The Washington times., 1918-08-14
Continued From Yesterday

ner NlSit 70 Amerlca- W as lhlS lhe
first time she had been in the
country? She nodded. She told
him, as her uncle had already done,
that she had not come to exercise
her professionalism visit was in
connection with a different matter
altogether. "I cannot speak OF
that" she said. at is my uncle's
secret, and mine, and Rudolph's-
yours, too, perhaps. II you are in
deed of the blood"
Basil had no wish to lay further
claim upon his supposed consan-
guinity. who is Rudolph" he
asked idly, for the sake of saying
something.
Rudolph was a gypsy of her own
race. He had come with them.
They had come, so il appeared, at
the Invitation of Paul-at the men
ton Of this name Basil pricked up
his ears.
81 like not PAUL. she said. She
spoke of her ,arfairs. with all the
lcandor Of youth. II was as If she
fwere possessed Of a double nature.
There was nothing about her now
to suggest the weird, indefnable
fascination of her recovery from
her stupor.
al like not Paul" she repeated.
~He"- she paused suddenly. L
cannot say"
Basil sought to make her speak
further, but she maintained an OBJ
stinate silence on the subject. Paul.
Harold Borradale's servant and a
gypsy: Paul, who was evidently a
link that connected the strange
doings at Helm with these wild
folk-so much he knew already.
Had not Lillian seen a gypsy on the
terrace at the Towers, a gypsy
who was not Paul? What had the
gypsies to do with Mr.. Borradale-
how came it that Harold had made
Paul his servant?
These questions were more easily
asked than answered cara would
give no further Information; Basil
could not risk raising suspicious
in her mind. One piece OF intelli-
gence, however, he obtained, intel
ligence which fitted in with the
knowledge he had of the doings at
Helm.
You do not like Paul." he said.
banteringly. 81 suppose you like
Rudolph better?"
"Ah, Rudolph-yes," she cried.
For many years he love me, Ru-
dolph." She spoke as IL her years
were. indeed, many. And he is
clever. is Rudolph not rough. like
Paul. He paint-he teach me to
paint"
"Ah-he paints,"
"Yes,in the towns. He travel about
and make money. He go to the cafes
and paint portraits. He paint for
exhibitions. too-they say he have
talent"
So Rudolph. the gypsy. was an
artist. Probably it was Rudolph,
the gypsy, who had been employed
to alter the pictures of Helm; he,
too. whom Lillian had seen upon
the terrace. II Basil could but play
his cards properly he might learn
much for his introduction to the
gypsy camp.
1t was strange that Zara's uncle
WIS SO long away. In his contem-
plation OF the girl and his interest
in her conversation Basil had rath-
er forgotten the events that were
brought back to his memory in a
sudden and startling manner
A sharp cry resounded from no
great distance. lara sprang to her
feet. 1T is my uncle's voice." she
cried She flung open the little win
dow and threw out wild words to
the night They fisht-they fight
Paul, you thief, you cur" Faint
mutterings. strange oaths, heavy,
labored breathing-it was from
close to the van that the sounds
mounted to them.
and Basil saw that she had a knife
concealed in her clothing. Another
change had come over her face.
She was a wild thing. creature OF
the forest an animal possessed of
the most primitive OF instincts-the
instinct to kill its foe.
Il hate him hate him." she
gasped. Though the words were not
derstand them.
She made for the door, springing
ratHer than running-a curious
movement that heightened her re-
semblance to a wild animal. She
clutched her unsheathed knife TO
h@= breast She was wholly with
cut fear.
Though IL was still early in the
evening. the night was dark, and a
heavy mist had arisen, enveloping
the camp in its fold. The primitive
fire-no longer reQuired-had burnt
low. and what light there was at
the door oftthe van came from the
powerful lamp OF Fleetwood's bicy-
Gle. This cast a white glow across
the small open space that inter-
Nened between van and wood, and
in the illumination of IT'S rays fu,o
men could be seen struggling upon
the ground, rolling over and over:
muttering low, striking at each
other when the opportunity pre-
sented itself. Now and again the
CLINT OF steel could be seen as an
arm was raised for a blow.
Such was the picture that pre-
sented itself to Basils eyes as, fol-
lowing Zara. he scrambled down the
steps of the van. II was evident
that the alarm had not been raised
In the camp: after the first sharp
cry the fighting men had been very
silent: their mutterings could have
reached no other ears but BasiI's
and Zara's. The cold and the mist
had driven the gypsies into the
shelter OF their own wagons, from
Which came the sound OF voices.
laughter. and the wailing OF chill
dren, all unconscious OF the life
Rnd death struggle that was tax
ing place so near to them.
What will you do? You must
let me separate them Basil
h'eized Zara's arm. but she flung
herself free almost as II she had
not felt the remonstrance- Before