"We must get the dollars first, Tera. And the old man won't part." "I can't get the money from him, Jack. You let me talk to your uncle." "As you please. But he won't part." "Oh yes. I will make him." "You're a clever lass if you do. But I don't see how you intend to go about it." "I will make him," repeated Tera; "that is enough. And now let us go into the house. Tolai is cold, for the sun goes down." "Mayne is inside," said Jack, hanging back, for he was enjoying the hour too much to shorten it. "I know," answered Tera, and walked towards the farm. "I want to see Mr. Mayne, and Rachel too." She spoke rather mysteriously, and Finland could not catch the drift of her meaning. However, she said nothing, and the three of them entered the house together. Tolai bestowed himself in a corner, where he sat cross-legged on the floor, after the fashion of his tribe, keeping his faithful eyes ever fastened on Tera. Mayne and Rachel were seated near the window, chatting, and the conversation had not been uninteresting, to judge from Rachel's high colour and bright eyes. Finland guessed that Herbert Mayne had proposed and been accepted. He nudged Tera with a chuckle, but the girl did not respond to his merriment. Indeed, she looked so severely at Herbert when she greeted him that the young man was quite disconcerted. He did not look well, for his face was colourless and his manner uneasy. Yet if Rachel had accepted him--and there was no reason to believe that she had done otherwise--he should surely have been glowing with happiness. "I am glad to see you again. Miss Bithiah," said he; "we all mourned you as dead." "It was a strange mistake, Mr. Mayne." "Oh, I shouldn't say that. The poor girl who was murdered wore your clothes, and as her body was not found for a month, the face was not recognizable. No one dreamed that the corpse was that of a gipsy girl." "Did not you, Mr. Mayne?" "I! No," replied Herbert, with frank surprise. "Why should I?" "You knew this girl at one time," said Tera, looking keenly at him. The young man flushed and laughed nervously. "I knew her as one knows those sort of people," he said. "Last year her tribe camped on the common near my farm, and Zara--that was her name, was it not?" "Yes," rejoined Tera, with some irony, "Zara Lovell was her name." "Well, Zara came round to my house a good deal, selling things and telling fortunes. I saw her very often; so did Finland, here." "Oh, I saw her!" struck in Jack. "A pretty girl she was, with a devil of a temper." "Jack," cried Rachel, in a shocked tone, "how can you!" "I beg your pardon, cousin. But she had a temper. I shouldn't have liked to be hitched up 'longside her in double harness." "You mean, I suppose, you would not have liked to marry her. Jack! Jack! what slang you use!" "I do. Cousin Rachel. I must mend my ways." "Zara was married," said Tera, shortly; "she told me so. I wish now I had asked her about her husband." "Why?" asked Mayne, suddenly.