Chapter Three.

Daylight was streaming brightly through the opening of the tent, when Ivan was awakened by the cheerful voice of his host in conversation with his friend, who had already risen. To their inquiries, he declared himself well nigh, if not entirely recovered, since he was able to rise and dress without feeling any inconvenience from his wound; nor did he consider it necessary to call in again the assistance of Hagar, so efficacious had been her remedies. He was soon, therefore, on his feet, and accompanied Thaddeus and their host into the woods surrounding the encampment; the latter carrying his gun, his constant companion he informed them, in case any game should cross the path.

“So, my worthy host,” said Thaddeus, “your camp has escaped an attack from our enemies.”

“I little feared them,” answered the Gipsy, “as I considered that the Count Erintoff, and his myrmidons lacked the courage to attack us, however powerful his inclination to possess himself of my daughter, for they knew that we should be prepared for them. Let them do their worst; we, the outcasts of society, and despised of men, fear them not. Thus it is, Sirs, in this unhappy country, where the haughty nobles trample on, and oppress the soulless, and therefore helpless people; but let them not suppose that we are of the same mould as those over whom they tyrannise! No, if we cannot oppose them by open force, we can summon to our aid our wit and stratagem.

“They have to learn also that a day of dreadful retribution is at hand; that it will come, when least they expect it. The people will soon be aware of their own strength, however ignorant they may now be of it, and will then no longer submit to bear the chains of servitude, to which they now patiently offer their necks. But your pardon, noble Sirs, you yourselves are of the privileged order, and it may not please you to hear your equals thus spoken of with disrespect; though I deem you both very different in nature from those I have described, and consequently know that I can trust in you, or I would not thus unburden my tongue.”

Ivan was surprised to hear a man, whom he imagined to be a wild, unlettered Gipsy, give utterance to ideas so similar to those which had been passing through his own mind; but still unwilling to express his own sentiments to a stranger, he merely assured him that what he had said, gave no offence, either to his friend or to himself; and he strengthened the assurance by warmly wringing the Gipsy’s hard hand as he spoke.

Thaddeus added, as he sauntered onwards, picking the wild flowers, that he considered it a grievous pity, that there were not a few more honest men like him in the world; as then there would be but little to complain of.

“Sir,” answered the Gipsy, “thousands of bosoms beat with impulses similar to my own, and wait but for the time and opportunity to free themselves from bondage. It will be a dreadful crisis, for what power can place bounds to an infuriated and desperate populace, when once they have received the frenzied impulse. Let those, who have been the first cause of the insurrection, attempt to quell it; it would be as vain to hope to check the mighty torrent rushing from the before pent up glacier, when it has burst its icy bonds. But enough of this, Sirs. I warn you that even now, a storm is gathering which will ere long burst over this country; and may you be prepared to meet the danger when it shall come. More I may not, dare not say, and thus much gratitude, and the certainty that I may fully trust you, have impelled me to speak, that you may benefit by the warning.”

As they retraced their steps in silence towards the camp, Ivan’s thoughts reverted to the expressions which the Gipsy had let fall.

“And can there,” he mused, “be a chance of the regeneration of this country; when slavery shall no longer exist; and all men shall have equal lights, and equal justice! Oh, how ardently do I wish that I could be instrumental in bringing about so happy a consummation!”

On their arrival, they found a repast laid out in front of the tent, consisting of wheat cakes, and bowls of milk. In the places assigned to the two visitors, were laid bunches of wild flowers; that of Ivan being distinguished by a wild rose, with the pure morning dew yet glistening on its delicate tinted leaves.

“These flowers,” said the Gipsy, “are my daughter’s gift to her guests, though she herself cannot appear before them.”

They both expressed their thanks for the delicately marked attention, and on finishing their simple, but plentiful meal, they mentioned their wish to resume their journey to Tver.

The Gipsy chief endeavoured to prevail on them, in his rough, but open and manly way, to tarry another day at his camp; but they excused themselves on the plea of their servant being in waiting for them, and Ivan declared himself fully capable of undergoing the fatigues of the journey.

“If we may not then keep you longer with us,” replied their hospitable friend, “we will, at least, accompany you on your way as far as the Volga; on the banks of which rapid stream, we are about to form our next encampment, for after the occurrence of yesterday, I have deemed it prudent to move at once.”

The young men gladly accepted of his escort thus far on the road, and he accordingly gave orders to strike the tents without delay. The order was obeyed most expeditiously; men, women, and children moving about with the greatest alacrity in its execution. Some dismantled the tents, and rolled up their covers; others stowed their goods away in chests, each undertaking his task according to his strength. The different rude vehicles used to transport the baggage were thus quickly laden, and in the course of a few minutes, on the spot where lately the skin-covered village stood in tranquil repose, was to be seen a moving mass of noisy human beings; the black marks of their fires on the grass being the sole vestiges of their transitory abode. Two wild-looking boys, whose elf locks hung down on their shoulders in tangled masses, and whose eyes sparkled with intelligence, led forward the strangers’ horses from a sheltered spot, where they had been picqueted and well taken care of, the chief of the tribe insisting himself on holding their stirrups, while his guests mounted, as he repelled the wild-looking creatures, who gathered round to perform the office.

Bestriding a strong built cob, which seemed fully able to perform a long day’s journey, he gave the signal, and the whole caravan was set in motion, proceeding at as rapid a pace, as the horses could drag forward the well piled baggage-carts.

The horsemen led the van, while Azila, the chief’s wife, and some of the more aged and feeble of the women, followed in a covered conveyance, of rather better construction than those which conveyed the baggage; the rest of the tribe proceeded on foot, assisting in guiding the carts and baggage horses.

The men were in general tall, strong limbed, and dark looking, their eyes sparkling with animation and intelligence while the wildness prevailing in their dress and manner, with the look of careless confidence in their countenances, shewed they were but little oppressed with care. The women were dressed in apparel of the most gaudy and fantastic colours, their free and independent gait and air, being very different from that of the inhabitants of crowded cities; their dark complexions set off by their flashing eyes, were handsome and expressive; and their light elastic laugh resounded through the woods, as jest succeeded jest amongst the party. Some beguiled the way by singing wild and plaintive melodies, with rich and harmonious voices, while others accompanied the singers on various instruments, which they touched with considerable taste and execution.

The Gipsies have indeed full scope for the exercise of their musical talents in the east of Europe, where they are invariably the chief musicians at all feasts and festivals; whenever a fair or merry-meeting takes place there, a number of them are to be found, and are always well treated by the people.

As Ivan and Thaddeus rode past the several groups, the latter testified the utmost respect for their leader’s guests.

The party travelled on for several hours, halting only for a short time to rest, till the fast-flowing stream of the majestic Volga first met their view, rushing onward in its unimpeded course towards the east, until it empties its mighty volume of waters into the far distant Caspian. Here the order was given to encamp, and a fitting spot being selected at a short distance from the river, the whole party were soon actively engaged in unloading the waggons, and in erecting their frail tenements.

“My worthy friend,” said Ivan, addressing their host, “time urges us to pursue our journey, and with many thanks for your hospitality, we must bid you farewell.”

“Well, Sirs,” he replied, “since it is your wish to depart from us, I must needs yield, though I would fain have persuaded you to remain longer among us, to have seen more of the independent wild life we lead; yet, ere you go, there is one here, who would again assure you of her gratitude for your timely assistance in her rescue; and, for my part, although it may seem presumptuous in me to make the offer, yet should you ever be in difficulty or danger, let me know of it, and I may be perhaps able to afford you more aid, than other friends in a higher station may be willing to effect.”

Her father summoned Azila, when the maiden advanced with timid and bashful steps, followed at a short distance by the aged Hagar, who tottered in her walk as she came forward.

Already had the strangers paid their adieus to the Gipsy’s wife, when turning round they perceived Azila standing near them, with her arms crossed on her bosom, and her eyes cast on the ground.

“Adieu, noble Sirs,” she exclaimed in faltering tones, while tears glistened in her eyes, which shone more brightly than before, undimmed by those eloquent vouchers of her feelings, “the remembrance of your gallant bearing will ever dwell in the mind of the humble Gipsy girl, and though she may never be able to shew any other mark of her gratitude, receive all she has to give—her deep and sincere thanks.”

She bowed her head to conceal her embarrassment and agitation, and the old Sibyl then advancing, thus addressed the strangers: “May the mighty spirit who watches over the people of the Zingani protect you from all dangers, for well do I foresee that you will require his all potent aid. The strong wind bloweth on a sudden, and none can tell whence it ariseth; so will dangers come thickly around you, nor can you foresee from what quarters they will spring, but like the bold mariner who steers his storm-driven bark amid rocks and quicksands to a safe port, be prepared to meet and escape them, and you have nought to fear. And thou, noble youth with the dark eye,” she said, turning towards Ivan, “the cold suns of Russia shone not upon thy birth. Thou earnest from a far distant land, and thither thou must return, where a high and glorious destiny awaits thee; the way will be stormy and dangerous, but hesitate not to follow it; for last night did I read thy fate in the starry firmament above, and it leads to what thou most desirest. And thou, gallant Sir,” she said, addressing Thaddeus, “with the joyous eye, and light laugh, the stars smiled when I read thy destiny, and it will be happy. Fare ye well! ye may never see the aged Hagar more, but remember her words. Farewell!”

While the Sibyl was uttering this prophetical rhapsody, with all the fervour of action and tone, which her supposed inspiration gave her, the tribe stood round in attentive and respectful silence; and even the young men were so struck by her impressive manner, that they could not resist paying more attention to her words than, perhaps, their judgment would have allowed them to bestow at other times.

“Thanks for your predictions, good mother, and may they prove true,” exclaimed Thaddeus, who was always ready to give a light turn to anything which appeared more serious than suited his humour; “and now, our worthy host, we must in truth delay no longer, and bid our last adieu.”

“Not yet, by your leave, Sirs,” answered the Gipsy, “I will, at least, shew you the road which will lead you more directly, and in less time across the forest; which, without my aid, you would scarcely find.”

“The longer we keep your company, the better shall we be pleased,” replied Thaddeus; “and therefore we again most willingly accept of your offer.”

Ivan had remained absorbed in thought, at the conclusion of the Sibyl’s predictions; but suddenly rousing himself, he joined the Gipsy and his friend; and as the young travellers rode off, they received the parting salutations of the whole tribe, and paid their more marked adieus to Azila.

Ere they lost sight of the encampment, Ivan descried the maiden’s light form, watching their departing steps, and, for many a day after, did her graceful figure, and lovely countenance dwell in his recollection.