Clergy -- Fiction; Love stories; Scotland -- Fiction
"No in the way you mean," muttered the gypsy, and for the moment her
eyes twinkled. But the light in them went out when she remembered that
the sheriff was near, and she looked desperately at the window as if
ready to fling herself from it. She had very good reasons for not
wishing to be seen by Riach, though fear that he would put her in gaol
was not one of them.
Halliwell thought it was the one cause of her woe, and great was his
desire to turn the tables on the sheriff.
"Tell me the truth," he said, "and I promise to befriend you."
"Weel, then," the gypsy said, hoping still to soften his heart, and
making up her story as she told it, "yestreen I met the shirra, and he
telled me a' I hae telled the Thrums folk this nicht."
"You can scarcely expect me to believe that. Where did you meet him?"
"In Glen Quharity. He was riding on a horse."
"Well, I allow he was there yesterday, and on horseback. He was on his
way back to Tilliedrum from Lord Rintoul's place. But don't tell me
that he took a gypsy girl into his confidence."
"Ay, he did, without kenning. He was gieing his horse a drink when I
met him, and he let me tell him his fortune. He said he would gaol me
for an impostor if I didna tell him true, so I gaed about it
cautiously, and after a minute or twa I telled him he was coming to
Thrums the nicht to nab the rioters."
"You are trifling with me," interposed the indignant soldier. "You
promised to tell me not what you said to the sheriff, but how he
disclosed our movements to you."
"And that's just what I am telling you, only you hinna the rumelgumption
to see it. How do you think fortunes is telled? First we get out o' the
man, without his seeing what we're after, a' about himsel', and syne
we repeat it to him. That's what I did wi' the shirra."
"You drew the whole thing out of him without his knowing?"
"'Deed I did, and he rode awa' saying I was a witch."
The soldier heard with the delight of a schoolboy.
"Now if the sheriff does not liberate you at my request," he said, "I
will never let him hear the end of this story. He was right; you are a
witch. You deceived the sheriff; yes, undoubtedly you are a witch."
He looked at her with fun in his face, but the fun disappeared, and a
wondering admiration took its place.
"By Jove!" he said, "I don't wonder you bewitched the sheriff. I must
take care or you will bewitch the captain, too."
At this notion he smiled, but he also ceased looking at her. Suddenly
the Egyptian again began to cry.
"You're angry wi' me," she sobbed. "I wish I had never set een on
you."
"Why do you wish that?" Halliwell asked.
"Fine you ken," she answered, and again covered her face with her
hands.
He looked at her undecidedly.
"I am not angry with you," he said, gently. "You are an extraordinary
girl."
Had he really made a conquest of this beautiful creature? Her words
said so, but had he? The captain could not make up his mind. He gnawed
his moustache in doubt.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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