"Little Cockchafer, golden fellow, I ask thee not when comes the summer time, Nor do I ask how long shall life be mine. I ask thee but to tell me When I my love's shall be." The boy's voice was sweet and true, and he sang the little song prettily, but so mournfully that tears streamed down the broad, red face of the peasant woman. "Why do you sing to break one's heart?" she demanded, and Banda Bela answered: "I sang it but as my mother sang when she was here." "She is dead, then?" "She and my father, my brothers and sisters. I have no one left." The boy's face clouded. "Me you have," said Marushka, with a funny little pout. "I must go to my herd now," said the shepherd. "Come back to-night and we shall give you your supper for another song." They reached the shepherd's hut that evening to find his wife awaiting him, but he did not come. He was far away with his herd. As it grew dark his wife gave the children bread and milk and bade them hurry to bed. "It is late for little children like you," she said. "To-morrow we will see you again. To-day I asked about you at the camp and got but black looks in answer." Banda Bela hurried Marushka away, fearing a scolding, for he had not meant to stay away all day, but when he reached the camp it was dark and still. The fire was nearly out under the fire-pot, the tent flaps were closed. He dared not waken any one, but Dushka, an old Gypsy woman with an evil face, looked out from her tent. "Oh, it is you, is it?" she said. "Well, there is no food left, but drink this and you will sleep," and she gave each of the children a mug of dark liquid. It tasted bitter but they drank obediently. Then the old woman took Marushka into her tent while Banda Bela threw himself down under a poplar tree near the fire embers, and was soon fast asleep. FOOTNOTE: [5] A famous Hungarian patriot. CHAPTER IV DESERTED BANDA BELA slept heavily through the night. He dreamed in a confused way that he heard the Gypsies talking and one of them said, "She brings ill luck. Men ask of her white locks. The boy is well enough, though one more to feed. But the other brings ill fortune to the band." Another said, "No ill will come to them." Then he dreamed no more, but slept a dead and heavy sleep. He was awakened by a hand upon his shoulder. Some one shook him and he started to his feet to see the shepherd bending over him. "What is it?" asked Banda Bela. "Where is your camp and where is the little girl?" demanded the shepherd. Banda Bela looked around him in amazement. Of the Gypsy camp there was not a trace left, save that dead embers lay where once the fire-pot had been. Tents, carts, horses, Gypsies,--all had vanished from the face of the earth as completely as if they had never been there. "They have gone and left me!" cried Banda Bela. "Marushka! Where is Marushka?"