch," said Lord Bellinger, feeling in his
empty fob, with a shrug of his shoulders, "or how shall I know when the
time is expired, and we may put the horses to?"
Fin Cooper laughed. He liked a man who never threw a chance away, while
at the same time he knew the value of a heavy gold watch set in
diamonds.
"Look well at that fir-tree, my lord," said he, pointing upwards; "when
the moon, now rising, has cleared the second branch from the top two
hours will have elapsed, and you can depart."
"If you know the time so exactly without a watch," replied his lordship,
"you can have no use for mine. However, it's a pretty keepsake enough,
and you're welcome to it. But harky'e, my friend, one word before you
go. Is there no chance of our being beset by other gentlemen of your
profession? You've left nothing for them to take, 'tis true, except the
clothes on our backs; but the disappointment might make them harder to
deal with than you have been yourselves. You couldn't afford us a guard,
could you? That pretty boy, for instance," glancing at Waif, who shrank
hastily behind the others, "and a couple of stout fellows, in case there
should be a fight."
Nobody but Mistress Rachel seemed disappointed at the gipsy's answer.
"It is needless," he said; "our patrin will hold you unharmed, as if
your coach was surrounded by an escort of Light Horse."
"Your patrin? What is that?" asked my lord.
"The sign that none of our people will pass unnoticed," said the gipsy;
"that not one of the profession dare disregard, from the best galloping
gentleman on the road to the poor cly-faker who pulls an old woman's
petticoat off a hedge. I will set it for you at once."
Thus speaking, he drew his knife from the sheath, and cut three crosses,
side by side, in the turf, north, south, east, and west of the party.
This done, the word was given to march; and in less than a minute these
strange assailants, who seemed to have the facility of deer and other
wild animals in availing themselves of any irregularity in the ground,
had disappeared from the surface of the downs, though a moon already
nearly full was shining brightly above the horizon.
My lord looked after them in silence as they vanished. Then, turning to
his wife, observed, with a meaning smile, "They have left you your
diamonds, my dear. I wonder where they learned to know brilliants from
paste?"
Her ladyship, an image of outraged dignity, was sitting bolt upright in
the back of the coach.
"Their leader is a perfect gentleman," she replied, "and would no more
rob a lady of her trinkets than he would allude to her misfortunes.
There are noblemen of position who might take example by the gracious
manners and high bearing of this mysterious gipsy."
The taunt, if meant for such, was lost on her husband. "Two hours," he
yawned; "two hours all but five minutes at the best. How shall we get
through two mortal hours? There is moonlight--that's a comfort; and our
friends have left us the cards. I will sit in the coach, and play your
ladyship a game at picquet."
"What shall we play for?" said my lady.
"For love!" said my lord, and began to deal.