"Look here," said the blacksmith-constable, slowly, "let me understand this. Your sister has been with the 'Gyptians?"

"Yes. Didn't you find Ruth with them?"

"Wait a minute. Was she with old Zelaya's tribe?"

"Yes," cried Helen. "That is the name of the Gypsy queen."

"And the other gal?" demanded the man. "Where is she?"

"That's what I ask you," said Tom, anxiously. "My sister escaped from them, but they recaptured the other girl."

"Sure o' that?" he demanded.

"Yes, I am!" cried Helen. "I saw them drag her back through the woods to the encampment."

"When was this?"

"Not far from six o'clock this morning."

"By gravey!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the man. "She ain't with 'em now. I been all through them vans, and seen the whole tribe. There ain't a white gal with 'em," said Mr. Peck, with confidence.

CHAPTER XVI

THROUGH THE NIGHT AND THE STORM

Ruth did not really know what to think of Roberto, the Gypsy boy.

His push, as he pa.s.sed her, had been most rude, but his whispered words seemed a promise of friendship. He did not look at her again, as he went around the encampment. Roberto seemed a privileged character, and it was not hard to guess that he was Queen Zelaya's favorite grandchild.

As for the prisoner, she was scarcely spoken to by anybody. She was not abused, but she felt her position keenly. Particularly was she ashamed of her appearance--barefooted, bareheaded, and stained until she seemed as dark as the Gypsy girls themselves. Ruth thought she looked altogether hateful!

"I really would be ashamed to have Tom Cameron see me now," she thought.

Yet she would have been delighted indeed to see Tom! It was in her chum's twin brother that she hoped, after all, for escape.

For Roberto, the Gypsy, ignored her completely. She feared that his whispered words to her, when he first entered the camp, had meant nothing after all. Why should she expect him to be different from his tribesmen?

The Gypsies fed her well and allowed her to wander about the camp as she pleased. There were two sentinels set to watch the northern and southern sh.o.r.es of the lake. n.o.body could approach the island without being observed and warning given to the camp.

Ruth had lost hope of anybody coming to the encampment in search of her, for the present. The constable had doubtless been sent by Tom Cameron, and he would report that there was n.o.body but Gypsies in the camp.

n.o.body but her immediate friends would distinguish Ruth from a Gypsy now.

If Helen had found Tom, the situation could not be changed much for Ruth--and the latter realized that. Mr. Cameron and Uncle Jabez would have to be communicated with, before a general alarm could be sent out and detectives put on the case.

By that time, where would the girl from the Red Mill be?

This question was no easy one to answer. Ruth did not believe the Gypsies would remain on this island for any length of time. Queen Zelaya was doubtless shrewd enough to plan a long jump next time, and so throw off pursuit.

Indeed, all the next day the girl could do little but worry about her own situation, and about Helen's fate. The last she had seen of her chum, she had been drifting out into the middle of this lake. Suppose the punt had sprung a leak, or capsized?

Clouds gathered that day, and the second evening on the island closed with a steady, fine rain falling. The encampment was quiet early. Even the dogs found shelter from the wet, but Ruth had every reason to believe that the Gypsy men took turns in guarding the encampment.

Ruth was made to sleep in Queen Zelaya's van, and as soon as it had become real dark, the old woman made her enter. In her rags of clothing, Ruth was not afraid of a little rain--surely she had on nothing that would be spoiled by the wet; but she had to obey the old hag.

At supper time Roberto brought the bowls of savory stew that usually made up that meal for the Gypsies. There were three bowls on the tray and the boy gave Ruth a sharp side glance and pointed to a certain bowl.

She dared not refuse to take it.

When he approached his grandmother at the other end of the van, he removed his own bowl before setting the tray upon the box beside her.

Ruth hesitated to eat her own portion; she had been afraid of being drugged from the beginning.

Yet, somehow, she could not help feeling confidence in Roberto. The latter ate his supper with gusto, talking all the while with the old woman. But he went away without a word or look at Ruth after the meal.

Soon Zelaya made her go to bed. Ruth was not sleepy, but she appeared to go to sleep almost at once, as she had before. She lay down in all the clothing she wore, for she was apprehensive of something happening on this night. She saw that the old woman was very drowsy herself.

Appearing to sleep, Ruth waited and watched. The storm whined in the trees of the island, but there was no other noise.

Zelaya was at the locked box again, and she soon drew forth her treasure-casket. She fondled the collar of pearls as she had on the first night Ruth had slept in the van.

The girl was watching for that evil face at the window again. For a moment she thought she saw it, but then she recognized that it was Roberto's handsome face against the wet pane.

Suddenly Ruth realized that the old woman had fallen asleep over her box of valuables. The girl was confident that there had been a drugged bowl at supper time, but _she_ had not eaten of it.

There was a little noise at the door--ever so slight. The handle turned, and Roberto's head was thrust in. He nodded at Ruth as though he were sure she was not asleep, and then creeping up the steps, he gazed at his grandmother.

There could be no doubt that she was sound asleep! He slipped in and closed the door. At first he did not say a word to Ruth.

He went to Zelaya's side and shook her lightly. She did not awake. As though she were a child, the strong youth lifted her and placed her in the bed. Then he locked the small box, put the key again around Zelaya's neck, and lowered the treasure box into the chest. The padlock of this he snapped and then turned cheerfully to the watchful Ruth.

"Come!" he whispered. "Missy not afraid of Roberto? Come!"

No. Ruth was _not_ afraid of him. She rose quickly and preceded him, as he directed by a gesture, out of the door of the van. There was neither light nor sound in the whole camp.

Once they were free, Roberto seized the girl's hand and led her through the darkness and the rain. Ruth's tender feet stumbled painfully over the rough ground, but the boy was not impatient.

He seemed to know his way in the dark by instinct. Certainly, Ruth could scarcely see her hand before her face!

However, it was not long before she realized that they had come out upon the sh.o.r.e of the island. There was a vast, empty-looking place before them, which Ruth knew must be the open lake.

Where the sentinels had gone, she could not guess, unless Roberto had managed to drug _them_, too!

However, there was not a word said, save when Roberto led her down, to the water and she felt it lave her feet. Then he muttered, in a low tone:

"Don't fear, little Missy."

As they waded deeper and deeper into the lake, following as she supposed the track by which the wagons had come to the island, Ruth _was_ more than a little frightened. Yet she would not show Roberto it was so.