LITMIR.BIZ

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policeman turned down the school wynd, and Gavin, who had already heard exaggerated accounts of the strange woman’s escape from the town-house, proceeded along the Tenements. He walked in the black shadows of the houses, though across the way there was the morning light.

      In talking of the gypsy, the little minister had, as it were, put on the black cap; but now, even though he shook his head angrily with every thought of her, the scene in Windyghoul glimmered before his eyes. 71 Sometimes when he meant to frown he only sighed, and then having sighed he shook himself. He was unpleasantly conscious of his right hand, which had flung the divit. Ah, she was shameless, and it would be a bright day for Thrums that saw the last of her. He hoped the policemen would succeed in – . It was the gladsomeness of innocence that he had seen dancing in the moonlight. A mere woman could not be like that. How soft – . And she had derided him; he, the Auld Licht minister of Thrums, had been flouted before his people by a hussy. She was without reverence, she knew no difference between an Auld Licht minister, whose duty it was to speak and hers to listen, and herself. This woman deserved to be – . And the look she cast behind her as she danced and sang! It was sweet, so wistful; the presence of purity had silenced him. Purity! Who had made him fling that divit? He would think no more of her. Let it suffice that he knew what she was. He would put her from his thoughts. Was it a ring on her finger?

      Fifty yards in front of him Gavin saw the road end in a wall of soldiers. They were between him and the manse, and he was still in darkness. No sound reached him, save the echo of his own feet. But was it an echo? He stopped, and turned round sharply. Now he heard nothing, he saw nothing. Yet was not that a human figure standing motionless in the shadow behind?

      He walked on, and again heard the sound. Again he looked behind, but this time without stopping. The figure was following him. He stopped. So did it. He turned back, but it did not move. It was the Egyptian!

      Gavin knew her, despite the lane of darkness, despite the long cloak that now concealed even her feet, despite the hood over her head. She was looking quite respectable, but he knew her.

      He neither advanced to her nor retreated. Could 72 the unhappy girl not see that she was walking into the arms of the soldiers? But doubtless she had been driven from all her hiding-places. For a moment Gavin had it in his heart to warn her. But it was only for a moment. The next a sudden horror shot through him. She was stealing toward him, so softly that he had not seen her start. The woman had designs on him! Gavin turned from her. He walked so quickly that judges would have said he ran.

      The soldiers, I have said, stood in the dim light. Gavin had almost reached them, when a little hand touched his arm.

      “Stop,” cried the sergeant, hearing some one approaching, and then Gavin stepped out of the darkness with the gypsy on his arm.

      “It is you, Mr. Dishart,” said the sergeant, “and your lady?”

      “I – ,” said Gavin.

      His lady pinched his arm.

      “Yes,” she answered, in an elegant English voice that made Gavin stare at her, “but, indeed, I am sorry I ventured into the streets to-night. I thought I might be able to comfort some of these unhappy people, captain, but I could do little, sadly little.”

      “It is no scene for a lady, ma’am, but your husband has – . Did you speak, Mr. Dishart?”

      “Yes, I must inf – ”

      “My dear,” said the Egyptian, “I quite agree with you, so we need not detain the captain.”

      “I’m only a sergeant, ma’am.”

      “Indeed!” said the Egyptian, raising her pretty eyebrows, “and how long are you to remain in Thrums, sergeant?”

      “Only for a few hours, Mrs. Dishart. If this gypsy lassie had not given us so much trouble, we might have been gone by now.”

      “Ah, yes, I hope you will catch her, sergeant.”

      “Sergeant,” said Gavin, firmly, “I must – ”

      “You must, indeed, dear,” said the Egyptian, “for you are sadly tired. Good-night, sergeant.”

      “Your servant, Mrs. Dishart. Your servant, sir.”

      “But – ,” cried Gavin.

      “Come, love,” said the Egyptian, and she walked the distracted minister through the soldiers and up the manse road.

      The soldiers left behind, Gavin flung her arm from him, and, standing still, shook his fist in her face.

      “You – you – woman!” he said.

      This, I think, was the last time he called her a woman.

      But she was clapping her hands merrily.

      “It was beautiful!” she exclaimed.

      “It was iniquitous!” he answered. “And I a minister!”

      “You can’t help that,” said the Egyptian, who pitied all ministers heartily.

      “No,” Gavin said, misunderstanding her, “I could not help it. No blame attaches to me.”

      “I meant that you could not help being a minister. You could have helped saving me, and I thank you so much.”

      “Do not dare to thank me. I forbid you to say that I saved you. I did my best to hand you over to the authorities.”

      “Then why did you not hand me over?”

      Gavin groaned.

      “All you had to say,” continued the merciless Egyptian, “was, ‘This is the person you are in search of.’ I did not have my hand over your mouth. Why did you not say it?”

      “Forbear!” said Gavin, woefully.

      “It must have been,” the gypsy said, “because you really wanted to help me.”

      “Then it was against my better judgment,” said Gavin.

      “I am glad of that,” said the gypsy. “Mr. Dishart, I do believe you like me all the time.”

      “Can a man like a woman against his will?” Gavin blurted out.

      “Of course he can,” said the Egyptian, speaking as one who knew. “That is the very nicest way to be liked.”

      Seeing how agitated Gavin was, remorse filled her, and she said in a wheedling voice —

      “It is all over, and no one will know.”

      Passion sat on the minister’s brow, but he said nothing, for the gypsy’s face had changed with her voice, and the audacious woman was become a child.

      “I am very sorry,” she said, as if he had caught her stealing jam. The hood had fallen back, and she looked pleadingly at him. She had the appearance of one who was entirely in his hands.

      There was a torrent of words in Gavin, but only these trickled forth —

      “I don’t understand you.”

      “You are not angry any more?” pleaded the Egyptian.

      “Angry!” he cried, with the righteous rage of one who when his leg is being sawn off is asked gently if it hurts him.

      “I know you are,” she sighed, and the sigh meant that men are strange.

      “Have you no respect for law and order?” demanded Gavin.

      “Not much,” she answered, honestly.

      He looked down the road to where the red-coats were still visible, and his face became hard. She read his thoughts.

      “No,” she said, becoming a woman again, “It is not yet too late. Why don’t you shout to them?”

      She was holding herself like a queen, but there was no stiffness in her. They might have been a pair of lovers, and she the wronged one. Again she looked 75 timidly at him, and became beautiful in a new way. Her eyes said that he was very cruel, and she was only keeping back her tears till he had gone. More dangerous than her face was her

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