"Now that everything is comfy," observed Grace, "I, for one, think it is great fun. Our little house in the woods! For one night, it is almost as good as the cabin in the Berkshires."

"Yes, for one night; but give me a roof when the rain comes," cried Ruth.

"You are safe for to-night, at any rate, Ruth," said Barbara, looking up at the sky through the branches of the tall forest trees. "There's not a cloud, even as small as a man's hand. And how bright the stars are!

There comes the harvest moon. It looks like a great, red lantern."

"Money, money!" cried Mollie excitedly.

"What is the matter with you, child?" said Miss Sallie, startled into finding her voice at last.

"Didn't you see it?" said Mollie. "It was a splendid shooting star. It had a tail that reached halfway across the heavens. Don't you know that, if you remember to say 'money, money, money,' before it fades out of sight or goes wherever it disappears to--"

"'Oh, mother, where do the shooting stars go'?" laughed Ruth, breaking in upon Mollie-"you will inherit a large sum of money," continued Mollie.

"We shall be sleeping at the feet of an heiress, then," said Bab. "Or did the star fade out before you had finished, Molliekins?"

"I don't know," replied Mollie. "I was so excited that I forgot to look."

By this time tea was ready and a rug had been spread in front of the tent for the guests to sit upon. Miss Sallie with her air cushion between her shoulders and the trunk of a tree that spread its branches over the tent, was beginning to feel that life, after all, held a number of pleasant things, including a certain favorite blend of tea that was as delicious, fragrant and expensive as heart could wish.

The night breeze touched their faces gently, and the stillness and sweet scents of the woods soothed them into forgetfulness of their troubles.

While they sipped their tea and talked, in subdued voices, of the mystery of the forest at night, the Gypsy girl crept up and gazed curiously, almost wistfully, at them.

"Do have some chocolate," called Ruth, as she held the box toward the girl. "Come over and sit down, won't you? What is your name?"

"My name is Zerlina," replied the Gypsy, as she nibbled gingerly at a piece of chocolate.

"And is Granny Ann your mother?" asked Ruth.

"She is my grandmother," replied Zerlina. "My mother died many years ago."

Ruth looked at her sympathetically. They had, she thought, at least one thing in common in their widely separated circ.u.mstances.

"Would you like," she asked gently, "to live in a city and go to school?"

For a moment Zerlina's face flushed with a deep glow of color. Her eyes traveled from one to another of the automobile party. She noted their refined, well-bred faces, their dainty dresses, the luxurious pile of long silk coats and chiffon veils. Nothing escaped the child, not even the elegant little tea basket with its fittings of silver and French china.

"There are times when I hate this life," Zerlina said finally, turning to Ruth, who was watching her curiously. "There are times in the winter when we have been too poor to go far enough South to keep warm. It is then that I would like the city and the warm houses. But my grandmother is very strict."

She paused and bit her lip. She had spoken so fiercely that the girls had felt somewhat embarra.s.sed at their own prosperity. "But," continued Zerlina in a quieter tone, "when summer comes, I would rather be here in the woods. Gypsies do not live in houses," she went on a little proudly.

"My grandmother has told me that they have been wanderers for thousands of years. They do not go to school. They teach each other. My grandmother has taught me to read and write. She was taught by her mother, who was adopted and educated by a n.o.ble lady. But she came back to the Gypsies afterwards."

"And your mother?" asked Mollie.

"My mother is dead," returned Zerlina, and closed her lips tightly, as if to block all further inquiries in that direction.

"It is very interesting!" exclaimed Ruth. "And your education is then really inherited from your great-grandmother."

"Yes," a.s.sented the girl, "but I have inherited more than that-from my mother."

The girls waited for Zerlina to finish. They hesitated to question her about her mother since it was evidently a forbidden subject with her.

"I have inherited her voice," she added confidentially. "It may be that I shall be a singer some day."

"Oh, really?" cried all the girls in unison.

"You will sing for us now, won't you?" added Ruth.

"If you wish," said Zerlina. "I will get my guitar." And she disappeared in the darkness.

"Isn't she pretty?" commented Mollie.

"How soft her voice is, and what good English she speaks," marveled Ruth. "But then, we must remember her great-grandmother was educated by a n.o.ble lady and transmitted her learning and manners straight to her."

"Poor thing!" exclaimed Bab. "I am really very sorry for her. The instincts of her great-grandmother and her grandmother keep up a sort of warring inside of her. In the winter time she's her great-grandmother, and in the summer time she's a real Gypsy. There are times when she sighs for a steam-heated house, and times when she sighs for the open."

"But it's mostly the open she gets," said Grace. "What do you suppose she meant when she said that Granny Ann was very strict?"

"I can't imagine," replied Ruth, "unless Granny Ann refuses to allow her to buy herself a warm house. Seriously, though, I should like to do something for a girl like Zerlina. She strikes me as being far from ordinary. But here she comes. We will hear her sing first. This beggar girl may be a future prima-donna."

Zerlina emerged from the darkness, with an old guitar, and, sitting crosslegged on the ground, began to thrum an accompaniment. Then she sang in a deep, rich voice a song of the Gypsies. The song was in Spanish and the beat of the music was so weird and insistent that the listeners could hardly restrain themselves from joining hands and dancing in time to the rhythm.

They were thrilled by the romance of the Gypsy camp and the charm of the girl's singing. When she had finished they begged for more, and Zerlina was about to comply when a voice called her from the encampment. It was her grandmother's, and what she said was not understood, since it was in the Romany language. But the girl leaped hurriedly to her feet.

"I will not sing again to-night," she said. "The ladies are tired.

Another time. Good-night," And she slipped away in the darkness.

"Granny Ann is strict," said Ruth. "You wouldn't think she would object to Zerlina's a.s.sociating with a few girls her own age. I wonder why she doesn't like to have her sing? Perhaps she is afraid she will run away, some day, and go on the stage."

"I wish I had her beautiful voice," sighed Grace. "Think what it could be made with proper training."

"If she does not coa.r.s.en in feature, as so many of these dark women do,"

observed Miss Sallie, "she will be very handsome some day."

"And now for our lowly beds," cried Ruth. "Barbara, you and I will sleep at the door of the tent like faithful slaves guarding their n.o.ble ladies. n.o.body need be afraid. Granny Ann has promised to have a Gypsy man keep watch, and I have pinned my faith to Granny Ann. I believe she's a woman of her word."

"Mollie, you seem to be on such friendly terms with these people. What is your opinion?" asked Miss Sallie.

"I believe we shall be as safe as if we were in our own homes," replied Mollie. "Granny Ann will keep faith with us. You will see. Perhaps she wouldn't if she didn't feel under obligations for a few sandwiches and lemonades, and things that I have made for her occasionally in the summer on hot days. But I know she's a kind of queen in the tribe, and used to being obeyed."

Fifteen minutes had hardly slipped past when Miss Sallie and "The Automobile Girls" were sound asleep, Bab with her pistol at her side.

CHAPTER VIII-THE HAUNTED POOL