Gypsy Nan

“ Would he know that in the last analysis her threat would be only an idle one; that, though her future, her safety, her life depended on obtaining the evidence she felt he could supply, her threat would be empty, and that she was powerless—because she loved him. But he did not know she loved him—she was Gypsy Nan. If she kept her secret, if he did not penetrate her disguise as she had penetrated his, if she were Gypsy Nan and Danglar's wife to him, her threat would be valid enough, and—and he would be at her mercy! ”

“ Rhoda Gray took the clothing, and went back to the bedside. Gypsy Nan had made little progress in disrobing. It seemed about all the woman could do to cling to the edge of the cot and sit upright.
“What does all this mean, Nan,” she asked tensely; “all those things up there—that money?”
Gypsy Nan forced a twisted smile.
“It means I know how bad I am, or I wouldn't have let you see what you have,” she answered heavily. “It means that there isn't any other way. Hurry! Get these things off! Get me dressed!” ”

“ Mechanically she picked up the flashlight and a package of the banknotes, lowered the board in the ceiling into place, and returned to Gypsy Nan.
“I'm ready, if there is no other way,” she said soberly, as she watched the other tuck the money away inside her waist. “I said I would see you through, and I will. But I doubt if you are strong enough, even with what help I can give you, to get down the stairs, and even if you can, I am afraid with all my soul of the consequences to you, and—”
Gypsy Nan blew out the candle, and staggered to her feet. ”

“ A tall, elegant gentleman was standing near the hearth.
“Monsieur Alecsandri,” the little lady said, “this is the gypsy girl for whom you are searching. This is my Nan.”
Unheeded the tears rolled down the wrinkled cheeks of Miss Dahlia as the stranger, with evident emotion, stepped forward, and held out both hands to the wondering girl, “And so you are Elenan, my dear sister’s little daughter.”
Nan looked, not only amazed, but distressed. “Oh, sir,” she cried, “you are not a gypsy. My mother, wasn’t she a gypsy after all?” ”

“ She must, as soon as she could, get back to Gypsy Nan's garret. Like that other night, she dared not take the risk that Danglar, by any chance, might return there—and find her gone after what had just happened. The man would be beside himself with fury, suspicious of everything—and suspicion would be fatal in its consequences for her. And so she must go. And she could not become Gypsy Nan again with the Adventurer looking on! ”

“ With a low, startled cry, Rhoda Gray was on her feet. Gypsy Nan was gone. A sweep of the woman's hand, and the spectacles were off, the gray-streaked hair a tangled wig upon the pillow—and Rhoda Gray found herself staring in a numbed sort of way at a dark-haired woman who could not have been more than thirty, but whose face, with its streaks of grime and dirt, looked grotesquely and incongruously old. ”

“ Her thoughts reverted to Gypsy Nan. What had the woman meant by her last few wandering words? They had nothing to do with Skarbolov's, that was certain; but the words came back now insistently. "Seven-three-nine." What did "seven-three-nine" mean? She shook her head helplessly. Well, what did it matter? She dismissed further consideration of it. She repeated to herself Gypsy Nan's directions for finding the spring of the secret drawer. She forced herself to think of anything that would bar the entry of that fear which stood lurking at the threshold of her mind. ”

“ For a moment neither spoke, then Gypsy Nan broke the silence with a bitter laugh. She threw back the bedclothes, and, gripping at the edge of the bed, sat up.
“The White Moll!” The words rattled in her throat. A fleck of blood showed on her lips. “Well, you know now! You're going to help me, aren't you? I—I've got to get out of here—get to a hospital.”
Rhoda Gray laid her hands firmly on the other's shoulders.
“Get back into bed,” she said steadily. “Do you want to make yourself worse? You'll kill yourself!”
Gypsy Nan pushed her away. ”

“ The gypsy girl felt smothered if she slept in the van.
[10] CHAPTER II.
THE GARDEN-ALL-AGLOW.
Before day break, Gypsy Nan awakened the goblin-like boy. Rolled in blankets they had slept in the shelter of the live oak trees and close to the warm coals of the camp fire.
“Come Tirol,” she whispered, glancing at the wagons, to see if anyone was astir, “we must go now, for Nan isn’t going to dance at the inn for the gorigo. And you must come, too, else that wicked Anselo Spico will make you stand on a corner and beg, making money out of your poor little bent body that’s always a-hurting you.” ”

“ Danglar's trap set for herself and the Adventurer last night in old Nicky Viner's room proved that. And the fact that the woman who had originally masqueraded as Gypsy Nan—as she, Rhoda Gray, was masquerading now—was Danglar's wife, proved it a thousandfold more. She could no longer remain passive, arguing with herself that it took all her wits and all her efforts to maintain herself in the rôle of Gypsy Nan, which temporarily was all that stood between her and prison bars. ”

“ But in holding to the role of Gypsy Nan for the purpose of receiving those criminal confidences, she had not thought of this—that upon her would rest the moral responsibility of other crimes of which she would have knowledge, and, least of all, that she should be faced with what lay before her now, to-night, at the first contact with those who had been Gypsy Nan's confederates.
What was she to do? Upon her, and upon her alone, depended a man's life, and, adding to her distraction, she knew the man—the Sparrow, who had already done time ”

“ Nan, in a home-like girls’ school near Boston, The Pine Crest Seminary, had blossomed into as charming a young lady as even Miss Ursula could desire, and that proud woman, who had changed little with the years, often gazed at the beautiful dark girl, silently wondering if it might be possible that Nan was not a real gypsy after all. ”

“ Gypsy Nan pulled fiercely at Rhoda Gray's wrist. “Come nearer-nearer! You know Skarbolov, old Skarbolov, who keeps the antique store—on the street—around the corner from my place?” Rhoda Gray nodded.
“He's rich!” whispered Gypsy Nan. “Think of it! Him—rich! But he gets the best of the Fifth Avenue crowd just because he keeps his joint in that rotten hole. They think they're getting the real thing in antiques! He's a queer old fool. Afraid people would know he had money if he kept it in the bank—afraid of a bank, too. ”

“ I'm wanted by the police. If I'm caught, it's—it's that 'chair.' I couldn't have a doctor brought here, could I? How long would it be before he saw that Gypsy Nan was a fake? I can't let you go and have an ambulance, say, come and get me, can I, even with the disguise hidden away? They'd say this is where Gypsy Nan lives. There's something queer here. Where is Gypsy Nan? I've got to get away from here—away from Gypsy Nan—don't you understand? It's death one way ”

“ The girl’s dark eyes grew wistful and she looked for a moment out toward the sea. Then she said in a very low voice. “I don’t know my name, only just Nan.” It was then she remembered that her race was scorned by the white gorigo, and, trying to rise, she added, “I must go now, lady. I must go back to Manna Lou. I’m only a gypsy. You won’t want me here.”
“Only a gypsy?” the little woman said gently, as she covered the brown hand lovingly with her own frail white one. “Dearie, you are just as much a child of God as I am or Miss Barrington is, or indeed, any-one.” ”

“ I would be very, very sorry if I were to suddenly learn that I am not at all a gypsy. I would feel—well as though I were a stranger to myself or as though my past was a dream from which I had been rudely awakened. I wouldn’t know how to begin to live as somebody quite different.” Then, as a bell rang and Phyllis arose, Nan concluded: “But we need have no fear of such a sudden transforming, for I know I am a gypsy. Manna Lou never told a lie and she said time and again that the only part of my story that she would or could tell me was that I am one of their own band.” ”

“ Anselo Spico had returned.
Long before daybreak the gypsy caravan was once more under way. The jolting of the wagon of Manna Lou roused the girl. She climbed from her berth and looked in the one lower to see if all was well with little Tirol. Two big black eyes gazed out at her and one of the claw-like hands reached toward her. Nan took it lovingly.
“Little Tirol,” she said, “you aren’t feeling well.” The goblin-like boy shook his head as he replied: “A crooked back hurts, Sister Nan. It hurts all the time.” ”

“ She could not afford “buts” now; they must take care of themselves afterwards. She would play Gypsy Nan now without reservation. These two men here, like Shluker, were obviously ignorant that Gypsy Nan was Danglar's wife; so she was—Pinkie Bonn's hand was on her arm. ”

“ Phyllis was so intently watching the approaching wagons that she did not notice the almost frightened expression that had appeared in the dark eyes of the girl she so loved, but after a moment Nan was able to say quite calmly, “Why, yes, Joy, I have seen a gypsy caravan before. In California where it is always summer, they often pass the Barrington home in San Seritos.” ”

“ Nan could not understand the words, for they were strange to her, but she could understand the loving caress, and, being weary, she again closed her eyes, but a few moments later she was aroused by a cold, unloving voice that was saying: “Yes, doctor, I understand that she is a gypsy, and that probably she will steal everything that she can lay her hands on, but I will have things locked up when she is strong enough to be about. I consider that she was sent here by Providence, and that it is therefore my duty to keep the little heathen and try to civilize and Christianize her.” ”

“ Nan’s sobs grew less and she passionately kissed the hand that carressed her. The little lady continued:—“I will legally adopt you, and then, truly, will your name be Nan Barrington. After that I am going to send you to the Pine Crest Seminary, which is conducted by a dear schoolmate of mine, Mrs. Dorsey. I want you to permit me to select your wardrobe, which shall be like that of other girls, and no one there will dream that you are a gypsy, for many there are who have dark hair and eyes and an olive complexion. Will you do all this for me, Nan darling, because I love you?” ”

“ Phyllis felt a desire to go to her friend and put her arms about her and beg to be allowed to help if anything had gone wrong, but she did not for she well knew that Nan would tell her if it were something that she wished to share.
The gypsy girl said suddenly after several moments of deep thought, “do you think that I have an enemy in this school?”
“An enemy? You, Nan? No indeed! Everyone loves you! How could they help it? You are always doing nice things for the girls and I never heard you say an unkind word about anyone, so how could you have an enemy?” Phyllis was amazed at the suggestion. ”

“ Gypsy Nan was snarling truculently now. “What's it matter where I live? Don't you ever have any one come here without a letter from the pastor of her church!” She pulled out the package of banknotes. “You aren't going to get stuck. This'll see you through whatever happens. Give me a—a private room, and”—her voice was weakening rapidly—“and”—there came a bitter, facetious laugh—“the best you've got.” Her voice was weakening rapidly.
They carried her upstairs. She still insisted on clinging to Rhoda Gray's hand. ”

“ Miss Barrington, who had learned to love Nan as dearly as had her sister, Miss Dahlia, looked admiringly at the beautiful girl, who, having removed her gypsy costume, was clad in a clinging simple white voile.
“Anne,” she said, “will you play for us? The piano has not been touched in many a day.” ”

“ The supper was hastily eaten, the fire beaten out, the mules and horses watered and hitched. Just as the moon rose over the sea, the gypsy caravan began moving slowly down the coast highway.
Nan, riding on her mottled pony, sincerely wished that Anselo Spico would not escape, but he always did, as she knew only too well.
Two hours later the caravan stopped on a lonely mountain road and drew to one side. Half an hour later everyone was asleep, but in the middle of the night Nan was awakened by a familiar voice. ”

“ When the recital was over, it was to Muriel that the medal of gold was awarded.
“Oh Nan, I ought not to take it. You have done it all!”
There was a happy light in the eyes of the gypsy girl as she stooped and kissed her little friend. “You played wonderfully dearie!” she said.
Just at that moment a maid appeared in the library door, where the performers had gathered. “Miss Muriel,” she called, “there is a gentleman here to see you.”
“It’s father!” the little girl cried with eyes aglow. “I do believe that he came for the recital.” ”

“ It would take the slow moving caravan at least an hour to reach the village, while Nan, on her pony, could gallop there very quickly. Not far below was a dense grouping of live oak trees. She would slip among them on Binnie and then, out of sight of the caravan, she would gallop across the fields to the town. “Manna Lou,” the girl said softly that she need not awaken the sleeping Tirol, “I’m going for a little ride.”
[22]
“That’s nice, dearie,” the kind gypsy woman replied. “It will do you good. The sunshine is warm and cheery.” ”

“ Nan cried, “for I love it.” Then she added, “Robert Widdemere, you don’t believe that I am truly a gypsy, do you?”
The lad shook his head and his brown eyes were laughing. “Why, of course not Lady Red Bird! Gypsies are interesting enough, in their way, but they are not like you. They are thieves—”
[67]
The girl sprang up from the stump on which she had been seated, and her eyes flashed. “They are not all thieves, Robert Widdemere,” she cried, “and many of them are just as good and kind as gorigo could be. ”