THROUGH THE NIGHT AND THE STORM
Ruth did not really know what to think of Roberto, the Gypsy boy.
His push, as he passed her, had been most rude, but his whispered words
seemed a promise of friendship. He did not look at her again, as he went
around the encampment. Roberto seemed a privileged character, and it was
not hard to guess that he was Queen Zelaya's favorite grandchild.
As for the prisoner, she was scarcely spoken to by anybody. She was not
abused, but she felt her position keenly. Particularly was she ashamed
of her appearance--barefooted, bareheaded, and stained until she seemed
as dark as the Gypsy girls themselves. Ruth thought she looked
altogether hateful!
"I really would be ashamed to have Tom Cameron see me now," she thought.
Yet she would have been delighted indeed to see Tom! It was in her
chum's twin brother that she hoped, after all, for escape.
For Roberto, the Gypsy, ignored her completely. She feared that his
whispered words to her, when he first entered the camp, had meant
nothing after all. Why should she expect him to be different from his
tribesmen?
The Gypsies fed her well and allowed her to wander about the camp as she
pleased. There were two sentinels set to watch the northern and southern
shores of the lake. Nobody could approach the island without being
observed and warning given to the camp.
Ruth had lost hope of anybody coming to the encampment in search of her,
for the present. The constable had doubtless been sent by Tom Cameron,
and he would report that there was nobody but Gypsies in the camp.
Nobody but her immediate friends would distinguish Ruth from a Gypsy
now.
If Helen had found Tom, the situation could not be changed much for
Ruth--and the latter realized that. Mr. Cameron and Uncle Jabez would
have to be communicated with, before a general alarm could be sent out
and detectives put on the case.
By that time, where would the girl from the Red Mill be?
This question was no easy one to answer. Ruth did not believe the
Gypsies would remain on this island for any length of time. Queen Zelaya
was doubtless shrewd enough to plan a long jump next time, and so throw
off pursuit.
Indeed, all the next day the girl could do little but worry about her
own situation, and about Helen's fate. The last she had seen of her
chum, she had been drifting out into the middle of this lake. Suppose
the punt had sprung a leak, or capsized?
Clouds gathered that day, and the second evening on the island closed
with a steady, fine rain falling. The encampment was quiet early. Even
the dogs found shelter from the wet, but Ruth had every reason to
believe that the Gypsy men took turns in guarding the encampment.
Ruth was made to sleep in Queen Zelaya's van, and as soon as it had
become real dark, the old woman made her enter. In her rags of clothing,
Ruth was not afraid of a little rain--surely she had on nothing that
would be spoiled by the wet; but she had to obey the old hag.
At supper time Roberto brought the bowls of savory stew that usually
made up that meal for the Gypsies. There were three bowls on the tray
and the boy gave Ruth a sharp side glance and pointed to a certain bowl.
She dared not refuse to take it.
When he approached his grandmother at the other end of the van, he
removed his own bowl before setting the tray upon the box beside her.
Ruth hesitated to eat her own portion; she had been afraid of being
drugged from the beginning.
Yet, somehow, she could not help feeling confidence in Roberto. The
latter ate his supper with gusto, talking all the while with the old
woman. But he went away without a word or look at Ruth after the meal.
Soon Zelaya made her go to bed. Ruth was not sleepy, but she appeared to
go to sleep almost at once, as she had before. She lay down in all the
clothing she wore, for she was apprehensive of something happening on
this night. She saw that the old woman was very drowsy herself.
Appearing to sleep, Ruth waited and watched. The storm whined in the
trees of the island, but there was no other noise.
Zelaya was at the locked box again, and she soon drew forth her
treasure-casket. She fondled the collar of pearls as she had on the
first night Ruth had slept in the van.
The girl was watching for that evil face at the window again. For a
moment she thought she saw it, but then she recognized that it was
Roberto's handsome face against the wet pane.
Suddenly Ruth realized that the old woman had fallen asleep over her box
of valuables. The girl was confident that there had been a drugged bowl
at supper time, but _she_ had not eaten of it.
There was a little noise at the door--ever so slight. The handle turned,
and Roberto's head was thrust in. He nodded at Ruth as though he were
sure she was not asleep, and then creeping up the steps, he gazed at his
grandmother.
There could be no doubt that she was sound asleep! He slipped in and
closed the door. At first he did not say a word to Ruth.
He went to Zelaya's side and shook her lightly. She did not awake. As
though she were a child, the strong youth lifted her and placed her in
the bed. Then he locked the small box, put the key again around Zelaya's
neck, and lowered the treasure box into the chest. The padlock of this
he snapped and then turned cheerfully to the watchful Ruth.
"Come!" he whispered. "Missy not afraid of Roberto? Come!"
No. Ruth was _not_ afraid of him. She rose quickly and preceded him, as
he directed by a gesture, out of the door of the van. There was neither
light nor sound in the whole camp.
Once they were free, Roberto seized the girl's hand and led her through
the darkness and the rain. Ruth's tender feet stumbled painfully over
the rough ground, but the boy was not impatient.
He seemed to know his way in the dark by instinct. Certainly, Ruth could
scarcely see her hand before her face!
However, it was not long before she realized that they had come out upon
the shore of the island. There was a vast, empty-looking place before
them, which Ruth knew must be the open lake.
Where the sentinels had gone, she could not guess, unless Roberto had
managed to drug _them_, too!
However, there was not a word said, save when Roberto led her down, to
the water and she felt it lave her feet. Then he muttered, in a low
tone:
"Don't fear, little Missy."
As they waded deeper and deeper into the lake, following as she supposed
the track by which the wagons had come to the island, Ruth _was_ more
than a little frightened. Yet she would not show Roberto it was so.
Once she whispered to him: "I can swim, Roberto."
"Good! But I will carry you," and he suddenly stooped, slung her across
his shoulder as though she had been a feather-weight, and marched on
through the water.
It was plain that the Gypsy boy knew this ford better than the drivers
of the vans, for he found no spot that he could not wade through and
carry Ruth, as well. It was nearly an hour before they reached the land.
The rain beat upon them and the wind soughed in the trees. It seemed to
get darker and darker, yet Roberto never hesitated for direction, and
setting Ruth down upon her own feet, helped her on till they came to a
well-traveled road.
Not far ahead was a light. Ruth knew at once that it was a lamp shining
through the windows of some farmhouse kitchen.
"There they will take you in," Roberto said. "They are kind people. I am
sorry I could not bring away your own clothes and your bag. But it could
not be, Missy."
"Oh! you have been so good to me, Roberto!" she cried, seizing both of
his hands. "However can I thank you--or repay you?"
"Don't be too hard on Gypsy--on my old grandmother. She is old and she
is a miser. She thought she could make your friends pay her money. But
now we will all leave here in the morning and you shall never be
troubled by us again."
"I will do nothing to punish her, Roberto," promised Ruth. "But I hope I
shall see you at the Red Mill some time."
"Perhaps--who knows?" returned the youth, with a smile that she could
see in the dark, his teeth were so white. "Now run to the door and
knock. When I see it opened and you go in, I will return."
Ruth Fielding did as she was bidden. She entered the gate, mounted the
porch, and rapped upon the kitchen door. The moment she looked into the
motherly face of the woman who answered her knock, the girl knew that
her troubles were over.