"Possibly as well as you do; I have been three years in that excellent country." "Please to tell me who you are, then, and why you come to his Excellency's house?" Gavin laughed at the impertinence of it. Speaking in fluent German, he said: "I might very well put that question to you. Shall I say, then, that I am not here to answer your questions. Come, we had better be frank with each other. I may be able to help you." This was a new idea to the gypsy and one that caused him some perplexity. A little reflection convinced him that the stranger was right. "Very well," he said, "we will talk about it. Come to my tent and Djala shall make us coffee. Why not be friends? Yes, we might help each other, as you say. Let us talk first and then we can quarrel." He led the way through a path of the dell, powdering the ground with the golden dust of wild flowers as he went. The encampment had been enlarged considerably since Evelyn discovered it on the gypsies first coming to Moretown. There were no less than seven tents; and the biggest of these, the one to which Gavin's guide now conducted him, had been furnished with lavish generosity. Old silver lamps from the Hall cast a warm, soft light upon the couches and rugs about; there were old tapestries hung against the canvas; tables glittering with silver ornaments; a buffet laden with bottles and silver boxes. But the chief ornament was Djala, a little Hungarian girl, and such a perfect picture of wild beauty that Gavin stared at her amazed. "Here is Djala," the guide said, with a gesture of his hand toward her. "I am known as Zallony's son. His Excellency may have spoken of me." "I know nothing," said Gavin simply. "Permit me to tell the young lady that she has a charming voice. I have never heard music that fascinated me so much." "It is the music of a nation of musicians, sir. Please to sit down. Djala will serve us cigarettes and coffee." The girl laughed pleasantly, showing a row of shining white teeth and evidently understanding that a compliment had been paid her by the stranger. When she had served the coffee and cigarettes, she ran away with a coquette's step and they heard her singing outside to the soft accompaniment of a zither. Zallony's son smoked meanwhile with the contemplative silence of the Oriental; and Gavin, waiting for him, would not be the first to break the truce. "So you have been in Germany, sir?" "I was there three years," said Gavin. "You know Bukharest, it may be?" "Not at all, though a lady's book was on the point of sending me to the Carpathians." "You should go and see my country; it is the finest in the world." "I will take care to do so on the earliest opportunity." "Make friends with my people and they will be your friends. We never forget, sir. That is why I am here in this English country, because we never forget." "The best of qualities.... They tell me that your father was his Excellency's friend in Roumania many years ago."