CHAPTER XIII
WHICH TELLS SOMEWHAT OF MY DEPLORABLE SITUATION
And after we had stood thus some while my companion spoke, thoughwithout troubling to turn her head or so much as glance towards me:
"Young man, what now?"
"Why, now," I answered, taking off my hat and bowing, "I have thehonour to bid you good-bye!"
At this she wheeled quickly and stood viewing me over with a bold,unwavering gaze that it seemed nothing might abash; and though hereyes were large and well-shaped, yet I remember thinking themexcessively unfeminine, the eyes rather of an ill-natured, pugnaciousboy; and now, because of the hard coldness of her look, theunmaidenly, calculating intensity of her regard, I grew very consciousof my disfiguring garments and felt myself quite out of countenance.
"Why d'ye blush, young man?"
"Because you don't!"
"And why should I blush?"
"It would be more maidenly--?"
"Maidenly?" she repeated, and broke into such a mockery of laughterthat I felt my cheeks indeed burn with a painful effusion and turningabruptly, I walked away in high dudgeon.
"Come back!" she commanded, but I went only the faster and being veryearnest to rid myself of her, was even meditating ignominious flight,when I heard the leap of her feet in pursuit, felt her grip upon myarm and was checked thus so violently that I was amazed at thestrength of her.
"Don't come your fine airs over me, young man," she panted in hotanger, her full, red lips tight-drawn, her great eyes dark andpassionate. "Don't do it!" she repeated. "Don't ye dare!"
"Most decidedly not!" I answered, retreating before her threateningmien; and thus, not caring to turn my back on this young virago, Ifronted her fierce scrutiny with what resolution I could, whiledevoutly wishing myself anywhere else in the world. And it was nowthat I realised she was taller than myself by fully an inch--indeed,perhaps a little more.
"Why does ye stare so?" she demanded.
I craved her forgiveness and lifted my offending gaze to the leavesabove her head and maintained a dignified silence; whereupon shequestioned me breathlessly,
"Now what are ye thinking?"
"That the ancient person spoke truly."
"You means as I'm a shrew?"
"Pray remember it was not I said so."
"But you means so! Come, does ye or don't ye?"
"Madam," I began, very conscious of the evil glitter of her knife, "ifyou will permit me to--"
"Don't 'madame' me, young man! I don't like it and I won't be madamedby you or any other--so don't dare--"
"Certainly not!" said I, fixing my gaze on the leaves again. "And mayI suggest that we might converse more easily if you would have thekindness to put away your knife?"
"My little _churi_, d'ye mean? Not I, young man, not I! 'T is mybest friend as saves from evil more than once! And how do I know asyou won't come any games?"
"Games?" I repeated, shaking my head in mystification. "The sports ofyouth never interested me--indeed, I never play games--"
"No," cried she, with sudden, shrill laugh, "I don't think you do!"Here (to my startled amazement) she whipped short petticoats above herknee and thrust the knife into her garter. Now though my gaze wasimmediately abased to earth I none the less had a memory of anexceedingly well-turned and shapely limb.
"And so you thinks I'm a shrew, does ye?" she demanded, head aslant,and hands on shapely hips.
"I think you might perhaps be just a little more gentle."
"Tush, young man, gentleness don't serve a maid among the Folk!"
"What folk?"
"The Romans."
"Romans?" said I, puzzled.
"Aye, Romans. The Romany, gipsies, the poor folk."
"Are you a gipsy, then?"
"I guess so! Though old Azor, of the Romany _rawni Camlo_, doever tell I'm no true Roman. So mayhap I'm not. However, when I growsup I takes to my little knife--by reason of the _chals_--aye, anduses it too, otherwise I might ha' been tamed by now instead o' beingfree to choose. Ah, yes, I might ha' been creeping the ways wi' someman's brat on my shoulders, to work while he slept, go hungry tillhe'd ate his fill and slave for him--ah, I hate men!" And she spat incontempt and very coarsely. Yet I could not but notice how perfectlyshaped was this vivid, scornful mouth.
"So you don't like me, young man, and I do not like you, which is apity, seeing you buys me out o' the tribe and--"
"Bought you!" I exclaimed, utterly aghast.
"Indeed and to be sure you did. Which is what many a man has wished todo ere this. However, according to the law of our tribe we aremates--"
"Great heaven!" I exclaimed in such unfeigned consternation that sheknit her black brows at me. "Impossible!" quoth I. "Ridiculous--absolutelypreposterous! There is no bond between us--you are free, quite free--nay,I'll go--now--"
"Are ye a man?" cried she between snapping white teeth. "If so, you'llbe the first as runs away from me. And why? Is it that I'm not goodenough--fine enough--handsome enough--"
"My good girl, pray be reasonable--" I pleaded, which seemed only toenrage her the more until, finding me mute and so helpless against thetorrent of her wrath, she checked upon a word, her red lips curved tosudden smile, and her voice grew singularly and sweetly soft.
"Poor young man, sit down and let us talk," said she, as if we hadn'tuttered a word hitherto. So willy-nilly down I sat facing her amid thefern and very ill at ease. "Poor young man," said she again, "don't gofor to look so downcast over so small a matter. Here's you and here'sme; what's done is done! Treat me fair and you'll find me faithful,quick with my needle, a good hand at cooking and not so unkind as theytell o' me. Your life shall be my life and mine yours. Where you goI'll follow and belike it is we shall get along without overmuchfighting and bloodshed."
"But," said I, my brain whirling, "I had no idea--I--I--never imaginedanything of this sort--the whole situation is--impossible!"
"You bought me, remember!"
"Did I?"
"Of course you did!" said she, looking at me great-eyed and I saw herlips quivering. "You pays over to old Azor fourteen guineas, a florin,one groat and three pennies."
"The act was slightly involuntary, as I remember!" said I.
"Talk plain, young man, talk plain! You buys me, and what's more, oldAzor weds us and makes me your mort according to the law o' the Folk."
"But not according to the laws of the English Church," said I, "and Iam not one of the Folk. So you are quite free: the words of old Azorcannot bind me--"
"But they do bind me, young man, now and hereafter. Besides, you havebought me away from the tribe and I may never go back and you cannever leave me solitary."
Here I groaned and she sighed, but with that quiver of red lips thatmight mean tears or laughter.
"A truly terrible situation!" said I.
"It is, young man, it is! Though it might ha' been worse."
"How so?"
"Well, though I have no liking for you, neither your looks, nor yourways, nor your talk, you are better than Bennigo and Jochabed that arevery brute beasts."
Now at this I leapt to my feet and, turning on indignant heel, strodeoff, but soon she was up with me and together we presently came outinto the high road. And now as she went beside me I saw with addedmisgiving that the sun was already westering.
Peregrine's Progress Page 15