Red Money

by Fergus Hume

  The interview between Lady Agnes and Lambert could scarcely be called alove-scene, since it was dominated by a stern sense of duty. Chaldea,lying at length amongst the crushed and fragrant flowers, herself in herparti-colored attire scarcely distinguishable from the rainbow blossoms,was puzzled by the way in which the two reined in their obviouspassions. To her simple, barbaric nature, the situation appearedimpossible. If he loved her and she loved him, why did they not run awayto enjoy life together? The husband who had paid money for the wife didnot count, nor did the brother, who had sold his sister to hide hiscriminal folly. That Lady Agnes should have traded herself to saveGarvington from a well-deserved punishment, seemed inexcusable to thegypsy. If he had been the man she loved, then indeed might she haveacted rightly. But having thrown over that very man in this sillyfashion, for the sake of what did not appear to be worth the sacrifice,Chaldea felt that Agnes did not deserve Lambert, and she then and theredetermined that the Gentile lady should never possess him.

  Of course, on the face of it, there was no question of possession. Theman being weaker than the woman would have been only too glad to elope,and thus cut the Gordian knot of the unhappy situation. But the woman,having acted from a high sense of duty, which Chaldea could not rise to,evidently was determined to continue to be a martyr. The question was,could she keep up that pose in the face of the undeniable fact that sheloved her cousin? The listening girl thought not. Sooner or later theartificial barrier would be broken through by the held-back flood ofpassion, and then Lady Agnes would run away from the man who had boughther. And quite right, too, thought Chaldea, although she had no notionof permitting such an elopement to take place. That Agnes would hold toher bargain all her life, because Hubert had fulfilled his part, neveroccurred to the girl. She was not civilized enough to understand thisproblem of a highly refined nature.

  Since the situation was so difficult, Lambert was glad to see the backof his cousin. He escorted her to the door, but did not attend herthrough the wood. In fact, they parted rather abruptly, which was wise.All had been said that could be said, and Lambert had given his promiseto share the burden with Agnes by acting the part of a lover who hadnever really been serious. But it did not do to discuss details, asthese were too painful, so the woman hurried away without a backwardglance, and Lambert, holding his heart between his teeth, returned tothe studio. Neither one of the two noticed Chaldea crouching amongst theflowers. Had they been less pre-occupied, they might have done so; as itwas she escaped observation.

  As soon as the coast was clear, Chaldea stole like a snake along theground, through the high herbage of the garden, and beyond the circle ofthe mysterious monoliths. Even across the lawns of the glade did shecrawl, so as not to be seen, although she need not have taken all thistrouble, since Lambert, with a set face and a trembling hand, wasworking furiously at a minor picture he utilized to get rid of suchmoods. But the gypsy did not know this, and so writhed into the woodslike the snake of Eden--and of that same she was a very fairsample--until, hidden by the boles of ancient trees, she could standupright. When she did so, she drew a long breath, and wondered what wasbest to be done.

  The most obvious course was to seek Ishmael and make a lying report ofthe conversation. That his wife should have been with Lambert would bequite enough to awaken the civilized gypsy's jealousy, for after all hiscivilization was but skin deep. Still, if she did this, Chaldea wasclever enough to see that she would precipitate a catastrophe, andeither throw Agnes into Lambert's arms, or make the man run the risk ofgetting Pine's knife tickling his fifth rib. Either result did notappeal to her. She wished to get Lambert to herself, and his safety wasof vital importance to her. After some consideration, she determinedthat she would boldly face the lover, and confess that she had overheardeverything. Then she would have him in her power, since to save thewife from the vengeance of the husband, although there was no reason forsuch vengeance, he would do anything to keep the matter of the visitquiet. Of course the interview had been innocent, and Chaldea knew thatsuch was the case. Nevertheless, by a little dexterous lying, and somevivid word-painting, she could make things extremely unpleasant for thecouple. This being so, Lambert would have to subscribe to her terms. Andthese were, that he should leave Agnes and marry her. That there wassuch a difference in their rank mattered nothing to the girl. Lovelevelled all ranks, in her opinion.

  But while arranging what she should do, if Lambert proved obstinate,Chaldea also arranged to fascinate him, if possible, into loving her.She did not wish to use her power of knowledge until her power offascination failed. And this for two reasons. In the first place, it wasnot her desire to drive the man into a corner lest he should defy herand fight, which would mean--to her limited comprehension--thateverything being known to Pine, the couple would confess all and elope.In the second place, Chaldea was piqued to think that Lambert shouldprove to be so indifferent to her undeniable beauty, as to love thispale shadow of a Gentile lady. She would make certain, she told herself,if he really preferred the lily to the full-blown rose, and on hischoice depended her next step. Gliding back to the camp, she decided toattend to one thing at a time, and the immediate necessity was to charmthe man into submission. For this reason Chaldea sought out the Serviangypsy, who was her slave.

  Her slave Kara certainly was, but not her rom. If he had been herhusband she would not have dared to propose to him what she did propose.He was amiable enough as a slave, because he had no hold over her, butif she married him according to the gypsy law, he would then be hermaster, and should she indulge her fancy for a Gentile, he wouldassuredly use a very nasty-looking knife, which he wore under the greencoat. Even as it was, Kara would not be pleased to fiddle to herdancing, since he already was jealous of Lambert. But Chaldea knew howto manage this part of the business, risky though it was. The hairylittle ape with the musician's soul had no claim on her, unless shechose to give him that of a husband. Then, indeed, things would bedifferent, but the time had not come for marital slavery.

  The schemer found Kara at the hour of sunset sitting at the door of thetent he occupied, drawing sweet tones from his violin. This was thelittle man's way of conversing, for he rarely talked to human beings. Hespoke to the fiddle and the fiddle spoke to him, probably about Chaldea,since the girl was almost incessantly in his thoughts. She occupied themnow, and when he raised his shaggy head at the touch on his hump-back,he murmured with joy at the sight of her flushed beauty. Had he knownthat the flush came from jealousy of a rival, Kara might not have beenso pleased. The two conversed in Romany, since the Servian did not speakEnglish.

  "Brother?" questioned Chaldea, standing in the glory of the rosy sunsetwhich slanted through the trees. "What of Ishmael?"

  "He is with Gentilla in her tent, sister. Do you wish to see him?"

  Chaldea shook her proud head. "What have I to do with the half Romany?Truly, brother, his heart is Gentile, though his skin be of Egypt."

  "Why should that be, sister, when his name signifies that he is of thegentle breed?" asked Kara, laying down his violin.

  "Gentile but not gentle," said Chaldea punning, then checked herselflest she should say too much. She had sworn to keep Pine's secret, andintended to do so, until she could make capital out of it. At presentshe could not, so behaved honorably. "But he's Romany enough to splitwords with the old witch by the hour, so let him stay where he is.Brother, would you make money?" Kara nodded and looked up with diamondeyes, which glittered and gloated on the beauty of her dark face. "Then,brother," continued the girl, "the Gorgio who paints gives me gold todance for him."

  The Servian's face--what could be seen of it for hair--grew sombre, andhe spat excessively. "Curses on the Gentile!" he growled low in histhroat.

  "On him, but not on the money, brother," coaxed the girl, stooping topat his face. "It's fine work, cheating the rye. But jealous you mustnot be, if the gold is to chink in our pockets."

  Kara still frowned. "Were you my romi, sister--"

  "Aye, if I were. Then indeed. Bu
t your romi I am not yet."

  "Some day you will be. It would be a good fortune, sister. I am as uglyas you are lovely, and we two together, you dancing to my playing, wouldmake pockets of red gold. White shows best when placed on black."

  "What a mine of wisdom you are," jeered Chaldea, nodding. "Yes. It isso, and my rom you may be, if you obey."

  "But if you let the Gorgio make love to you--"

  "Hey! Am I not a free Roman, brother? You have not yet caught the bird.It still sings on the bough. If I kiss him I suck gold from his lips. IfI put fond arms around his neck I but gather wealth for us both. Can yousnare a mouse without cheese, brother?"

  Kara looked at her steadily, and then lifted his green coat to showthe gleam of a butcher knife. "Should you go too far," he saidsignificantly; and touched the blade.

  Chaldea bent swiftly, and snatching the weapon from his belt, flung itinto the coarse grass under the trees. "So I fling you away," said she,and stamped with rage. "Truly, brother, speaking Romanly, you are a foolof fools, and take cheating for honesty. I lure the Gorgio at my will,and says you whimpering-like, 'She's my romi,' the which is a lie. Blessyour wisdom for a hairy toad, and good-bye, for I go to my own peoplenear Lundra, and never will he who doubted my honesty see me more."

  She turned away, and Kara limped after her to implore forgiveness. Heassured her that he trusted her fully, and that whatever tricks sheplayed the Gentile would not be taken seriously by himself. "Poison himI would," grumbled the little gnome in his beard. "For his golden talkmakes you smile sweetly upon him. But for the gold--"

  "Yes, for the gold we must play the fox. Well, brother, now that youtalk so, wait until the moon is up, then hide in the woods round thecottage dell with your violin to your chin. I lure the rabbit from itshole, and then you play the dance that delights the Gorgios. But what Ido, with kisses or arm-loving, my brother," she added shaking herfinger, "is but the play of the wind to shake the leaves. Believe mehonest and my rom you shall be--some day!" and she went away laughing,to eat and drink, for the long watching had tired her. As for Kara hecrawled again into the underwood to search for his knife. Apparently hedid not trust Chaldea as much as she wanted him to.

  Thus it came about that when the moon rolled through a starry sky like agolden wheel, Lambert, sighing at his studio window, saw a slim andgraceful figure glide into the clear space of lawn beyond the monoliths.So searching was the thin moonlight that he recognized Chaldea at once,as she wandered here and there restless as a butterfly, and apparentlyas aimless. But, had he known it, she had her eyes on the cottage allthe time, and had he failed to come forth she would have come to inquireif he was at home. But the artist did come forth, thinking to wile awayan hour with the fascinating gypsy girl. Always dressing for dinner,even in solitude, for the habit of years was too strong to layaside--and, moreover, he was fastidious in his dress to preserve hisself-respect--he appeared at the door looking slender and well-set up inhis dark clothes. Although it was August the night was warm, and Lambertdid not trouble to put on cap or overcoat. With his hands in his pocketsand a cigar between his lips he strolled over to the girl, where sheswayed and swung in the fairy light.

  "Hullo, Chaldea," he said leisurely, and leaning against one of themoss-grown monoliths, "what are you doing here?"

  "The rye," exclaimed Chaldea, with a well-feigned start of surprise."Avali the rye. Sarishan, my Gorgious gentleman, you, too, are anightbird. Have you come out mousing like an owl? Ha! ha! and you hearthe nightingale singing, speaking in the Gentile manner," and clappingher hands she lifted up a full rich voice.

  "Dyal o pani repedishis,M'ro pirano hegedishis."

  "What does that mean, Chaldea?"

  "It is an Hungarian song, and means that while the stream flows I hearthe violin of my love. Kara taught me the ditty."

  "And Kara is your love?"

  "No. Oh, no; oh, no," sang Chaldea, whirling round and round in quite amagical manner. "No rom have I, but a mateless bird I wander. Still Ihear the violin of my true love, my new love, who knows my droms, andthat means my habits, rye," she ended, suddenly speaking in a naturalmanner.

  "I don't hear the violin, however," said Lambert lazily, and thinkingwhat a picturesque girl she was in her many-hued rag-tag garments, andwith the golden coins glittering in her black hair.

  "You will, rye, you will," she said confidentially. "Come, my darlinggentleman, cross my hand with silver and I dance. I swear it. No hokkenybaro will you behold when the wind pipes for me."

  "Hokkeny baro."

  "A great swindle, my wise sir. Hai, what a pity you cannot patter thegentle Romany tongue. Kek! Kek! What does it matter, when you speakGentile gibberish like an angel. Sit, rye, and I dance for you."

  "Quite like Carmen and Don Jose in the opera," murmured Lambert, slidingdown to the foot of the rude stone.

  "What of her and of him? Were they Romans?"

  "Carmen was and Jose wasn't. She danced herself into his heart."

  Chaldea's eyes flashed, and she made a hasty sign to attract the happyomen of his saying to herself. "Kushto bak," cried Chaldea, using thegypsy for good luck. "And to me, to me," she clapped her hand. "Hark, mygolden rye, and watch me dance your love into my life."

  The wind was rising and sighed through the wood, shaking myriad leavesfrom the trees. Blending with its faint cry came a long, sweet,sustained note of music. Lambert started, so weird and unexpected wasthe sound. "Kara, isn't it?" he asked, looking inquiringly at Chaldea.

  "He talks to the night--he speaks with the wind. Oh-ah-ah-ah.Ah-oha-oha-oha-ho," sang the gypsy, clapping her hands softly, then,as the music came breathing from the hidden violin in dreamy sensuoustones, she raised her bare arms and began to dance. The place, thedancer, the hour, the mysterious music, and the pale enchantments ofthe moon--it was like fairyland.

  Lambert soon let his cigar go out, so absorbed did he become in watchingthe dance. It was a wonderful performance, sensuous and weirdly unusual.He had never seen a dance exactly like it before. The violin notessounded like actual words, and the dancer answered them with responsivemovements of her limbs, so that without speech the onlooker saw alove-drama enacted before his eyes. Chaldea--so he interpreted thedance--swayed gracefully from the hips, without moving her feet, in thestyle of a Nautch girl. She was waiting for some one, since to right andleft she swung with a delicate hand curved behind her ear. Suddenly shestarted, as if she heard an approaching footstep, and in maidenlyconfusion glided to a distance, where she stood with her hands acrossher bosom, the very picture of a surprised nymph. Mentally, the dancetranslated itself to Lambert somewhat after this fashion:

  "She waits for her lover. That little run forward means that she seeshim coming. She falls at his feet; she kisses them. He raises her--Isuppose that panther spring from the ground means that he raises her.She caresses him with much fondling and many kisses. By Jove, whatpantomime! Now she dances to please him. She stops and trembles; thedance does not satisfy. She tries another. No! No! Not that! It is toodreamy--the lover is in a martial mood. This time she strikes his fancy.Kara is playing a wild Hungarian polonaise. Wonderful! Wonderful!"

  He might well say so, and he struggled to his feet, leaning against thepillar of stone to see the dancer better. From the wood came the fierceand stirring Slav music, and Chaldea's whole expressive body answered toevery note as a needle does to a magnet. She leaped, clicking her heelstogether, advanced, as if on the foe, with a bound--was flung back--soit seemed--and again sprang to the assault. She stiffened to stubbornresistance--she unexpectedly became pliant and yielding and graceful,and voluptuous, while the music took on the dreamy tones of love. AndLambert translated the change after his own idea:

  "The music does not please the dancer--it is too martial. She fears lesther lover should rush off to the wars, and seeks to detain him by thedance of Venus. But he will go. He rises; he speeds away; she breaks offthe dance. Ah! what a cry of despair the violin gave just now. Shefollows, stretching out her empty arms. But it
is useless--he is gone.Bah! She snaps her fingers. What does she care! She will dance to pleaseherself, and to show that her heart is yet whole. What a Bacchanalianstrain. She whirls and springs and swoops and leaps. She comes near tome, whirling like a Dervish; she recedes, and then comes spinning roundagain, like a mad creature. And then--oh, hang it! What do you mean?Chaldea, what are you doing?"

  Lambert had some excuse for suddenly bursting into speech, when he criedout vigorously: "Oh, hang it!" for Chaldea whirled right up to him andhad laid her arms round his neck, and her lips against his cheek. Themusic stopped abruptly, with a kind of angry snarl, as if Kara, furiousat the sight, had put his wrath into the last broken note. Then all wassilent, and the artist found himself imprisoned in the arms of thewoman, which were locked round his neck. With an oath he unlinked herfingers and flung her away from him fiercely.

  "You fool--you utter fool!" cried Lambert, striving to calm down thebeating of his heart, and restrain the racing of his blood, for he wasa man, and the sudden action of the gypsy had nearly swept away hisself-restraint.

  "I love you--I love you," panted Chaldea from the grass, where he hadthrown her. "Oh, my beautiful one, I love you."

  "You are crazy," retorted Lambert, quivering with many emotions to whichhe could scarcely put a name, so shaken was he by the experience. "Whatthe devil do you mean by behaving in this way?" and his voice rose insuch a gust of anger that Kara, hidden in the wood, rejoiced. He couldnot understand what was being said, but the tone of the voice was enoughfor him. He did not know whether Chaldea was cheating the Gentile, orcheating him; but he gathered that in either case, she had beenrepulsed. The girl knew that also, when her ardent eyes swept acrossLambert's white face, and she burst into tears of anger anddisappointment.

  "Oh, rye, I give you all, and you take nothing," she wailed tearfully.

  "I don't want anything. You silly girl, do you think that for one momentI was ever in love with you?"

  "I--I--want you--to--to--love me," sobbed Chaldea, grovelling on thegrass.

  "Then you want an impossibility," and to Lambert's mind's eye thereappeared the vision of a calm and beautiful face, far removed in itspure looks from the flushed beauty of the fiery gypsy. To gain controlof himself, he took out a cigar and lighted it. But his hand trembled."You little fool," he muttered, and sauntered, purposely, slowly towardthe cottage.

  Chaldea gathered herself up with the spring of a tigress, and in amoment was at his elbow with her face black with rage. Her tears hadvanished and with them went her softer mood. "You--you reject me," shesaid in grating tones, and shaking from head to foot as she gripped hisshoulder.

  "Take away your hand," commanded Lambert sharply, and when she recoileda pace he faced her squarely. "You must have been drinking," hedeclared, hoping to insult her into common sense. "What would Kara sayif--"

  "I don't want Kara. I want you," interrupted Chaldea, her breastheaving, and looking sullenly wrathful.

  "Then you can't have me. Why should you think of me in this silly way?We were very good friends, and now you have spoiled everything. I cannever have you to sit for me again."

  Chaldea's lip drooped. "Never again? Never again?"

  "No. It is impossible, since you have chosen to act in this way. Come,you silly girl, be sensible, and--"

  "Silly girl! Oh, yes, silly girl," flashed out Chaldea. "And what isshe?"

  "She?" Lambert stiffened himself. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean the Gentile lady. I was under the window this afternoon. I heardall you were talking about."

  The man stepped back a pace and clenched his hands. "You--listened?" heasked slowly, and with a very white face.

  Chaldea nodded with a triumphant smile.

  "Avali! And why not? You have no right to love another man's romi."

  "I do not love her," began Lambert, and then checked himself, as hereally could not discuss so delicate a matter with this wildcat. "Whydid you listen, may I ask?" he demanded, passing his tongue over his drylips.

  "Because I love you, and love is jealous."

  Lambert restrained himself by a violent effort from shaking her. "Youare talking nonsense," he declared with enforced calmness. "And it isridiculous for you to love a man who does not care in the least foryou."

  "It will come--I can wait," insisted Chaldea sullenly.

  "If you wait until Doomsday it will make no difference. I don't loveyou, and I have never given you any reason to think so."

  "Chee-chee!" bantered the girl. "Is that because I am not a raclan?"

  "A raclan?"

  "A married Gentile lady, that is. You love her?"

  "I--I--see, here, Chaldea, I am not going to talk over such things withyou, as my affairs are not your business."

  "They are the business of the Gorgious female's rom."

  "Rom? Her husband, you mean. What do you know of--"

  "I know that the Gentle Pine is really one of us," interrupted the girlquickly. "Ishmael Hearne is his name."

  "Sir Hubert Pine?"

  "Ishmael Hearne," insisted Chaldea pertly. "He comes to the fire of theGentle Romany when he wearies of your Gorgious flesh-pots."

  "Pine a gypsy," muttered Lambert, and the memory of that dark, lean,Eastern face impressed him with the belief that what the girl said wastrue.

  "Avali. A true son of the road. He is here."

  "Here?" Lambert started violently. "What do you mean?"

  "I say what I mean, rye. He you call Pine is in our camp enjoying theold life. Shall I bring him to you?" she inquired demurely.

  In a flash Lambert saw his danger, and the danger of Agnes, seeing thatthe millionaire was as jealous as Othello. However, it seemed to himthat honesty was the best policy at the moment. "I shall see him myselflater," he declared after a pause. "If you listened, you must know thatthere is no reason why I should not see him. His wife is my cousin, andpaid me a friendly visit--that is all."

  "Yes; that is all," mocked the girl contemptuously. "But if I tellhim--"

  "Tell him what?"

  "That you love his romi!"

  "He knows that," said Lambert quietly. "And knows also that I am anhonorable man. See here, Chaldea, you are dangerous, because this sillylove of yours has warped your common sense. You can make a lot ofmischief if you so choose, I know well."

  "And I _shall_ choose, my golden rye, if you love me not."

  "Then set about it at once," said Lambert boldly. "It is best to behonest, my girl. I have done nothing wrong, and I don't intend to doanything wrong, so you can say what you like. To-night I shall go toLondon, and if Pine, or Hearne, or whatever you call him, wants me, heknows my town address."

  "You defy me?" panted Chaldea, her breast rising and falling quickly.

  "Yes; truth must prevail in the end. I make no bargain with a spy," andhe gave her a contemptuous look, as he strode into the cottage and shutthe door with an emphatic bang.

  "Hai!" muttered the gypsy between her teeth. "Hatch till the dood wellsapre," which means: "Wait until the moon rises!" an ominous saying forLambert.