Sharing Her Crime Part 16

"Good-gracious, Miss Hagar, if you haven't nearly frightened this little atomy into fits!" said Gipsy. "I declare, of all the little cowards ever was, she's the greatest! Now, if I thought it wouldn't scare the life out of her, I'd have my fortune told. If everybody else is going to have such pretty things happen to them, I don't see why I shouldn't, too."

"Come here, then, and let me read thy fate," said Miss Hagar. "The spirit is upon me to-night, and it may never come more."

"All right. Archie, stop grinning and 'tend this little scary thing.

Now, go ahead, Miss Hagar."

The seeress looked down solemnly into the dark, piquant little face upturned so gravely to her own; into the wicked brown eyes, twinkling and glittering with such insufferable mischief and mirth; and, bending her tall body down, she again chanted, in her dreary tone:

"Thou wast doomed from thy birth, oh, ill-fated child; Like thy birthnight, thy life shall be stormy and wild; There is blood on thine hand, there is death in thine eye, And the one who best loves thee, _by thee shall he die_!"

"Whew! if that ain't pleasant! I always knew I'd be the death of somebody!" exclaimed Gipsy. "Wonder who it is going to be? Shouldn't be s'prised if 'twas Jupiter. I've been threatening to send him to Jericho ever since I can remember. La! if it comes true, won't Minette, and Archie and I be in a 'state of mind' one of these days! I say, Celeste, come over here, and let's have a little more of the horrible. I begin to like it."

"Yes, go, Celeste, go," said Archie, lifting her off her seat.

But Celeste, with a stifled cry of terror, covered her face with her hands, and shrank back.

"Coward!" exclaimed Minnette, with a scornful flash of her black eyes.

"Little goose!" said Gipsy, rather contemptuously; "what are you afraid of? Go! it won't hurt you."

"Oh, no, no!--no, no!--no, no!" cried the child, crouching farther back in terror. "It's too dreadful. I can't listen to such awful things."

"Let her stay," said Miss Hagar, seating herself moodily. "Time enough for her--poor, trembling dove!--to know the future when its storm-clouds gather darkly over her head. Let her alone. One day you may all think of my words to-night."

"There! there! don't make a fool of yourself any longer, Hagar,"

impatiently broke in the doctor. "Leave the little simpletons in peace, and don't bother their brains with such stuff."

"Stuff!" repeated Miss Hagar, her eyes kindling with indignation. "Take care; lest I tell _you_ a fate more awful still. I speak as I am inspired; and no mortal man shall hinder me."

"Well, croak away," said her brother, angrily, "but never again in my presence. I never knew such an old fool!" he muttered to himself in a lower tone.

He started back almost in terror, as he ceased; for standing by his side, with her eyes fairly blazing upon him with a wild, intense gaze, was the elfish Gipsy. She looked so like some golden sprite--so small and dark, with such an insufferable light in her burning eyes--that he actually shrank in superst.i.tious terror from her.

Without a word, she glided away, and joined Archie in the corner, who was doing his best to cheer and amuse the timid Celeste.

During the rest of the evening, Gipsy was unusually silent and still; and her little face would at times wear a puzzled, thoughtful look, all unused to it.

"What in the world's got into you, Gipsy?" asked Archie, at length, in surprise. "What are you looking so solemn about?"

"Archie," she said, looking up solemnly in his face, "am I _possessed_?"

"Possessed! Why, yes, I should say you were--possessed by the very spirit of mischief!"

"Oh, Archie, it's not that. Don't you know it tells in the Bible about people being possessed with demons? Now, Archie, do you think I am?"

"What a question! No; of course not, you little goose. Why?"

"Because when _he_," pointing to the doctor, "said what he did, I just felt as if something within me was forcing me to catch him by the throat and kill him. And, Archie, I could hardly keep from doing it; and I do believe I'm possessed."

This answer seemed to Master Archie so comical that he went off into another roar of laughter; and in the midst of it, he rolled off his seat upon the floor--which event added to his paroxysm of delight.

The doctor growled out certain anathemas at this ill-timed mirth, and ordered Master Rivers off to bed. Then Miss Hagar folded up her work, and taking Celeste with her, sought her own room, where a little trundle-bed had been prepared for the child. And Minnette--who, much against her will, was to share her room with Gipsy, for whom she had no particular love--got up and lit the night-lamp, and, followed, by the willful fay, betook herself to rest.

The next morning dawned clear, suns.h.i.+ny and bright. Immediately after breakfast, Gipsy mounted Mignonne, and set out to encounter the storm which she knew awaited her at Sunset Hall.

CHAPTER XI.

GIPSY OUTWITS THE SQUIRE.

"Then on his cheek the flush of rage O'ercame the ashen hue of age; Fierce he broke forth; 'And dar'st thou, then, To beard the lion in his den, The Douglas in his hall?'"--MARMION.

Gipsy rode along, singing gayly, and thinking, with an inward chuckle, of the towering rage which "Guardy" must be in. As she entered the yard she encountered Jupiter, who looked upon her with eyes full of fear and warning.

"Hallo, Jupe! I see you haven't 'shuffled off this mortal coil' yet, as Louis says. I suppose you got a blowing up last night, for coming home without me, eh?"

"Miss Roarer, honey, for mussy sake, don't 'front mas'r to-day,"

exclaimed Jupiter, with upraised hands and eyes; "dar's no tellin' what he might do, chile. I 'vises you to go to bed an' say you's sick, or somefin, caze he'd jes' as lief kill you as not, he's so t'arin' mad."

"Nonsense, you old simpleton! Do you think I'd tell such a lie? Let him rage; I'll rage too, and keep him in countenance."

"Miss Roarer, if you does, dar'll be bloodshed, and den I'll be took up for all--I knows dar will," said poor Jupiter, in a whimpering tone.

"Dis comes' o' livin' with ladies what ain't ladies, and old gen'lemen what's got de old boy's temper in dem."

"Why, you old good-for-nothing, do you mean to say I'm not a lady!"

exclaimed Gipsy, indignantly.

"Jes' so, Miss Roarer, I don't care ef yer does whip me--dar! S'pose a lady, a _real_ lady, would go for to shoot a poor n.i.g.g.e.r what ain't a doing no harm to n.o.body, or go ridin' out all hours ob de night as _you_ do. No! stands to reason, dey wouldn't, an' dat's de trufe now, ef I _is_ a good-for-nothin'. Dar!"

"You aggravating old Jupiter, you, I'll _dar_ you if you give me any more of your impudence," said Gipsy, flouris.h.i.+ng her whip over her head.

"Miss Roarer," began Jupiter, adroitly ducking his head to avoid a blow.

"Silence, sir! Don't 'Miss Roarer' me. Keep your advice till it's called for, and take Mignonne off to the stables, an' rub him down well; and if you leave one speck of dust on him, I'll leave you to guess what I'll do to you." And so saying, Gipsy gathered up her riding-habit in her hand, and ran up the broad step, singing at the top of her voice:

"Oh! whistle and I'll come to you, my lad, Oh! whistle and I'll come to you, my lad; Though Guardy and aunty, an' a' should go mad, Just whistle an' I'll come to you, my lad."

"Gipsy, Gipsy, hush, child! Your guardian is dreadfully angry with you, and will punish you very severely, I'm afraid," said Mrs. Gower, suddenly appearing from the dining-room. "This reckless levity will make matters worse if he hears you. Oh, Gipsy, how could you do such an outrageous thing?"

"La, aunty! I haven't done any 'outrageous thing' that I know of."

"Oh, child! you know it was very wrong, _very_ wrong, of you, indeed, to stay at Deep Dale all night against his express commands."

"Now, aunty, I don't see anything very wrong at all about it. I only wanted to have a little fun."

"Fun! Oh! you provoking little goose! he'll punish you very severely, I'm certain."