The knight laid down his paper fan, replaced his cup upon the tableat his side, and, saving for the smile that lurked about his mouth,looked at the locksmith with as much steadiness as the locksmith looked at him.
"They have been in prison now, a month. One conversation led tomany more; and the hangman soon found, from a comparison of time,and place, and dates, that he had executed the sentence of the lawupon this woman, himself. She had been tempted by want--as so manypeople are--into the easy crime of passing forged notes. She wasyoung and handsome; and the traders who employ men, women, andchildren in this traffic, looked upon her as one who was welladapted for their business, and who would probably go on withoutsuspicion for a long time. But they were mistaken; for she wasstopped in the commission of her very first offence, and died forit. She was of gipsy blood, Sir John--"
It might have been the effect of a passing cloud which obscured thesun, and cast a shadow on his face; but the knight turned deadlypale. Still he met the locksmith"s eye, as before.
"She was of gipsy blood, Sir John," repeated Gabriel, "and had ahigh, free spirit. This, and her good looks, and her lofty manner,interested some gentlemen who were easily moved by dark eyes; andefforts were made to save her. They might have been successful, ifshe would have given them any clue to her history. But she never would, or did. There was reason to suspect that she would make anattempt upon her life. A watch was set upon her night and day; andfrom that time she never spoke again--"
Sir John stretched out his hand towards his cup. The locksmithgoing on, arrested it half-way.
--"Until she had but a minute to live. Then she broke silence, andsaid, in a low firm voice which no one heard but this executioner,for all other living creatures had retired and left her to herfate, "If I had a dagger within these fingers and he was within myreach, I would strike him dead before me, even now!" The man asked"Who?" She said, "The father of her boy.""
Sir John drew back his outstretched hand, and seeing that thelocksmith paused, signed to him with easy politeness and withoutany new appearance of emotion, to proceed.
"It was the first word she had ever spoken, from which it could beunderstood that she had any relative on earth. "Was the childalive?" he asked. "Yes." He asked her where it was, its name, andwhether she had any wish respecting it. She had but one, she said.
It was that the boy might live and grow, in utter ignorance of his father, so that no arts might teach him to be gentle andforgiving. When he became a man, she trusted to the God of theirtribe to bring the father and the son together, and revenge herthrough her child. He asked her other questions, but she spoke nomore. Indeed, he says, she scarcely said this much, to him, butstood with her face turned upwards to the sky, and never lookedtowards him once."
Sir John took a pinch of snuff; glanced approvingly at an elegantlittle sketch, entitled "Nature," on the wall; and raising his eyesto the locksmith"s face again, said, with an air of courtesy andpatronage, "You were observing, Mr Varden--"
"That she never," returned the locksmith, who was not to bediverted by any artifice from his firm manner, and his steady gaze,"that she never looked towards him once, Sir John; and so she died,and he forgot her. But, some years afterwards, a man wassentenced to die the same death, who was a gipsy too; a sunburnt,swarthy fellow, almost a wild man; and while he lay in prison,under sentence, he, who had seen the hangman more than once whilehe was free, cut an image of him on his stick, by way of bravingdeath, and showing those who attended on him, how little he caredor thought about it. He gave this stick into his hands at Tyburn, and told him then, that the woman I have spoken of had left her ownpeople to join a fine gentleman, and that, being deserted by him,and cast off by her old friends, she had sworn within her own proudbreast, that whatever her misery might be, she would ask no help ofany human being. He told him that she had kept her word to thelast; and that, meeting even him in the streets--he had been fondof her once, it seems--she had slipped from him by a trick, and henever saw her again, until, being in one of the frequent crowds atTyburn, with some of his rough companions, he had been drivenalmost mad by seeing, in the criminal under another name, whosedeath he had come to witness, herself. Standing in the same placein which she had stood, he told the hangman this, and told him,too, her real name, which only her own people and the gentleman forwhose sake she had left them, knew. That name he will tell again,Sir John, to none but you."
