Evening star., 1924-09-03
CHAPTER ".

When John Penhale carried the
gypsy girl into Bosula he thought
she would be off again in fortnight
or month at most On the contrary
she curled up as snug as a dormouse
apparently prepared to stay forever
AT first she followed him wherever
he went about the farm. but after
week she gave that up and remained
at Bosula absorbed in the prepara-
tion of food.
The number of really satisfying
meals the girl Teresa had had in her
time could be counted on her fingers
and toes, almost. Life had been
maintained by crust here and a
bone there. She was only half gvp-
sy; her mother had been an itinerant
herbalist, her father a Basque bear
leader, and she was born at Blyth
Fair. Her % years had been spent
on the highways, singing and dane
ing from tavern to tavern, harried
by the law on one side and hunger
on the other. She had no love for
the open road; her feet were sore
from trudging it and she knew 1t led
nowhere but to starvation: her moth
er had died in ditch and her father
had been hanged. For years she had
been waiting chance to get out
of the dust, and when John came
along, knocked out the tumbler and
jerked her a form she saw that pos
sible chance
A sober farmer who tossed silver so
freely should be bachelor, she
argued. and a man who could fight
like that must have good deal of
the 1usty animal about him She
knew the type, and of all men they
were the easiest to handle. She fol-
lowed up thea clew hot-foot. and now
here sheJwas in a land of plenty. She
had no intention of leaving in a fort
night, month, or ever. if she could
help it; no desire to exchange three
meat meals daily. smoking hot, for
turnips: or soft bed for the lee of
haystack. She would sit on the
floor after supper. basking at the
roaring hearth. back propped against
Johns knees, and listen to the drip
of the caves, the sough of the tree
tops, the echoed organ crashes of the
sea, snuggle closer to the farmer and
laugh
When he asked her why she did that
she shrugged her shoulders But she
laughed to think of. what she was
escaping. laughed to think that the
tumbler was out in il. But for that
flung form and the pricking of her
thumbs she would have been out in
it, too. crouched under a hedge, may
be, soaked and shivering. Penhale
need have had no fears she would
leave him; on the contrary. she was
afraid he would tire of her. and
Strove by every means to bind him
to her irrevocably. She practiced
all her wiles on John. ran to him
when he came in, fondled and kissed
him, rubbed her head on his shoul
der. swore he didn't care for her. pre-
tended to cry, any excuse to get taken
rr, y -t, k,sa - sv,n
in her power. The quarter strain of
gitano came uppermost then, the
blood of generations of ardent south
ern women, professional charmers all,
raced in her veins and prompted her.
showed her how and when. 1t was
all instructive and quite Irresistible:
the simple northern yeoman was a
clod in her hands.
Martha had found Teresa some drug
get clothes, rummaging in chests that
lay. under the dust of twenty years.
in the neglected west wing-oak
| chests and mahogany with curious
iron clasps and hinges. the spoil of
a score of foundered ships. Teresa
had been close behind the woman
when the selection was made. and she
had glimpsed many things that were
not drugget. When she gave up fol-
lowing John abroad she took to
spending most OF ner time, between
meals, in the west wing. boiling the
doors behind her SO that Martha
could not see what she was doing.
John was lurching home down the
valley one Autumn evening, when, as
he neared Bosula, he heard singing
and the tinkling of melUdious wires.
There was a small grove of ashes
close ahead, encircling an open patch
of ground supposed to be a fairy
ring, in May a purple pool of blue
bells, but then carpeted with russet
and yellow leaves. He stepped nearer.
peered round an oak bole and saw
sight which made him stagger and
swear himself bewitched There was
a marvellous lady dancing in the cir
clet, and as she danced she sang,
twanging an accompaniment on
little guitar.
''Then, Lovely Boy, bring hither
The Chapiet. e'er it Vither.
Stprpd in the various jmces
The Cluster'd Vine produces
The Cluster'd Vine produces
She was dressed in a straight laced