Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1925-12-11
"simply allow me to place my hund


AS Mrs. Cantel hesitated and looked
foolish, | thrust mine across the table
toward him. He pushed 1t away with
a sudden smile, and drew back
abashed and somewhat hurt. while he
turned from me to Mr.. Baroque with
what l fancled was a CLEAN of sin
lister triumph In his laughing glance.
He put one hand firmly over his neigh
boris clasped ones.
"A penny for Mr.. Baroque's
thoughtsf Who buysf"
Eyes, yes, surely we will"-"fve,"
"ten," zone hundred" we chorused,
and the major renewed his offer of a
"hver, begad."
Mr.. Baroque sat as If turned to
stone. Abruptly Sinhala began to
speak:
"a seemingly interminable road
winds through tropical forest. From
its either side gigantic trees throw
their branches together In the SEM
blance of an arch, so that Its dim
whiteness alone makes 1t discernible
even in the glare of midday. Along
this highway a horseman rides lei
surely. his head bent in thought, his
eyes upon the path. Almost at his
horses feet lie few stones roughly
forming the device of a swastika with
struggling arms. BY another observer
the symbol would have been unnoticed,
but to this man, lover of Romany
traditions and frequenter Of gypsy
encampments, 1t is as full of sig
nifcance as was one knights coat
of-arms to a fellow-knight In the daJs
Of chivalry. 1t tells him that a fam
lily Of a certain Romany tribe has
passed that way. Certain Of being
able to overtake then. he touches up
his horse
soon he sees a moving shadow
ahead of him, and makes out a cart,
such as Flemish milkcarriers use,
drawn by a woman and a dog. In an
swer to his hail the strange caravan
halts. The woman, on hearing his
greeting in his native speech, drops
the crossbar of the cart tongue,
against which she has been stralnlng.
and advances a step or two. while her
trace-mate, a huge. gaunt. white dog
sinks painting In his tracks. The occu-
pant of the cart raises his head to
stare at the traveller with eyes burn
ing bright from fever. For a second
the horseman is afraid-afraId of the
silent group. The fancy flashes across
his brain that in all but their eyes
the six great balls of fire glarlng
through the dusk into his-these way
farers are dead. The ragged woman.
who is yet but a slip of a girl with a
small, triangular face framed in COS
samer-like hair, is dead; the man with
bis tangled black curls and skeleton
figure, is dead; the phantom white dog
Is dead.
with an effort the horseman shakes
on the Illusion as the utter restitution
Of their circumstances and the hope
lessness Of the mans fight for life
forces itself upon him. He offers them
his hospitality-they are upon his
plantation now and 1t is but the
length Of the road to his bungalow
And the girl, seeing a friend in Their
sore straits, accepts for her father
who. she says. was cruelty hurt a
month or so ago. Thus, with the tacit
understanding OF good-fellowship be
tween them, they make all haste tC
the house, where everything possible
Is done for the sick mans comfort
But without avail. In less than y
month Zillah. for such is the girls
name, Zlllah and the dog are alone in
the world. Then all the chivalry IL
the mans nature wells up, and he
suddenly aware that the girl he has
hitherto regarded as a mere child, Is
in reality woman, marries her out oil
hand.
For a few years, life on the plan
tation is an idyll. But one day tn,
man tires-the next he is gone"
The speaker paused as brusquel,
as he had plunged into his narrative
I looked at Mr. Baroque, the grewsom,
imagery of the story's horseman fas
tening itself upon me, for the maj
had not stirred since the beginning O
the recital, though his dlstended eyei
now gazed beyond Sinhala into space
The Cingalese folded his arms across
his chest and recommended.
with her child in her arms, tn,
gypsy wife goes in search of its fath
er, the love she has borne him sharp
ened to the rankle Of hate. Her pur
pose drives her east and west an,
north and south relentlessly, till
wearied by bootless wanderngs, sh
returns to the plantation to find tn
valley choked with fiotsam. Poverty
stricken, without strength for furthe
effort, she leaves her son in the car
of the mission fathers. They, goo
men, labor to erase from the boy
mind the understanding. even tn
memory of his mothers legacy, no
realizing that heritage Of hate ono
bequeathed can never be obliterate
from the heart Of a gypsy, for tn
stubble will roughen the field Ion
after the harvest is garnered. And tn
harvest Is to him who will but walt"
Sinhala pushed back his chair an
rose from the table.
"Voici lie sabre de mon pere," h
said, bowling nonchalantly to the con
pany.
Instinctively we turned with one az
cord to Mr.. Baroque.
He was dead in his chair.