Adam was not wealthy in the same sense as Kola, the chief, might have been called wealthy; but he had savings, and it was pitiable to watch him squander them in vain efforts to gratify the sick boy’s whims and set the anxious mother’s mind at rest. Protest was useless—equally useless to urge a longer trial of rational treatment; he was determined that no stone should be left unturned. His confidence in the witch-doctor lasted longer than his faith in any legitimate practitioner had lasted, but it crumbled away gradually, undermined by the obvious failure of her treatment. And then Adam heroically resolved to incur the great expense of taking his wife and child for a pilgrimage all the way to Czenstochowa in Russian Poland. The celebrated shrine has since become notorious, for the dissolute priests robbed the holy image of its gems; but in July, 1911, it was in high repute among the Gypsies, and some of them had pictures of the Virgin of Czenstochowa in their tents. The journey must have been a trying one for the invalid, but on their way home the family rested for a while at Berlin, and Adam sent triumphant telegrams to Birkenhead announcing that the boy was cured. Alas! As I approached the camp on the occasion of my first visit after their return, the little lad saw me from a distance, and ran forward to take my hand. He looked well and happy, and we walked on gaily towards the tents. But suddenly the weight on my wrist increased, the child seemed to stumble, and looking down I saw that he was unconscious. Misfortune dogged that unhappy family. Poor Zhawzha, enervated by constant solicitude, died at Mitcham, and was buried with ceremonies the barbaric extravagance of which was probably without parallel in this country. There followed unseemly bickerings about the possession of her property and the custody of the children, and Adam parted from the band to return to his own tribe. But it is comforting to know that, whatever may have happened during these days of grief, whatever sorrows the future may hold in store, that little afflicted boy will not be allowed to suffer unnecessarily. May his health be restored gradually as the years pass! But should fate decree that he must remain infirm during all the days of his life, it is certain that the tender care which was lavished on the sick Gypsy by his warm-hearted compatriots when he was a child will not be withdrawn when he becomes a grown man. 8. A GOOD WORK. {44}