"There, you see!" said the lady at length, speaking in triumph. "There is the name of Philip Dubarry, as plain as a proctor's clerk could write it. Not Dewberry, mind you, but Dubarry. See for yourself."

"So it is!" exclaimed the girl in amazement. "Now do you know I never examined it so closely as to see the difference in the spelling of the name before? We were always called Dewberry; and Dewberry I thought we were."

"No; you were and are Dubarry, and in all human probability the sole heiress of this great manor."

"Stop a bit; oh, my eye! I mean, oh, my nose!"

"What's the matter?"

"I smell a mice!"

"What do you mean?"

"Satan knows I am a princess in disguise, and that's the very reason why he wants to marry me."

"Please be clear, if you can't be brilliant."

"Why, I'm as clear as mud. Satan has found out that I am the rightful heiress of the Dubarry manor, and he wishes to make me his wife in order to become master of the estate," the girl explained.

Sybil raised her eyes in surprise, then dropped them again upon the license, and repeated:

"So Satan wishes to wed you."

"You bet. And I never could imagine why a gentleman of his cultivated tastes should want me for a wife."

"Did he ever happen to see that marriage license?"

"Oh, yes, he has seen it and studied it. He told me it was an important doc.u.ment, and advised me to take good care of it."

"Then that is probably the way in which he discovered your right to the Dubarry estate."

"To be sure it was; for from the time he first saw that paper, he began to treat me with more respect and attention. And I do believe that was also the reason why he came down to this place."

While the girl spoke, Sybil was thinking hard and fast. Was the gentleman brigand the husband of Rosa Blondelle? Had he deliberately murdered his wife that he might marry this young gipsy heiress of the great Dubarry manor? But the girl would not let the lady reflect in peace for many minutes. She suddenly broke out with--

"I can't credit it. Not even in the face of the facts. What, a poor little beggarly wretch of a half-breed gipsy like me, the sole heiress of an old aristocratic manor? Stuff and nonsense! Even if I have a right to it, I shall never get it."

"Oh, yes, you will," said Sybil, confidently. "I never heard of a clearer case than yours, as you have stated it. You have only to prove three marriages, three births, and one ident.i.ty. And as marriages and births are always registered in your country, there will be no difficulty in that."

"_Our_ marriages and births were always registered for the same reason that this license was kept, that some of us might come into the family fortune sometime and be made a lady or a gentleman of. And it begins to look like I was going to be the lady."

"Well, but don't spoil your fortune by marrying Satan," said Sybil.

"Marry Satan? I'd see him in Pandemonium first!" exclaimed the little student of Milton.

"I'm glad to hear you say so! Keep to that, and get out of this den of thieves as soon as ever you can," added Sybil.

"Now, may Satan fly away with me if ever I desert my friends. They risked their necks to rescue me from want in Dover, and have provided for me like a princess. If _that's_ the way you good people requite kindness, I think I'll stick to my poor scamps. At least, I will never leave them, until I can give them each and all money enough to retire upon honestly."

"But you will have to leave them, before you can do that. You will have to live among law-abiding people, before you can get a lawyer to take up such a case as yours. I think, if ever I am free again, I would like to have you home with me; and I am sure my dear husband would take up your cause, as he has taken up that of many a poor client, without money, and without price."

Here the girl burst into such peals of laughter, that Sybil could but gaze on her in astonishment.

"Oh, you know, that is too good!" exclaimed Iska, as soon as she recovered from her mirthful paroxysm.

"What is too good?" inquired Sybil, slightly displeased.

"Oh, that you should invite me to your house, and recommend me to your husband's good offices! One would think that you had had enough of taking up stray women and flinging them at your husband's head!"

exclaimed the girl, with another paroxysm of laughter.

Sybil turned pale, and remained silent for a few moments; then she said very gravely:

"Your gay rebuke may be a just one. I will think twice before I repeat the folly."

"And now I have lost a friend by my jest. I am always losing friends by jests," said Gentiliska, sadly.

"No, indeed you have not, poor child," exclaimed our magnanimous Sybil.

"I might think once, or twice, but I should never think long without offering you a home in my heart and in my house. You are no saint, poor girl; but that you are an honest woman, with your antecedents and your surroundings, is as much to your credit, I think, as sanct.i.ty is to the most holy."

And the lady arose and kissed the little gipsy.

"That was good," sighed Gentiliska; "that is the first time I have ever been kissed since my poor mother died."

They were interrupted by the apparition of Proserpine, who glided into the inner cavern.

"What do you want?" demanded Gentiliska.

"Nothing. Breakfast has been ready this half-hour. We thought you were asleep, so we waited. But just now I heard you laughing. So I came in to tell you everything would be spoiled, if you didn't made haste and get ready."

"All right; we are ready. Put breakfast on the table directly," said Gentiliska.

The girl disappeared, and the two temporary companions, Sybil and Gentiliska, soon followed.

They found a comfortable breakfast laid out in the kitchen, and, as on the preceding morning, Sybil did justice to the delicacies set before her.

"Where are your companions?" she inquired of Gentiliska, not seeing any sign of the robbers' presence.

"I don't know. Where are the men, Hecate?" inquired the hostess, turning to the crone.

"Bless you, Missis, as soon as they got through with their supper, which they kept up until midnight, they one and all put on their gowns and masks, and started out on business."

"Business! Yes, that means stopping a stage-coach, or breaking into a house!" sneered the girl. "And they have not got back yet?" she inquired.

"Bless you, Missis, no! I sorter, kinder, think as they've gone a good distance this time."

Sybil said nothing; but she felt relieved, and grateful to be rid of those terrible men, even for a few hours.

When breakfast was over, Gentiliska said to Sybil: