The Redemption of David Corson | Page 9

lying in zeir zroats," he
answered with easy irony.
"Good! But I am not here to match wits with you. I want that horse, and
lie or no lie, I will have it. Take me to it, or I swear I will blow out your
brains as sure as they are made of bacon and baby flesh!"
The gypsy vouchsafed no reply, but turned on his heel and led the way
into the forest.
After a walk of a hundred yards or more they came to a booth of
boughs, through the loose sides of which could be seen a black stallion.
"Lead him out," said the doctor imperatively; and the gypsy obeyed.
The magnificent animal came forth snorting, pawing the ground and
tossing his head in the air.
The eye of the quack kindled, and after regarding the noble creature for
a moment in silent admiration he turned to the gypsy and said,
"Baltasar, do not misunderstand me, I am neither an officer of the law
nor in any other way a minister of justice. I have as few scruples as you
as to how I get a horse; but we differ from each other in this, that if you
were in my place you would take the horse without giving an
equivalent. Now I am a man of mercy, and if you will ask a fair price
you shall have it. But mark me! Do not overreach yourself and kill the
goose that is about to lay the golden egg."
"Wat muz be, muz be," the gypsy answered, shrugging his shoulders as
if in the presence of an inexorable fate, and added: "Ze brice iz zwo
hunner and viftee dollars, wiz ze mare drown een."
Putting his pistol back into his pocket with an air of triumph, the doctor
said: "There seems to be persuasive power in cold lead. Stretch forth
your palm and I will cross it for you."

The gypsy did so, and into that tiger-like paw he counted the golden
coin; at the musical clink of each piece the eye of the gypsy brightened,
and when he closed his hand upon them and thrust them into his pocket
his hair-lip curled with a cynical smile.
The stranger took the bridle and saddle from his mare, placed them on
the stallion and mounted.
As they moved forward through the silent forest the gypsy sang softly
to himself:
"The Romany chal to his horse did cry As he placed the bit in his jaw,
Kosko gry, Romany gry, Muk, man, kuster, tute knaw."
He was still humming this weird tune when they emerged into the open
fields, and there the traveler experienced a surprise.
A little rivulet lay across their path, and up from the margin of it where
she had been gathering water cresses there sprang a young girl, who
cast a startled glance at him, then bounded swiftly toward the tent and
vanished through the opening.
Now it happened that this keen admirer of horses was equally
susceptible to the charms of female beauty, and the loveliness of this
young girl made his blood tingle. In her hand she carried a bunch of
cresses still dripping with the water of the brook. A black bodice was
drawn close to a figure which was just unfolding into womanhood. The
color of this garment formed a striking contrast to a scarlet skirt which
fell only a little below her knees. On her feet were low-cut shoes,
fastened with rude silver buckles. A red kerchief had become untied
and let loose a wave of black hair, which fell over her half bare
shoulders. Her face was oval, her complexion olive, her eyes large,
eager and lustrous.
All this the man who admired women even more than he admired
horses, saw in the single instant before the girl dashed toward the tent
and disappeared. So swift an apparition would have bewildered rather
than illumined the mind of an ordinary man. But the quack was not an

ordinary man. He was endowed with a certain rude power of divination
which enabled him to see in a single instant, by swift intuition, more
than the average man discovers by an hour of reasoning. By this natural
clairvoyance he saw at a glance that this face of exquisite delicacy
could no more have been coined in a gypsy camp than a fine cameo
could be cut in an Indian wigwam. He knew that all gypsies were
thieves, and that these were Spanish gypsies. What was more natural
than that he should conclude with inevitable logic that this child had
been stolen from people of good if not of noble blood!
He who had coveted the horse with desire, hungered for the maiden
with passion; and with him, to feel an appetite, was to rush